#finished it while it’s still autumn thank god

[blueastrum]

Couple commission for @data-dork 💜

[corroded-hellfire]

Hail to the Princess - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Summary: Halloween is here and all of the Munson children are excited. Putting a little makeup on your husband gets you excited as well.

Note: Happy Halloween!

Warnings: pregnant!reader

Words: 3.8k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Autumn was always the best season in Indiana. There’s a chill in the air, but there’s no bitter cold. The leaves turn beautiful colors and float down gently to meet the earth. All the spiced scents and soft clothes make it such a cozy time. Not to mention…Halloween.

The spooky holiday was always a favorite in the Munson household. You can still remember the very first Halloween after you met Eddie and the boys. You dressed up as a fairy, Ryan as Scooby Doo, Luke as a pirate, and Eddie decided to be boring and not don a costume. He also wasn’t planning on wearing one tonight when he takes Luke and Eliza out. 

Usually, both of you liked to go out with the kids—it was always fun to see them so excited and to check out the costumes of other trick-or-treaters darting from house to house. But this year, the end of your first trimester has you exhausted. This pregnancy seems to be making you even more tired than the first one did. Some days you barely have the energy to keep up with your rambunctious four-year-old when she gets home from school. 

This year, Ryan is going to a Halloween party at one of his friend’s houses. Eddie was a little nervous when he first heard the news, but you calmed him down by reminding him that Ryan is a good kid. It’s not that Eddie doesn’t trust Ryan, though–it’s that he doesn’t trust the other kids. But he has to let his son be a teenager.

Luke’s best friend has the flu, so instead of Sean joining your kids to go around your neighborhood, it’s just going to be the brother and sister duo. Plus Eddie, of course. 

Since you don’t get to go out and see Eliza and Luke in action (or Ryan, for that matter) this time around, you all decided that you will help them with any hair or makeup that needs to be done as part of their costumes. 

The moment she steps foot in the house after school, Eliza wants to start getting ready. After a quick shared snack of cut up grapes and pretzels, the transformation begins.

The first step for Eliza is to take a bath and wash her hair. Your headstrong daughter told you that she wanted straight hair because she doesn’t want her crown to snag in her curls. You can’t blame her honestly—you remember the tiara debacle from her second birthday. 

But to achieve your little girl’s request, you have to use a blow dryer to give her a proper blow out. You had no clue how to do this, so thank God for YouTube. You must’ve watched every tutorial you could find—which was not a lot, honestly—on blow drying a child’s spiral curls. 

Surprisingly, Eliza is calm and patient while you do your best to remember advice from the videos. The four-year-old sits in a chair parked in front of your vanity as you buzz around behind her. The plethora of clips you have prepared to section off the hair lay in front of Eliza, practically begging for her to pick them up and play with them. And being four, that’s exactly what she does.

“Okay, here we go,” you say once you have every section of hair parted like you want. “Ready?”

Eliza gives you a thumbs up in the mirror, a neon green hair clip on the tip of her finger. 

Drying the first few chunks of hair makes you feel a bit uncoordinated and wish you had a few more hands to help out, but once you get into the groove, you find the blowing out pretty easy. It also makes Eliza’s hair soft and silky, the strands running through your fingers like a cool breeze. 

“It feels so pretty!” Eliza exclaims once you’ve finished her entire head. She laughs as she runs her fingers through her straightened hair. Neither of you have seen it this way before. Of course she looks absolutely beautiful, but you do miss her curls. 

Eliza hops down from the chair and looks up at you, batting her unfairly long eyelashes. 

“Now makeup?” she asks, voice syrupy sweet.

You let out a bark of laughter as you put your hair dryer away.

“Do you want your father to divorce me?” you joke. 

“It’s Halloween!” Eliza argues.

“I know, I know,” you say. You’re too tired to argue with her and if Eddie wants to argue later, he can say whatever he wants to your sleeping body. 

“Just a little?” Eliza holds her thumb and forefinger half an inch away from one another. 

“Just a little,” you acquiesce. 

You pat the seat in front of your vanity and Eliza climbs back up. She continues to admire her straight locks as you dig out your makeup bag. 

“Okay,” you say as you rifle through it. A pale blush catches your eye and you scoop that out along with a coral lipstick. You’re not going to put any eye makeup on her though—you need to save your eyeliner for Luke, anyway. You hold up the two items you plucked out and show them to Eliza. “Good?”

She stretches her neck to give them the best inspection she possibly can. What she’s trying to determine, you have no idea. Eventually though, she must find it.

“Good,” she affirms with a nod of her head. 

Dusting the blush on the tops of her round cheeks makes you smile. You’re having fun with this. Sure, you and girlfriends would have fun getting all dolled up when you were younger, but that doesn’t hold a candle to being able to do that with your daughter now. 

“My goodness,” you say, mostly to yourself, as you finish applying the blush. “Next thing I know you’ll be going to prom.”

Eliza giggles at this.

“Mooooom! That’s Ryan!”

You smile and nod your head in concession. Ryan will be going to his junior prom this year. 

“Alright,” you say to Eliza. “Put your lips like this.” You open your mouth, showing your daughter how to position herself best for you to apply lipstick. “This will probably come off when we have dinner, but we can reapply.”

Once you’re finished and capping the small golden tube of lipstick, Eliza examines herself in the mirror. Not just her straightened hair now, but her doe brown eyes study her face as well. An adorable, dimpled grin grows on her face, and it makes your heart swell. 

“Do you know how beautiful you are, Eliza Marie Munson?” 

You pick her up from the chair and hold her on your hip. She’s getting too old for this—plus, you probably shouldn’t be doing this since you’re pregnant—but you want to hold your baby girl. 

“I don’t mean just right now. Always so beautiful,” you say. “Your smile, your eyes, your hair. Your adorable little nose that I just wanna bite.” You teasingly scrape your front teeth over the tip of her nose. She giggles and pulls her face away. 

“I’m pretty like Mama,” Eliza says. 

Even if you didn’t have pregnancy hormones coursing through your body, her words would have caused the same effect. Warm tears flood your eyes, and it takes maximum effort to keep them from spilling. 

“Maybe I’m pretty like Eliza,” you say once you’re able to speak.

The little girl shakes her head, straight hair swaying like a sleek silk sheet in the wind.

“You were first!” she says.  

“You’re such a smarty.”

“I know!”

Eliza is practically vibrating in excitement when you pull her Halloween costume out of the closet. She gasps with joy when her eyes land on the pink Sleeping Beauty dress. You slip the polyester over her head and she’s quick to pull her soft, straight hair out of the way. As soon as you have the back zipped up, the little girl starts galloping around her room.

“I’m a princess, I’m a princess!”

“We’ll save the crown for later, okay, Your Majesty?” you say as you close her closet.

“Kay!”

Eliza’s galloping turns to skipping as she goes through her bedroom door and down the hallway. There’s a smile on your face as you follow her out—walking slowly in your case, though. 

“Mama? Can we watch Sleeping Beauty?” she asks once you’re in the living room with her.

“Sure thing, sweet pea.”

You pop in the DVD, then plop down on the couch, your body thankful for the rest after you’ve been so active the last hour or so with Eliza. 

You’re expecting your daughter to climb up on the couch with you, but instead, she starts marching in circles between the coffee table and the television. Her costume goes schwick, schwick, schwick with every step she takes; the polyester rubbing up against itself and her short legs. 

The movie opens upon the kingdom celebrating the birth of the new princess, and Eliza begins to sing along, her step never faltering. 

Hail to the Princess Aurora

All of her subjects adore her

Hail to the King, hail to the Queen

Hail to the Princess Aurora

Health to the Princess

Wealth to the Princess

Long live the Princess Aurora

As the narrator comes back to speak, Eliza comes over and settles herself next to you on the worn couch. She sits on her knees, facing you. It’s silent for a minute—unusual for this household. Then, the small girl leans forward and rests one hand on your swollen belly.

“Mommy?” she asks.

“Yes, my love?” You tuck a dark strand of hair behind her ear.

“Ryan named me, right?”

“Well, he was the first one who suggested the name. Daddy and I are the ones who decided on it,” you explain.

She nods her head in understanding, the piece of hair you put behind her ear falling forward again with the motion. 

“Can I sugges…uh, uhjest, zuh…”

“Suggest?” you offer kindly.

“Yeah, that. Can I suh-gest a name?” she asks.

“Go ahead, sweet pea.”

Eliza leans in closer to your belly. She rubs her small hand from side to side; it almost looks like she’s a waitress trying to wipe down a table. 

“If the baby’s a girl, I think you should name her Aurora,” she declares. 

You watch as Eliza stares at your bump, like if she looks hard enough, she’ll see the baby growing beneath your layers of skin and muscles. It brings a smile to your face, how much she already cares about her little sibling. 

“I think that’s a beautiful name.” And you do, you’re not just patronizing her.

“Yeah?” Eliza’s head tilts up and she looks at you with wide eyes. Eyes so much like her father’s that it sometimes takes your breath away. 

“Yeah,” you reply with a nod. “I’ll bring it up to Daddy.” 

A proud smile grows on your daughter’s coral-painted lips. She gives one last loving pat to your belly before situating herself so she’s sitting next to you, hip to hip.

“We’re not going to know if the baby is a boy or girl until they’re born, though,” you explain before the four-year-old gets caught up in the movie again. “I have the doctors soon and they’re going to let us see a picture of the baby. But Daddy and I decided we want to be surprised.” 

“Did you know me?” Eliza asks, her head tilting to the side like an inquisitive puppy. 

“Yep! They told us you’re a girl and Daddy and I were so happy.”

A thoughtful hum emanates from the small girl as she turns her attention back to the movie. A minute later, she lifts your arm so she can snuggle into your side. You happily wrap your arm around her and enjoy the cuddles. 

When it’s time for dinner, Eliza does not want to change out of her princess costume. So, in order to keep it stain-free through the meal, you wrap her up in her fluffy pink bathrobe. She finds this hilarious and waddles to the dinner table like a pink Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. 

The moment her bottom lands in her chair, Eddie is looking at the little girl with a raised eyebrow. His gaze then shifts to you. When he pointedly looks back at Eliza, then you, you realize it’s about the makeup. But you’re going to make him say it out loud.

“What?” you ask, spearing a green bean with your fork.

“I didn’t know we had Tammy Faye coming to dinner tonight,” he says. 

You roll your eyes as all three of your kids chime in with, “Who?”

“Eliza is a princess, Eddie. She deserves the royal treatment,” you say. 

“Uh huh,” he hums before taking a sip of his water.

“What time is Chase’s mom picking you up tonight, Ryan?” you ask.

Your eldest wipes his mouth off with an already messy napkin before responding.

“Like, eight, I think.”

“Make sure his mom takes pictures of you all!” you add.

“Whatchu gonna be?” Eliza asks, twirling a green bean around on her fork.

“Me and my friends are going as The Beatles,” he tells her.

“You’re gonna be bugs?” Eliza’s eyes practically pop out of her tiny skull. 

“No,” Ryan says with a chuckle. “The Beatles are a band.”

“Yeah, you like that one song they sing,” Luke chimes in. “Desmond takes a trolley to the jeweller's store. Buys a twenty-carat golden ring. Takes it back to Molly waiting at the door and as he gives it to her, she begins to sing!”

Eliza’s eyes light up.

“Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on, brah! La-la, how their life goes on. Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on, brah. La-la, how their life goes on!”

She wiggles in her seat as she sings, using her fork as an impromptu microphone. 

“Which Beatle are you?” Luke asks.

“George,” Ryan replies.

“Aw, is that because everyone always forgets about you, too?” Luke jokes, a smirk on his face.

Ryan shoves Luke, which only makes the younger brother laugh harder.

After dinner and once you’ve reapplied Eliza’s lipstick, the little girl sits on the edge of the bathtub and watches you do Luke’s makeup. You’re no makeup artist, but you know more than the teenage boy does, so he puts his trust in you to make him look like an authentic zombie.

It mostly consists of making his face look as sickly pale as possible and contrasting that with dark eyes. You’re pretty sure you’ve put so much eyeliner on your son that it will take him all night to scrub off. Or, knowing Luke, he’ll just leave it and try to sneak out of the house like that in the morning. Somehow, you don’t think his school would appreciate that. 

“Do you have any green stuff?” Luke asks as you cap the eyeliner.

“Green stuff? What do you mean? Like, eyeshadow?”

“Yeah! I wanna look kind of moldy.” His eager grin makes you chuckle as you rifle through your makeup bag.  

“Eww!” Eliza wrinkles up her nose.

“Well, sorry, Your Highness.” Luke says as you pull out a palette of eyeshadow containing a forest green shade. “We zombies can’t be as clean and fancy as you princesses!”

Your four-year-old stands up and smooths out the ruffles of her skirt with an air of someone five times her age. 

“Try,” is all the little girl says before walking out of the bathroom. 

You and Luke look at one another before bursting into laughter.

“How do I look?” Luke slides into the room on his socked feet with his arms held out at his sides. He’s changed into a pair of jeans that incidentally are ripped almost all the way down the left side after he tore them trying to hop over a fence. Luckily, it was only a few weeks ago, so Luke knew he could keep them for this very night. On top he’s wearing an old grease and oil-stained white t-shirt that Eddie will throw on under his coveralls for work, and an old blue and green flannel of Wayne’s that he took a pair of scissors to, so it looks ripped and ragged. 

“Wait, where’s your costume?” Ryan asks sarcastically, adjusting the black skinny tie he’s wearing. “I thought you were going to put on makeup?”

“Ha ha,” Luke deadpans while Eliza’s brow furrows.

“He does got makeup on,” she says.

“Ryan was just trying to be mean and say Luke looks like this all the time,” Eddie leans down to her on the couch to explain.

“Oh. Mean, Ryan!”

“Well, you look lovely, Your Majesty,” Ryan replies, bowing down before her.

The flattery clearly works with his little sister as she smiles proudly and kicks her feet excitedly. 

You stroll into the room just as there’s a knock on the front door.

“That’s probably Chase,” Ryan says before heading in that direction.

“Looks good, Luke,” Eddie tells his younger son. 

“I have a good makeup artist,” he replies. 

“What about Daddy?” Eliza pipes up.

“What do you mean, sweet pea?” he asks her. 

“You don’t got a costume or makeup.”

“I don’t need any,” Eddie tells her with a shake of his head.

“I don’t know,” you say with a shrug. “I kinda agree with her.”

Your husband cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh?”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Luke, can you go grab the eyeliner from my makeup bag?”

The zombie salutes you before heading back down the hall.

As you start to slowly walk towards the couch, Eddie looks at you with an unamused expression. 

“Do I really need makeup, babe?” His voice is as flat as his interest.

“I guess you don’t need it,” you say, shrugging one shoulder. When you come to stand in front of him, you place one knee on each side of Eddie’s hips, straddling his lap. “I think you’d look really good in some eyeliner, though.” Your hands slip up into his hair, where you give a gentle tug. “Since I don’t get to go trick-or-treating, maybe that could be my treat tonight?”

Eddie’s look of disinterest quickly morphs into excitement. 

“Whatever my princess wants,” Eddie croons.

“Uh, Daddy!” Eliza complains from the cushion next to you. “I am the princess!”

“Right,” Eddie says, turning his head to look at her. “Silly me. I forgot I have two princesses tonight.”

Ryan pops back into the room, his friend Chase right on his heels, when he sees you sitting in his dad’s lap with your hands in his hair. He automatically skids to a stop and begins to turn around.

“Nope,” he says, pushing his friend back towards the front door. “Don’t wanna be here for whatever this is. I’ll be back later!”

“Be careful,” you shout after him, while Eddie calls out, “Have fun!”

Luke returns with your eyeliner, and you happily accept it from him. Eliza stands up on the couch cushion and leans against your shoulder as you take the cap off the black pencil.

“I wanna watch,” the little princess says. 

“You can be my supervisor,” you say as you adjust yourself in Eddie’s lap. “Look up,” you tell him.

Eddie lifts his chin to look at the ceiling, but you guide his head back down where it was. 

“With just your eyeballs, please,” you clarify.

Following your instructions, Eddie’s eyes look skyward as you gently pull down on the lower lid of his left eye. Your hand is steady as you run the pencil back and forth against his waterline. 

It’s a good thing two of your kids are in the room because, just having a little bit of eyeliner on, you’re already eager to jump your husband’s bones. 

“It’s a crime you don’t wear this more,” you murmur as you move your concentration to his upper eyelid.

“Well, maybe after tonight I will,” Eddie answers in a velvety tone.

“Dad, why would you—ugh, gross.” 

Eddie smirks as Luke catches on to what the two of you are alluding to. You let out a soft chuckle as you move to his other eye.

“Why don’t you have Luke put your crown on you?” You suggest to Eliza.

“Yes!” 

She quickly hops off the couch and runs over to Luke, grabs his hand, and attempts to drag him down the hallway with her. 

Eddie rests his hands on your hips as you finish up, rubbing his thumbs against the material of your sweatpants. 

“Want me to be your rockstar tonight?” Eddie asks.

“And I will be your groupie,” you say as you pop the cap back on the pencil. Arousal kicks up in you as you take in the sight of your already-sexy husband in eyeliner. “Your groupie who will let you do whatever you want to her,” you purr.

“Happy Halloween, indeed,” Eddie says, waggling his eyebrows at you. 

“You done?” Eliza asks as she bursts back into the room, her plastic golden crown perched on top of her head. “Good! Let’s go, Daddy!”

“But Mommy’s on my lap,” Eddie says.

“Mamaaaaa,” Eliza whines. “Get up!”

“Excuse me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Please,” she adds softly.

“Yeah. Please,” Luke adds as he follows his little sister back in the room.

Both you and Eddie chuckle as you slide off his lap. You press a kiss to his lips.

“Alright, you guys,” you say to all three of them, “be safe and have a good time.”

“We will!” Eliza assures you.

She picks up her pink pumpkin bucket from the coffee table and hands her older brother his blue one.

“Let’s go!”

You, Eddie, and Luke watch as the little girl marches towards the front door in her pink princess dress.

“I guess we’re going,” Luke says as he follows after her. 

Eddie presses one last kiss to your lips.

“Maybe I’ll be wearing something different when you get home,” you tease. “Something…lacier, perhaps.”

Eddie groans and drops his head back.

“I’m about to make these kids get their candy in record time,” he says.

You giggle and shove him towards the front door.

“Alright, Mr. Rockstar. Go have fun.”

“Love you, baby.”

“Love you, too.”

Once the door closes behind the three of them, you let out a deep sigh and grab a handful of candy from the bowl that’s prepared for the trick-or-treaters. 

“How about it?” you ask your baby, looking down at your stomach. “We deserve some candy too, right? Right.”

The small batch of fun-sized candy bars fall into your lap as you plop down on the couch and grab the remote.

“Ooh, Beetlejuice,” you say as you come upon a channel playing the movie. “You’re in for a treat, kiddo. This is a good one.”

[the-kr8tor]

Autumn Shopping

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Summary: A late afternoon shopping with Hobie.

Word count: 1.2k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is taller than r), CW food mentions, reader loves autumn, BF! Hobie, FLUFF.

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Octobie 🎸

You both prefer to shop at the local grocer that has been passed down through generations. It's cozy and homely without all the harsh white fluorescent lights that whir, and the god awful brutalist corporate designs. Instead, the place smells of freshly baked cinnamon bread, and the interior feels like it's been well loved and taken care of through the years.

Hobie comes here ever since he was a kid, he practically grew up in the place and even worked in it when he was younger. And so far, you've made it your home too. Everyone knows you by name, and you know everyone. But every time you accompany him to the store, he needs to corral you away from buying things that are definitely not in the list. Mostly its sweets, or a glass cleaner that looks awfully like pink lemonade. He lets you indulge of course, who could say no to you whenever you flash those puppy dog eyes at him? But this time, there's no winning the battle nor the war with all the autumn themed merchandise on display.

He knows the moment you step into the double doors that you'll be whisked away towards the decorations in front like some old timey cartoon character who floats in the air with hearts in their eyes when a pie is near.

His hand holds your own in an attempt to guide you away from the soft orange and browns of the display, but there's no winning when there's a free taste stand right next to it.

“Hobie!” You tug him towards Cynthia, who's wearing an orange apron with a pumpkin on it. She immediately smiles and waves you over, gloved hand already procuring a sample of whatever cinnamon smelled sweet she has. “They brought it back for the season!”

“It's not goin’ anywhere, love.” He can't help but chuckle at your determined face as you continue to practically drag him on the floor. His boots add weight, you know.

“They might run out of them!” You sniff at the tray full of sweetened tiny pieces of said pastry. It's still warm, and the melting sugar on top makes your mouth water. “They look so good.” You gasp, hand still holding Hobie's.

“Remember, love, we only came for toothpaste and bread.”

“This is bread, Hobie.” You smirk, and Hobie sighs in endearment at your excitement. “Besides, it's free! Right, Cynthia?”

“Absolutely, if you like it gramps is baking a new batch right now and it'll be finished in just a few.” She answers, already giving you a couple of samples to share with Hobie. “Hey, kid, how's the band going?” She addresses Him with a bright smile.

“They’re good, Ned wants to say thanks for the tip with the mechanic.”

“No worries.” Cynthia waves him off while you munch on the pastry. Hobie eyes how you eat both samples with gusto. “Flash is a dick anyway, he needed a reality check with his prices— careful, sweetheart, you might choke.” Chuckling, she hands you a napkin and you promptly wipe your lips free of sugar and crumbs.

“‘Hanks!” You mumble while still chewing. Turning to face Hobie, swallowing, you smile at his amused grin. “We need a box of these right now or I'll eat the whole tray.”

Wiping cinnamon dust off the corner of your lips with his thumb, Hobie rubs it on your shirt collar teasingly. “That's for eatin’ my sample.”

You shake your head with a lopsided grin, “Wasted opportunity, Hobs.” Hobie raises his brow questioningly. But before he could ask what you meant, you're already thanking Cynthia while you whisk him away towards the whole aisle that contains all the autumn and Halloween decorations.

Hobie pulls you mid stride, your trainers squeak against the tiles, and your back meets his chest. “What did you mean by that, hm?” He whispers in your ear as you hobble towards the aisle with his warm arms around you.

“Nothing.” You say in a sing-song tone.

“Nothin'?” He nudges your temple with his nose, and you ignore him as you take a pumpkin shaped pillow, squeezing it in your hands. He snatches the pillow from you and places it on the top shelf where you can't reach it. “Nothin' isn't just nothin’ with you, lovie.”

“Hey!” Huffing, you tilt your head back, facing him as he looks at you with softness akin to the pillow you were just holding. You look at him through your lashes, smile getting wider every time his eyes narrow at you accusingly. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Tell me and I'll let you buy one thing in this aisle.” He jokes with a ghost of a smile.

“Let me?!” You scoff, twisting around to face him properly. With your palms on his chest you pat him to the rhythm of the pop song that's playing in the speakers. “You know damn well that I will buy this entire aisle just to spite you.”

He chuckles as he cups your cheeks. “You'll go bankrupt.” He got the right reaction from you.

“I don't care, I'm supporting a family business.” You raise your nose at him, and he squeezes your nose in between his fingers.

He bets that if he kisses you right now he'll be able to taste the cinnamon on your lips. “C’mon, what did I waste?”

You grab his wrist to pull his hand away from your nose, giggling at his stubbornness. “You really want to know?”

“No, I don't.” He says sarcastically.

“Fine,” you mimic his tone. “What I meant back there was that, you should've tried the frosting when you wiped it from my lip.”

Hobie's smile widens, and he guffaws so loudly that it echoes around the whole store. There might not be a lot of people shopping right now but you still put your palm on his mouth to quiet his laughter even though you love his laugh to bits. You practically did it against your will so you two don't get kicked out like what happened a year ago. You still cringe whenever you remember it.

“Stop laughing!” You say while giggling. His laughter is muffled under your hand. Arms wrap around your waist, and he leads you towards the autumn scented candles further down the aisle. “Where are you taking me?” Looking over your shoulder, you smile affectionately at his wordless gesture.

“Or you could've fed me my share of the sample instead of eatin’ it all.” Hobie moves his head back to remove your hand away from his mouth all without taking his hands off of your waist. “You read too many romance novels, love.” He teases, he loves it when you read it to him whenever he wants to fill the silence.

“Apparently not a lot.” You lean closer to peck his jaw chastely. “It got you weak in the knees though, right?”

He can't deny how his heartbeat quickened ten fold when you suggested it. He'll tuck that idea you gave him in his mind and maybe he'll do it when you least expect it. “Go sniff your bloody candles.”

“Such a romantic.” You pat his cheek before you turn towards the glass candles. As you sniff at a pinkish candle, you hear shuffling from behind you. “You know that I have to get that pillow, right?”

Something soft and orange hits the side of your face, “and we still need toothpaste or we'll start brushing our teeth with your candles.” He says as you squeal and cuddle the pumpkin throw pillow all the while wanting to kiss him right in the middle of the aisle.

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[pseudowho]

What would a Kento Nanami do for his birthday? The possibilities are near endless my brain can’t contain it!

What say you, Mrs. Haitch?

So if he were alone, I think he'd start by calling up his parents, and his grandfather, who lives with Kento's parents and is an elderly, Danish man by this point. He taught Kento Danish as a child, and they sit and have a quiet little conversation while Kento makes himself a coffee. He knows he's privileged that his grandfather is still alive, in his eighties and generally poorly behaved not me headcanoning Kento's grandfather as one of the last remaining Witchers of Europe and having left it all behind for Kento's Japanese grandmother and so secretly it's where Kento got his Curse Sight from and I know there are plotholes in this and this is a Headcanon for another day but anyway

Kento doesn't dress up; he dresses down. All black. His comfiest black slim fit jeans, an old band t-shirt. He wishes he could wear a big heavy overcoat, a black one like he used to, but the weather is too warm, even early. His hair is mussed and soft. He heads out for breakfast, finding a favourite little bistro.

He tells nobody that it's his birthday. He's off work for other, boring reasons, according to everyone else. He sees another year pass, and wonders with an edge of melancholy, if this is the last birthday he will celebrate.

Taking a book with him, he enjoys a long, slow breakfast. He ensures he finishes that book, and walks a languid walk to a local bookshop, to buy the next.

He visits the market. Buys loads of fresh food, cheese and bread, olives. Fresh olive oil, infused with garlic and truffle. A cake he knows he will be too full up to eat.

He sleeps in late, and goes to bed early; but cannot sleep. The corest part of him wonders if he should see his birthday through until midnight. He wonders and wonders and gets up and goes for a snack. He wonders. If this year is the year he falls in love. If this year is the year he gets a cat, like he always wanted. He couldn't, he thinks. He's away too much. It isn't fair.

By the time he reaches midnight, he is steeped in red wine and camembert, and god, does he want to live. He wants to live more than anything, not work and work on the promise of living later.

It will be the Autumn, soon. After Halloween passes, he will hand in his notice.

His elderly grandfather misses him the most.

Except, that didn't happen. The boy with the pink hair who loves Kento so deeply arrived in time. Kento lived. His grandfather cried, stroking over Kento's burns with a clawed over hand.

The next year, Kento took Yuuji out for cake...to say thank you.

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[snghnlvr]

dog whisperer. | sim jaeyun

jake sim x fem reader

synopsis: maybe dogs do bring people together, especially towards your new neighbor.

includes: 890 words | neighbors x friends | fluff!! | dogs know what’s up 😏

extra: i finally know how to make a mood board…. so now it won’t look wonky whenever i post .. he.. he.. | i made this when i was sad lol | jake is very boy next door coded <3 | i’m so delusional for this man (i still love sunghoon)

likes, comments, and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

[below the cut]

“i’m gonna walk bella.” you shouted across the room to your mother who was in the kitchen making diner. you shouted enough to hope that she heard you as you finished dressing to your cocker spaniel to prevent her from being dirty. you smiled at her when she’s patiently waiting to be dressed.

“alright y/n, just go where the grass is, bella likes it there the most.” your mom informed you as she was cutting up vegetables. you hummed as a reply. 

before you put on a leash, you put on your headphone so you can be in bubble space when walking bella. 

you were all set to walk bella as she kept barking at you to hurry up. you giggled at your dog running to the door, “okay okay bella i heard you!” you locked her with the leash and finally went outside. 

after walking bella for 10 minutes, around the neighborhood block. you were heading back home once night was settling in. 

as it was in the middle of autumn, it was kind of chilly to walk around with a sweater and shorts however it didn’t concern as your eyes were occupied of the scenery with the leaves crumpled into piles on the floor and sunset reflecting on your skin. 

it was raining two days again yet you still smell it’s crispiness. you cringed upon your imagination to step onto a puddle with your shoes on and letting the water seep into your socks. 

as something disrupts your thoughts, you immediately become alarmed when you see a big yellow dog from the yard. with your instincts you carried bella into your arms as you were intimidated by the size difference; that yellow dog was 2x the size of bella! 

“where is your owner??” you mumbled to yourself and the dog who seemed to be interested in you and bella. bella’s eyes keep looking at the dog but stayed in your arms. 

there was a young boy who came out of the yard, looking hysterically around. “layla!” he called out, grabbing the attention of you and the dog that’s named layla. 

you were speechless of his beauty. your eyes trailed to his every action and your heart stopped when he kneeled in front of you, petting the dog. 

he was wearing black sweatpants, black puffer, black shirt - just straight up black everything including his hair color yet it looked so attractive on him.

he finally looked up to you and you nearly stumbled with the eye contact. 

he smiled. “i’m sorry but she likes to run around often.” he chuckles and you are intrigued at how deep it was. you’re still speechless trying to process this handsome this boy was in front of you, you wondered if he was engraved by the gods.

“oh..” you whispered to yourself, trying to think what you should say. you saw the boy stand up and your heart started to beat faster at how tall he is. “she’s cute.” you mentioned seeing the yellow dog smiling widely while sitting down.

“thank you! her name is layla, she’s a cream border collie.” you noticed how he ruffled his dog, making her lean into his touch on his leg. he giggled. 

“how about your dog?” his eyes laid onto the small dog in your hands. you realized you’re still holding bella. “hi cutie..” your heart fluttered when he tried to make eye contact to your dog, speaking to bella softly as bella whines, trying to escape from your arms which caught you off guard. 

“her name is bella, she’s a cocker spaniel like from the movie lady and the tramp.” you smiled, trying to hide your nervousness. 

“she?” he questioned, looking at you but you couldn’t handle it still so you kept looking and petting bella. you nodded.

you noticed how his eyes lights up. “bella and layla can be friends then!” you looked at layla. “be nice layla..” he spoke to her gently as it seems like layla got the message. 

you slowly put bella down, keeping the leash close to you in case anything happens. you noticed how the two sniffled each other and then suddenly wagged their tails together. you were surprised at how they quickly got along. 

“oh i think they like each other.” you smiled at the two dogs bonding as you heard a yeah from him beside you. 

“i’m jake by the way.” he suddenly mentioned. you turned your body, looking up at him and he smiled at you. you heart warmed at how sweet he was looking. “i’m new here.” he added.

“i’m y/n.” you didn’t give back exactly the same energy but you were smiling at him shyly. then your eyebrows perked up. “new?” you questioned as he nodded.

“yeah my family and i moved back from korea,” jake shifted his body, pointing to a house that seemed to be close to you. “the red one.. right there.” he stated and it made your jaw drop because your house was next to his.

“that’s funny, i’m the one right next to yours, the white one.” you mentioned, giggling as jake looked surprised with his eyes widened and his jaw open, replicating your expression. 

“hi new neighbor,” you spoke, sparing a smile to him. you hope that will be the start of sharing more smiles with him. “jake.”

[sstan-hoe]

◇ 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐋𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐬 ◇

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — andy barber × fem!wife!reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Andy bought you new shoes and you love them, you wear them everywhere at any chance you get. The only downside is that after a little while they get uncomfortable…

��𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — SMUT, p in v (unprotected), mention of edging, light degrading (very light) spanking (like once), idk what else

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — I won't be posting for a little while now, my plan is to finish some fics and have them ready for all of you!! reblog/ comment and follow!

It wasn’t a new thing that Andy carried you around. He always had the excuse “you’re my wife why would you need to walk?”

However, a few weeks ago he gifted you a pair of black Louboutin heels and you adored them.

You would wear them on every occasion, yes, they were painful but who wouldn’t want to look hot? 

Besides, anyone who wants to look beautiful must suffer.

Recently the two of you attended a party with some of Andy’s colleagues. Of course, he knew you would wear the heels, but if he talked against a wall, he would have had better chances.

As Andy rounded the corner, he saw you standing in front of the mirror at the entrance, wearing a black cocktail dress, golden hoops with a matching necklace and the black Louboutin.

He wanted to ask you if you really wanted to wear them, but he already knew the answer.

So instead, he just snaked his arm around your waist pulling you against him and laying his hand softly on your cheek.

He titled your head up giving you a loving kiss on your lips.

Andy’s lips left yours, but you chased after him to capture him in a passionate kiss. While you were concentrating on the kiss, Andy sneaked his hands down your body.

His plan was easy: seduce you, you're horny and want to stay home and prevent you from being in pain.

Andy softly withdraws his lips from yours once again. He kneels down while kissing down your leg. His hands felt soft against your skin as he lifted your leg with his right hand.

The other one slid down to your feet until it reached your shoe.

A small chuckle escaped you as you realized what he was doing, lifting your foot pressing the sole against his forehead like Margot Robbie in Wolf of Wall Street.

“What do you think you're doing?” you asked in a low voice.

„Darlin‘ I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” Andy gave you those concerning eyes. “Andy they’re painful but sexy and you gifted them to me, I want to wear them all the time.”

Andy sighed in return, “my love you can wear other heels you know I won’t be mad, and you look sexy in everything you wear,” he stood up cupping your face in his large hands, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“No, I will wear them,” with that you turned around and opened the door stepping into the cool air of the beautiful autumn night.

With a sigh Andy walked after you, this was going to be a long night.

The car came to a stop in front of the bar where you would be meeting Andy’s colleagues. Your man turned to face you, “you can still change your mind darlin’,” he said gently but you shook your head, “no, let’s go, we don’t want to be late,” you said and got out of the car.

Andy stayed back for a moment, his mind running wild as he thought of a way to help you. In the end he could only watch you and make sure you were comfortable. After all you were his stubborn wife who he loved with every cell in his body, he’d do everything for you.

Quickly he walked after you, interlocking your fingers with his as you stepped inside the bar.

Said bar was filled with Andy’s colleagues, some you recognized, others you didn’t - not that you minded as most of them were arrogant assholes.

“Ooh, look at you, you look amazin’,” gushed Marta, the wife of Andy’s assistant. She seemed like a nice woman, but god you didn’t like her. She was always chipper, but it often looked like she was faking it.

“Thank you, you look great too,” you answered with a polite smile while guiding Andy’s hand around your waist and pressing yourself against his side.

Andy smiled to himself as he noticed what you were doing, gladly he tightened his hold on you.

Then Marta began talking, she talked like a waterfall and at some point you needed to escape. “I’m gonna get us some drinks,” you excused yourself and took a deep breath once your back was turned to them.

As you walked towards the counter you could already feel your feet hurting. You hated that Andy was right, but these shoes were too beautiful not to wear.

You hopped onto the bar stool and ordered a juice as well as a beer for Andy. Once you got the drinks and stepped from the chair, you hissed at the burning sensation. There would definitely be blisters by the end of the night.

Giving Andy his beer, he noticed the slight distress on your face. He decided to ignore it for now, knowing you wouldn’t say anything.

The conversation continued for a little while, in the middle you had shifted almost a lot of your weight onto him. Andy didn’t mind, but this only showed him how right he was. However the two of you couldn’t quite leave yet.

You kept your posture up, no one but Andy noticed how much your feet started to hurt.

“Look at this sweet arm candy you got there Barber,” a man said who came to stand next to your husband.

Andy turned his head to the man and glared at him, “my wife, looks beautiful and is not arm candy, Chad,” his tone was harsh.

God, some of these assholes could just go fuck themselves and you’d love to slap the shit out of them.

After another thirty minutes you needed to sit down, you nudged Andy’s arm and gestured to a table to sit on. Not asking questions Andy walked with you towards the table, before you could sit on one of the tables there was an extra step to go.

As you lifted your foot to step up, your knees almost buckled in once your foot hit the parquet. Luckily Andy was there to support you.

He didn’t say a word but you knew what he was thinking, “I’m fine,” you said quickly. “I didn’t say anything,” he countered with a knowing smile.

Both of you finished your drinks and you only hoped Andy didn’t want another beer. Seeing how uncomfortable you were, he did the only right thing.

With a sigh he slipped out of his shoes and pushed them towards you, “come on, take ‘em of darlin’,” he told you. Pouting you slipped them off and handed them to Andy before putting on his - way too big, but comfortable - shoes.

“What will your colleagues think?” you asked concerned, eyes dropping, “I don’t care what they think, I don’t want my wife to feel uncomfortable. Now, let’s get ya home,” standing up in his socks, he held his hand out to you.

“I wasn’t even that uncomfortable,” you argued as you walked out of the bar.

Then almost over the curb and falling into Andy, "okay, darlin'," chuckling he scooped you up into his arms.

He carried you the rest to the car, putting you in the passenger seat and buckling on your seat belt. Kissing the top of your head before giving you the heels and closing the door.

slutty bonus, you whore's

"You're lucky I love carrying you around," he stated as his hand came to rest on your thigh.

"You know, if I didn't know it better I'd say you're disobeying me on purpose…," he growled into the crook of your neck as his hips bucked into you.

"I'm – fuck – sorry!" you have been apologizing for thirty minutes now, being edged three times and you begged Andy wouldn't make it a four. "See, I don't think you're sorry," his tone was almost mean, he mocked you.

"Can feel how tight you are, how you keep squeezing me. I know it turns you on, don't lie to me darlin'," as if you ever could.

You gripped onto the satin sheets, Andy picked his pace up not caring for you – this was a punishment after all.

Not much of a punishment though if you enjoyed it.

"Andy," you rasped, feeling your stomach tighten. You desperately need to live the euphoria.

Complete joy and pleasure building up, "please, please, please," you moaned when he hit that spot.

"Hold it," Andy demanded, railing you, splitting you open. "No, no, I can't!" you cried, shaking your head. Your husband didn't care, he gripped your throat, "yes you can, if you don't…then you won't come at all."

Shutting your eyes, you tried to concentrate on keeping the orgasm inside until Andy allowed you.

He was close himself and already felt his cock twitching, "come, fucking hell," he muttered, rutting into you like a starved man.

You reach the mind-blowing release of endorphins. Clenching to hold onto the feeling until you finally give in and let go. Moans howling through the walls.

Before you could register anything you were turned on your stomach. Ass slapped twice.

"Let's paint that pretty ass of yours, shall we darlin'?"

𝑩𝑶𝒀𝑺 𝑶𝑵𝑬 — @smile1318 @wintasssoldier @xcaptain-winterx @georgiapeach30513 @alina02 @broadwaybabe18 @jobean12-blog @buckymcu12 @shara-ne @lou-la-lou @pomarildreams

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | @sstanhoe-updates blog where new fics will always be reblogged in case you're not interested in the taglist as it has conditions

[the1975attheirverybest]

A/N: sorry about the delay. Todays been hectic. This is day one of promptober

Prompt: meet cute

Warnings: none

——

“Jesus- fuck!! Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Matty hissed, reflexively pulling his hand away, and dropping the remainder of the half empty coffee cup that had not spilled all over him in a splat against the pavement. He leaned against the car, his coffee-soaked gym clothes adhering to his skin.

“Good morning- umm, you need some help?”

He heard a bright voice from behind him and instantly make an effort to put on a smile before turning around. He’d assumed the young lady with the hefty-looking tote bag hanging off her shoulder was a fan. Probably coming over to ask for a quick selfie or an autograph before she’d caught him cursing under his breath. He never wanted his mood or mental state to ever taint a fans experience of him or rub off on anyone else. So, with open arms and deep breaths, he approached her, ready to put aside his troubles and be present in the moment.

“No, I’m just English, and…it’s October. Los Angeles weather makes no sense to me, and-“ when she looked puzzled, stepping away as he got closer, Matty realized she had no idea who he was. “Oh, god. Sorry. I’m a fuckin idiot, aren’t I?”

“I…don’t know you well enough to answer that.” She laughed. “But it does seem like you’re having a morning.”

“It’s just that I’ve rented this car. And it won’t turn on. And I went to pull out my phone, you know, to call the agency but- the coffee shop over there was out of lids, and-“ he gestured vaguely in the air.

She nodded along sympathetically. “Sounds awful; I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, I’ve got…hmm” she glance down at her phone, “fifty minutes. Okay that’s not bad. Let me help you out.”

“You don’t have to. It’s fine I’ll call someone and-“

“I’ve got somewhere you can get cleaned up and I know a guy who’s good with cars. C’mon.” She began walking up the street, taking for granted that Matty would follow her. So, he did.

***

“Let me- umm- help” Matty attempted to hold her tote bag for her as she wrangled her key into the door, but he was too late. She’d pried it open and walked inside.

“Welcome to my humble business.” She announced, feeling around the wall for the light switch. “We don’t behind open for another 45 minutes so please shut the door behind you.”

Matty made sure the “closed” sign was facing outwards before pushing the door shut.

“Alright, let’s see the damage that we’re working with here.” Her eyebrows raised, her head nodding towards his t shirt.

He pulled it over his head, slowly revealing his toned, tattooed torso. She couldn’t help but let her eyes linger for a moment, blushing involuntarily. He was beautiful.

“Thank you for this.” He muttered awkwardly.

“You bet.”

***

She’d finally emerged from the kitchen area of her bakery, smiling as she watched Matty pace around the room nervously. “You can sit down, you know.” She pointed towards one of the serving tables that still hand the chairs hanging upside-down from. “So, I have your t shirt soaking for a bit. I’ll dry it near the oven when it’s ready. But here you go. This is the car guy.”

“Thank you, really. You didn’t have to do all this.” Matty lowered a chair off the table, sinking into it and dialing the number she’d given him.

“Can I get you anything while you wait?”

Matty smiled, genuinely, for the first time this morning. “I could use some coffee actually. You know, one that isn’t being absorbed through the skin of my chest.”

She giggled. “How do you take your coffee? We’ve got fall flavors if you’d like a pumpkin spice.”

Matty rolled his eyes.

“Oh are you one of those men? You think pumpkin spice is girlie or gay or something? Lemme guess….you take your coffee black? Alright, grinch. One black coffee coming right up.”

By the time that she’d brought out his beverage, Matty had finished making his phone call.

“Here you go, sir.”

“Thank you- the grinch is for Christmas by the way. This is autumn.”

She giggled. “Whatever you say, grinch.”

“I never said I hate pumpkin spice.” Matty was on the defensive now. “I love it! It’s just- LA feels like summer. This…is not pumpkin spice weather. Feels wrong.”

“Okay so, you’re English. You hate LA. You…do jiujitsu- your stained shirt? It had the name of a martial arts academy printed on it - what else? You’re not actor are you?”

Matty sipped on his coffee. “Not an actor, no.”

“Thought so. You don’t look like one.”

Matty’s brows furrowed, he set down his coffee mug, resting his elbows on the table as he leaned in. “What’s that supposed to mean? Should I be offended?”

She chuckled, throwing her head back. “No. Trust me. You don’t wanna look like an actor in LA. They’re all over the place.”

“And you? Pumpkin spice is your full time job?” Matty winced at his own words. “Sorry that came out wrong. I’m a nice person, i promise. It’s the heat!”

She shook her head, smiling. “I’m really passionate about pumpkin spice.” She glanced down at her phone, then at the block-long line forming outside.

“Fuck! Oh shoot, shoot, shoot!!!” She jumped to her feet, rushing into the kitchen. “Unlock that door and let people in, would you?”

***

A shirtless Matty had found himself the host of LA’s finest caffeine- deprived bakery customers, eventually settling into his role by finding an apron to cover his nipples with, and working the cash register.

“Thank you for coming, enjoy that muffin, Pamela.” He smiled as the ancient lady with the cane eyed him from head to toes, winking at his biceps. “Watch your step now. Don’t want you falling. You’ve had enough knee surgeries for your age.”

He walked away from the counter once the first morning rush had died down, going into the kitchen. “I don’t think the scones are selling too well. Should I- I think we could start giving some away. With a purchase of large sized beverages.”

She stared at him, her mouth agape. It was difficult to focus on being dumbfounded by him when all she could think about is how beautiful his hair was, and how tightly that apron wrapped around him.

“I’m Matty, by the way.” He stuck his hand out for a handshake.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t think we’ve been properly introduced- like, officially.”

***

“Here you go. T shirt is now coffee free. And wearable again.”

“Sick!”

To her great disappointment, he undid the apron, pulling it off his body and replacing it with his original t shirt.

“Thanks for helping out. I feel bad though. Cuz, like, you could’ve been out there. Dealing with your car situation.”

“Oh, my car was fixed hours ago.”

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2024: Day 31 - Dusk

Tidmouth Train to Hell:

Pip and Emma stared at the timetable, not quite sure what to make of it. “Why is there a massive gap?” Pip finally said, still trying to wrap her head around the odd space from dusk until the next day. “Oh, that’s a Halloween tradition,” replied Bear, looking over from his own train. “Every Halloween they put us all away early for some reason. Never quite understood why, but each to their own and all that!” Pip scoffed, while Emma looked more bemused than anything.

The High-Speed diesels were still new to Sodor, and had only been once before, on trial during the summer period. This was their first October on the Island of Sodor, and all month they’d been amazed to find that the engines were far more interested in the holiday and its various traditions than the mainland was. Particularly, it was extremely popular amongst the native Sudrian people, who had been performing several rituals and festivals since the start of the month.

Emma had been far more curious about the whole thing than her sister, and decided to ask one of the older engines, in hope of getting some information. “Well,” hummed Percy, “it’s a Gaelic thing. Sauin, I believe the Sudrians call it. It’s like Samhain up in Scotland, and is all about the end of the harvest season. I remember how much Sir Topham the First put emphasis on listening to the local Sudrians about how important the rituals and festivals were. For example, at the start of the month is the cleansing ritual; it’s a bit like a spring clean, but in autumn. It used to be when the men would go out and start chopping wood for winter according to Edward.” At that moment, the signal clunked up to show green, and Percy puffed away.

Pip snorted from her end of the train. “Asking about all these silly holidays again?” she asked. “They’re not silly!” protested Emma. “They’re—” “An excuse to get more days off work,” finished Pip crossly. “Now come on, we’ve got a train to pull.”

Pip and Emma ran the WildNorWester express to London, stopping only at Crovan’s Gate, Barrow and Preston. It meant the two were often the most out of the loop on all the important gossip of the railway, as they were over on the mainland and missed it. One such titbit of gossip the pair missed was the track repairs being done at Crovan’s Gate. On their return run a week later, Pip and Emma were stopped at the platform to wait while several old signals and a set of points were replaced.

Their repair shed had recently been completed and stood on one side of the line while the narrow gauge railway sat on the other, the mainline trapped between the two and the Works. Pip and Emma had been switched onto the wrong side of the line to avoid a massive section of missing track. This put Emma right next to the Skarloey Railway sheds, where Duke was resting. “Excuse me,” Emma called. “You’ve been on Sodor for a long time, Duke – do you know much about Sau---een?” “Sauin,” corrected Duke kindly. “And I certainly do. My old line used to run through the heart of old Sodor, so I learnt all about it.” “Not this again!” groaned Pip from the other end of the train. Duke and Emma ignored her.

“Sauin is a festival to celebrate the end of the harvest, the start of the winter season… and the point in time when the barrier between our world and the Otherworld is at its weakest. The month begins by preparing for winter and giving thanks to the sun, before pivoting to asking for protection from the winter gods and giving sacrifices to the ancestors as thanks for their guidance. Then, it ends with Sauin itself, which is better known as Halloween. People celebrate the wicked and supernatural, then stay indoors overnight with scriptures for protection painted on the doorway to ward off evil spirits. It’s said they begin to break out of the Otherworld at Dusk, and party in our world until midnight…” Duke broke off, looking contemplative. Emma wasn’t sure why, but she felt uneasy all of a sudden.

A group of people walked along the platform, offering blessings to the stranded passengers and burning incense. Pip refused to be blessed, and then the group made their way over to Emma and Duke.

“Ah, if you wouldn’t mind,” Duke said. A man stepped forward, painting a sigil on Duke’s forehead in red paint before waving the incense around him. Duke smiled warmly, his old eyes closing as he relaxed while the ritual was performed.

“Oooh, can you do me next please!” asked Emma. The group nodded. “Of course we can,” one said. “Explain it to Emma while you do,” Duke added. “She’s new, and this is her first Sauin.” The man stepped forwards, dipping his thumb in some more paint.

“Alright then Emma, I’m going to paint a sigil for protection on your forehead in Ancient Sudric, and then we’ll bless you with the incense.” A few of the more curious tourists wandered over to watch, intrigued by the ritual. The man painted the sigil in careful strokes on Emma’s forehead, and then several of the others walked around her as much as they could, waving the incense over her radiator grills and wheels.

“Thank you!” said Emma happily when they finished. “I… I actually feel better already.” “You should,” hummed Duke. “It’s a popular Ancient Sudrian tradition to get blessed prior to Sauin night – just in case you’re caught out after dusk.”

Pip just rolled her eyes down at her end of the train.

Emma asked a few more questions while they waited, before finally deciding to broach a topic she’d been unsure of since she’d begun asking around about Sauin. “Why is the timetable completely empty on Sauin night?” she asked. Duke frowned. “I said everyone stays inside, so why would anyone want to take the train?” “What about tourists, or goods?” quizzed Emma. “This is Sodor – there’s always another reason.” “You’re… not wrong,” sighed Duke. “Every Halloween, a train runs from the Rolling Bridge to Tidmouth. It’s on no timetable, and has no schedule. Some engines assert it leaves at dusk, while others suggest it crosses the island in the blink of an eye. What is known about this train is that it arrives at Tidmouth at exactly midnight… and continues on through the buffers.” “Through the buffers?!” squeaked Emma. “What, do they crash the train on purpose?” “Oh no,” sighed Duke. “It’s a train to the Otherworld – though some of the workers call it the ‘Tidmouth Train to Hell’. It’s pure black from one end to the other, and absolutely no one is allowed to set eyes on it.”

“What happens if someone does?” asked Emma, spooked. Duke sighed. “Well – a man was walking along the line in ’37 when he saw it. He was found a gibbering wreck on the trackside, white as a ghost and shivering like mad. He spent the rest of his life in a mental asylum, poor chap.”

Emma winced; at that moment, the signal turned green, and the two High-Speed twins were cleared to go. The passengers hurried back aboard, and the twins set off.

“It’s poppycock,” sniffed Pip as they rocketed along. “Ooooo, be afraid of ‘The Tidmouth Train to Hell’. Duke’s trying to have you on. I bet if you ask a sensible engine like Henry or Gordon they’ll tell you it never happened!”

Pip was proven very wrong. Emma decided to ask the pair that very night, and to Pip’s surprise they immediately confirmed Duke’s story.

“Oh, old Jefferies,” hummed Gordon. “Duke told you about him? I’m surprised he didn’t use one of the earlier cases – when I arrived, people still didn’t believe in it, and we’d find three or four every Halloween stumbling about the line screaming and gibbering and acting like lunatics. I remember very vividly Glynn going down the line and picking them all up in a compartment coach so they could be kept separate and brought to the hospital safely. By the end of the 20s, every had learnt better than to be out on Halloween. Sir Topham always ensured that we were in our sheds on that night too, and his son and grandson have both followed his example.”

Pip and Emma were both stunned!

“So… it’s real?” asked Emma slowly. “It’s very real,” Henry said grimly. “I’ve seen a peek of it through the shed windows. It’s a frightening thing, let me tell you! All black, with great red headlamps and it’s puffs sound like screams. We all stay in here and tell ghost stories and try not to think about it. And I’d suggest you do the same – I know you’ve got the last train of the day. Do not be late getting here.”

Emma agreed that she definitely was going to be on time, and even Pip seemed nervous.

The week went by, and the two new engines watched as more and more Sauin festivals were held. These were less and less about the harvest, and more and more about the oncoming winter and the spirits. A number of the native Sudrians and older engines began to have protection sigils painted on their foreheads when they went out; Duke was joined by Skarloey, Rheneas, Thomas, Edward, Henry and Gordon within a few days. Donald and Douglas, who’d learnt about Samhain back in Scotland, had their own sigils written in Scottish Gaelic. Duck and Oliver got their own Scottish sigils written in support of their friends.

All around them, Pip and Emma watched as Sodor prepared for Sauin night. Hotels filled to capacity, with large parades held celebrating the spirits in several of the bigger towns and cities.

And then finally, Halloween came. The day was incredibly slow, with barely any passengers at all riding with the railway. Pip and Emma wondered if it was worth pulling their train at all – at least, until they set out on their last express of the day. It was packed.

“Why are there so many?!” exclaimed Emma. “We’re going to be barely able to hold them all!” “It’s everyone heading to the mainland to avoid Sauin night,” James said, puffing in. “You’ll be hard pressed with this many – I think it’s cause there was a fog warning put out earlier; no one wants to be caught out past dusk with that in place. Spirits and fog? No thank you!”

James steamed away to shunt his coaches into their siding, while Pip and Emma prepared to head off. It was a struggle setting off. Every single seat was filled, and a number of others stood in the corridors, making the trip extremely difficult. Even more piled on at Crovan’s Gate, where almost all the Skarloey engines had already been hidden away in their shed. Emma watched the slowly descending sun with worry.

“If we get held up on the mainland even once, we’re not going to be back for dusk,” she fretted. “We’ll be fine,” replied Pip. “Worst comes to worst, we’re a little late. ‘The Tidmouth Train to Hell’ isn’t a threat to us.”

Oh how wrong Pip was.

The big sheds at Tidmouth were filling to capacity rapidly. The usual crowd had filed in, as had Edward, BoCo, Thomas, Percy, Toby and Daisy. The sheds were so full that the tank engines had to share a road between two of them; Duck and Oliver on one line and Percy and Toby on another. The scripts had been painted on the doors, and the storm shutters rolled down on the windows. Daisy huffed grumpily, glaring out at the yards as thick fog and mist wafted in. “I hate having to spend the night here, it’s so bad for my swerves!” “Oh belt up!” groaned Thomas. “It’s better than being out there – no one wants to be out there.” “Speaking of out there, where are Pip and Emma?” asked Gordon. “Dusk is in half an hour, and they aren’t back.”

Edward, sat on the turntable, winced. “I heard they had a full train leaving Tidmouth. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been waylaid. Let’s just hope the stationmaster at Barrow parks them there for the night.”

Pip and Emma would have no such luck. The pair were late leaving London and Preston, filled up once again with people wanting to get home for the holiday – but the platform at Barrow was deserted. The fog had truly begun to set in, leaving long shadows where none should be.

“You can’t stay here,” the stationmaster said grumpily. The sun was beginning to sink over the horizon. “There’s no space, and you’re not a Northern engine anyway. Go back to Sodor.”

Pip and Emma both tried to argue – but it was no use. At least the lack of passengers meant they didn’t need to wait around. The pair roared out of Barrow, trying their best to claw back time from the setting sun. Dusk was coming fast: too fast. The fog was willing it on faster, thick cloud cover blocking out part of the sun and making it increasingly harder to see.

Vicarstown flew by, followed by Henry’s tunnel and then Crovan’s Gate. Clear signals guided them through each station, the two honking their horns loudly. It was almost as if they were heralding the dusk, trying their best to make it back home before night came. Dark figures watched their progress from deep in the shadows, hiding where neither twin could really see them. “Faster Pip, faster!” called Emma. “I’m giving it all I can!” called back Pip.

Finally, Tidmouth came into view, one door still rolled up for them. Pip and Emma were quick to back through it, the door slamming down behind them just as the last rays of the sun vanished over the horizon, leaving behind only the fog.

“Cutting it close there,” said Gordon darkly. Both Pip and Emma winced. “We were held up on the mainland… a lot. And then the stationmaster at Barrow wouldn’t let us stay there.”

Gordon huffed. “Stupid man – he’s got no sense. Why, the other day!—”

He was cut off by James shushing him. The two shot glares at each other, before allowing Edward to pick up his story again.

The old engine wove stories throughout the next few hours, telling tales of twisted grins and haunting ghouls heralded by owls, of spirits sent to help and those sent to destroy. The engines relaxed, enjoying the night even as the hours ticked on. Pip and Emma could have fooled themselves into thinking it was just another horrible storm trapping all the engines in the shed.

That is, until a most horrific sound pierced through the air, shattering Edward’s story and leaving all the engines deathly silent. The clock showed a minute to midnight. The sound came again, a ghastly howling and screeching and moaning that seemed to work its way into the engines’ frames and bury itself there, leaving them all shaking. The doors and windows began to rattle and shake, as if hundreds of people were banging on them, trying to pry them open.

“Out after dusk!” they howled. “They were out after dusk!” Pip and Emma began to shake, terrified.

Another ear-piercing whistle filled the air, made of even more tortured howling and screeching. Then came the screams. As the engine thundered towards Tidmouth, each beat of its cylinders sounded like the screams of the damned. The entire shed seemed to shake, as the horrific banging and rattling continued.

“Out after dusk! Out after dusk! They belong to us! They belong to us!” Pip and Emma quivered, petrified. The other engines looked equally terrified – all except Edward. As the cacophony reached a peak, he took a deep breath.

“You are not welcome inside. We are protected. This shed has been blessed; these engines have been blessed. You are not welcome inside!”  

“ONE HAS NOT!” boomed the creatures outside. Pip gasped – she had refused the blessing!

The engine grew nearer; time seemed to slow. Edward took a level breath, and spoke again.

“You are not welcome inside. We are protected. This shed has been blessed; these engines have been blessed. You are not welcome inside!”  

“ONE HAS NOT!” came the furious reply. Before Edward could speak again, there was a horrendous roar and scream of whistles, brakes and steam – the Tidmouth Train to Hell had arrived. It roared past, it’s red lamps illuminating against the doors. The shed walls groaned, as if nearly at braking point. The windows rattled harder, dents being made it the metal. Daisy shrieked and fainted.

Thomas began praying under his breath in one language; the twins did the same in a different one. The train sped into the station, thundering towards the buffers. One dent slammed against the glass of the window next to Pip, cracking the glass. A gnarled nail pierced through the shutter.

“You are not welcome inside. We are protected. This shed has been blessed; these engines have been blessed. You are not welcome inside!”  Edward thundered again, his eyes darting over to the shutter.

The train hit the buffers.

The creatures outside let out a chorus of tortured screams. They were in agony, ripping away from the sheds and howling in pain. The nail was torn from the shutter, giving Pip just enough space to see dark figures writhing on the ground.

The clock ticked over; a new day began. The creatures let out one last screech. The floor seemed to open up around them, hellflames licking up at the night fog and illuminating the entire night in a sea of blood red. The creatures screaming and screeched, dragged downwards and suffocated in the earth before they could be scorched alive by the flames.

And then there was silence.

“Oh…” managed Pip softly.

Everyone looked shaken. Edward sighed softly, and looked over at the twins. “The last time an engine was out after dusk and wasn’t blessed was in 1916, during the war,” he said quietly. “Thomas mightn’t remember it – but I do. It was a loaned engine who told us all that Sauin was stupid… that is, until the creatures of hell surrounded the sheds and began demanding we give him over. Glynn kept trying to keep them out, but he slipped up. The engine’s shed door was ripped open suddenly, and he was… dragged out. We never say what pulled him out – but whatever it was bent that door open like it was a tin can and shoved it back down afterwards. We all heard the loaned engine’s screams as it was given to the creatures and torn piece from piece…”

Edward paused, and gazed at the shed doors, looking wary.

“It’s said that engine became the Tidmouth Train to Hell, crossing the island and giving the spirits and creatures time to roam free before arriving in Tidmouth and condemning them all back to hell, to make sure none can inflict that fate on another.”

He finished his story and looked around the silent room. Daisy was still unconscious, and it was a miracle none of the others had followed. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the dent shutter and cracked window, a stark warning of how close the creatures got.

No one slept that night.

And suffice to say, Pip and Emma were never late again on Sauin.

Back to the Master Post

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

The knife in the dark

Azriel's week: Day 3

Hosted by: @azrielappreciationweek

Word count: 700+

You woke up chained to the wall in some dark room that smelled like mold, urine, blood and fear. When your eyes got used to the dim light you could finally take a look around. Your stomach churned. You were in the dark dungeon. Panicking you pulled on shackles with all your strength, but not only they didn't move, the commotion drew attention of your kidnappers.

"Look who's up," one grinned. Together with his companion they stepped closer, malicious sneers on their faces. It was immediately clear to you that you wouldn't like what was to come. You wanted to move away from them, but shackles held you in place.

The other male grabbed your neck and squeezed. "Do you know why you are in this shit?" You shook your head while you were fighting for air. "You can thank your damn spymaster. If he hadn't interfered with our plans, none of this would happen to you," he barked. Now when they stood so close, you could recognise the uniforms of Autumn Court's guards. Whatever Azriel did, it really pissed them off.

"Our lord was angry, so angry," the first one said. "And when he gets angry, somebody dies."

"Now it's your turn," other one growled and they started to kick you and beat you with their big fists. You cried in pain, praying to Mother to stop it. When they finished with you, you hanged there on the edge of unconsciousness, bleeding from nose, mouth and numerous cuts, unable to breathe properly.

"How about we have fun with her before we finish her," one of them said.

"That's good idea," the other grunted. Their hands began to tear your clothes. If you could you would scream, plead, fight them, but you could only cry silently.

You were almost naked when you noticed a flash of a blade behind their backs. Soon after Azriel's face emerged from the darkness. He looked so furious and deadly that he could easily be mistaken for a god of vengeance, a fearsome angel of death. He was ready to kill and he did.

Armed only with his Truth-Teller and silent as night he launched on the males and finished them before they realised what's happening.

Two growing pools of blood wetted your feet. Relieved the horror was over, you swung on shackles, your consciousness slowly started to slip away.

"Hey," Azriel said softly. He cleaned his knife and put it away. Then he quickly untied you and lifted you up, clenching you to his broad chest. "Y/N, hey. Stay with me. Do you hear me?"

" 'hurts," you groaned.

"I know, sweetheart, I know and I'm so sorry," he sounded really hurt and worried. If the most calm and balanced person you knew, became so worried, your injuries had to be more severe than you thought. "Just hold on a little longer for me. Will you?"

You groaned again. Feeling your mind again slipping away, you tried to focus on the closest thing - his face, especially those beautiful hazel eyes with gold flecks that watched you worriedly.

Azriel gently placed a kiss to your hair and covering both of you in the shadows, he set out on his way out. Only then did you see the trigger. There were rivers of blood and death bodies everywhere along your way.

But you couldn't care less. He came to save you. He came for you. These words became your mantra, it helped you to stay clam. In his arms you felt safe.

You squinted against the bright daylight. He got you out of the dungeons without anybody noticing and raising alarm. The entire time his scarred hands held you firmly against his muscular chest heaving with effort.

You were listening to his strong and regular heartbeats, the sound like lullaby to your ears. The smell of cedar and mist was filling your nose. (Did he always smell so nice?) It was so soothing, it felt so right. You were still in great pain, but right now it all felt too distant to even think about it. And your heavy eyelids began to drop.

"Y/N, stay with me," he reminded you alarmed. And you did, locking eyes on his bouncing Adam's apple and tightened jaw, his high cheeks, full lips and lovely nose. (Was he always so handsome?) In that moment you would do anything for him.

As soon as it was possible, Azriel winnowed you to the medical hall in Velaris.

[thelaurenshippen]

hi!! i just finished relistening to tbs (something about autumn always brings up the urge for me) but it had been a while since i did it last. its pretty crazy, because i was caleb and adams age when i first listened, and the pacing of things meant i was right with them still when the college tapes came out live. now im closer to sam’s age (and i think, your age when you were making it?), which did definitely make me feel a little crazy when i realized while listening. i guess i just wanted to say how much i appreciate the story and characters that have been along with me for the last, um, 7 and a half years, give or take? i still feel so much love and connection to the story, and relistening now has had me connecting with it in different ways than i did the first time but always super meaningfully and its so nice to come back to it from time to time. thanks for all of it and for all the amazing stuff you put out into the world still, i always love keeping up with it through here and everything!

ahhhhhhh oh my god I love messages like this because they warm my heart but also make me go "oh my god wHAT" because it is truly bonkers wild to me that there are people out there who started listening when they were teens and are now, like, fully in the work force. but it has been out for nine years! which just doesn't make any sense to me!

anyway, it's really so special that you started listening when you were the same age as the youngest character and now you're the age I was when I started it! (sam just turned 25 in the first season, I was 24 when the first season came out)

it also means the world that you relisten! I love that these characters mean something to you, even now, and I hope they continue to mean something to you for many years to come!!! the fact that you're relating to the story in a different way now is SO cool and such an honor.

and thank you so so much for keeping up with me here - I have so many more stories to tell and I always hope that people who found me through TBS will want to hear my new stories too!

thanks so much for being on this journey with me for the last 7 and a half years <3

[aphroditeslover11]

I’ll just be hanging around the mistletoe, hoping to be kissed

Jonathon Crane x Reader

Sorry, this took me a while and it's pretty out of character but it was fun to write. I usually write in second person but did this for a change. It's based on another 'Love Actually' quote as well, because why not?!

Requests are still open so please ask. I do a lot of music related stuff, so the Christmas season is manic but the bulk of my work is over now, so I should be able to get back to writing now!

Love you all, thanks for reading and please interact! 💜

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, talk of divorce, age gap, cheesy fluff

There had always been something about Jonathon Crane. He was my dad’s best friend, a psychopharmacologist that worked closely with him. When I was younger he had been my first port of call whenever I needed advice, I had stayed with him when my parents were going through a messy divorce and he had always been a shoulder to cry on. When he realised the true extent of my problems he had offered me counselling and when I refused because I didn’t want my parents to find out he had offered it to me for free. There was very little left about me that I didn’t know. In turn, he had told me a lot about himself - the abuse he had suffered at the hands of his father and stories about the time that he spent working at the asylum. 

Everything changed when the divorce was over though. I went to lie with my mum full time and never saw him anymore, I texted him a lot to start with but my need to communicate diminished the longer we were apart. Then I hit the age of 18 and finished my exams, passing with flying colours and choosing to go and study at university. I turned 19 the autumn that I moved away and everything finally felt as if it was in the past. My parents were no longer as big a part of my life as they once had been, therefore neither was Jonathon.

It was the first December since I had left my mum’s house, I had decided that I was going to spend Christmas with my dad - just a quiet one the pair of after I hadn’t seen him for so long. I had left halls earlier in the month and returned home. I didn’t have a job here or anything so I had to spend the lead-up to Christmas in the house on my own whilst my dad was still working. It was three days before Christmas and I had gone out to do the massive food shop that always comes with the season, I was just unpacking the bags when there was a knock on the door. I thought it was probably somebody delivering a parcel, but was happily surprised when I opened it to find Crane. From the look on his face he was feeling the same.

“Jonathon, my god, I haven’t seen you in years. How are you?” I moved to allow him to come inside.

“I’m not too bad, how about you? My god you look so different now.” It was then that I spotted a gash on the side of his face, grooving across his perfect cheekbone.

“What happened, are you alright?” He looked bemused for a moment before reaching a hand to his face, there was blood still on it when he took it away.

“Oh, that… It was one of the patients at Arkham, had a break when I was in a room along with him. I’m fine, honestly.”

“At least let me get you something to patch it up with. You’re bleeding.” He looked a little awkward, only agreeing when he realised that I was worried about him. He probably hated the idea of upsetting me after everything we had discussed over the weekend.

A few minutes later I had found him a plaster, putting the kettle on for a cup of tea and sitting down at the kitchen table to catch up. He was interested in my studies, very apologetic about the divorce and assured you that if I needed anything whilst I was in town he was just a call away. I found out that he had moved up in the world, now the psychology lead at Arkham and lecturing part time at the university as well. He had left not too long later, but only after I had asked him to come over on Christmas Eve for dinner. It would be like old time, spending an evening with him and my Dad, probably watching die hard and laughing at them when they drank a glass too many of scotch. 

~

Christmas Eve arrived, and with it came a small disaster. My dad had been called away for work urgently and was going to be away over Christmas, meaning that I was left to spend it alone. The dinner had been cancelled and with it all of my company for the festive season. I wasn’t planning on celebrating now, moping around and making a ready meal before settling down to watch ‘The Holiday’ with a glass of wine. I had just made myself comfortable when there was a knock on the door. “For fuck’s sake,” I thought, “I just want to get this bloody depressing evening over with.”

I answered the door, with a scowl, only to find my spurned dinner guest behind it.

“Jonathon, I thought I told you that Dad was away over Christmas, I cancelled dinner and everything.”

“I got your message. I was going to be alone for Christmas Eve as well, so I figured that we could be alone together, or something like that. Don’t worry about dinner, I’ve booked a place. I want this evening to be easy for you, just relax, God knows that you deserve after the last few years.” 

It was then that I realised he was wearing a suit - a nicely tailored navy blue rather than the somewhat stuffy ones that he wore for work. In his hand was a bouquet of flowers, which he seemed to have forgotten.

“Jon, you brought me flowers?” He thrust them forwards then. “White roses, my…”

“…Your favourite.” He awkwardly interrupted, finishing my sentence. I gestured him inside, going to put the flowers in a vase.

“I’ll go and get ready then, make yourself at home and I’ll be as fast as I can.”

~

Half an hour later I was down the stair in a black dress and heels, hair haphazardly pinned up in a tumble of curls and makeup done. Jonathon emerged from the lounge, taking his coat off the peg and getting ready to go.

“Shall we then, the restaurant isn’t far so I thought we could walk.”

He was right, it wasn’t far at all and we were soon seated at a table. This place was more expensive than I was used to and we were half way through the main when I mentioned it.

“I’m not sure I can half this bill with you Jon, I’m a broke student.” He just chuckled good-naturedly in response.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s on me. It’s Christmas and I thought it would be a nice treat for both of us.”

“You sure?”

“I’m positive, since the new job I’ve been making a little more than I can spend on myself without feeling guilty.”

“How’s it going? Do you enjoy working at Arkham? And you lecture as well, right?” He hesitated before responding.

“I like my work at the asylum, it’s fascinating and there is such a rich body of patients to observe. Lecturing I don’t like quite so much, my students are a pain, none of them actually seem interested in the subject. If an assignment is handed in on time it’s a novelty for me. How are you finding university?”

“I can’t say I’m loving it, I haven’t made many friends really and the lecturers are a bit dull. I just wish that there was someone there I knew, that I could talk to.”

“Give it a bit more time, but if things aren’t working out you could always transfer to Gotham. It’s not the safest place in the world, or cheap, but the university is good. I can put a word in if you like, you can even stay with me for a while, give you a chance to get on your feet.”

“That’s really kind of you Jon, I’ll definitely think about it.”

At the end of the evening Jonathon paid as he had promised, refusing to even let me see the bill. When we stood from our seats he held out his coat to me, helping me to slip my arms through the too-long sleeves.

“Here, you’ll need it more than me.”

“Are you sure you won’t be cold.”

“I’ll be fine.” He proffered an arm to me as well, which he didn’t on the way there. He could tell I wasn’t used to this sort of treatment, but he had become more instinctually protective as the evening went on and couldn’t help himself.

“You’ve had a few glasses of wine, I want to make sure that you’re steady. Can’t have you falling on the way back.” I slipped my hand through the crook of his left elbow, automatically bringing me closer to his warm body. 

“You know, you are so much more grown up than when I last met you. You were a girl when you left and came back a well-rounded, compassionate woman. You should be proud of yourself for how you’ve turned out.”

“Well, you haven’t changed at all Dr Crane. Always were and still are wonderful to me.”

The little exchanged stopped shortly after that and we carried on the walk in comfortable silence. A small amount of snow had started to dust the ground, starting to visibly settle just as we reached the front door.  I stopped to retrieve the key out of my bag and fumbled with the lock before Jon put his hand on mine, stopping me. He looked up, signalling me to do the same. Above us a single sprig of mistletoe was hung on the doorframe.

“It would be a shame to waste the opportunity, don’t you think?”

“Are you sure? I mean, it isn’t that I don’t want to, but you’re my dad’s best friend. Are you sure it isn’t wrong?”

“Well, I want to kiss you and you want to be kissed, what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing I suppose.”

“Well then, I’ll just be hanging around the mistletoe, hoping to be kissed.”

With that I reached up to him, bringing my lips to his in a passionate yet gentle kiss as he engulfed me in his arms. At that moment I could tell that, despite what I had originally thought, this was going to be a truly magical Christmas.

[mabelstone]

Love Language

matt stone x reader

part three of handsome stranger <3

masterlist ✧˖°.

word count: 1.5k

cw: incredibly cheesy, gushy, sweet, slow sex... dare i say love making

note: if you've read/watched me before you, i keep imagining the female character in this with Lou's sort of charisma and fashion sense, minus the bright outward colours. like, very gentle and happy, lots of layers. just very cute.

***

You'd spent most of your evenings with Matt throughout Autumn. It was approaching mid November and there were certainly no shortcomings in the affection department. You'd come to learn his love language was words of affirmation and acts of service. He'd learned yours was physical touch.

He'd often show up with flowers or little treats he'd picked up on his way home from work. Once, he bought you a portable heater when you were struggling to acclimate to the very different Autumn than you were used to.

"It's fall," he'd correct you, kissing your forehead while you rolled your eyes.

This time you'd shown up to his place bundled up with a white fluffy scarf he'd picked out for you. It just made me think of you, he'd simply shrugged it off after you'd thanked him a hundred times. You wore a fluffy coat over a collared burgundy dress with white hearts printed over it, with black stockings underneath, something you'd grown accustomed to wearing everyday in the cold weather of New York. When you arrived, two coffees were waiting on the counter. He'd never drink his until you were there.

"Hey, pretty girl," he'd beam at you when you walked in, leaning against the balcony rails with a cigarette burning between his fingers. You stumbled out toward him, being engulfed in his warm embrace within seconds. The cigarette smoke didn't bother you anymore. It'd become almost a comfort, the smell sometimes lingering on your clothes, a welcomed remnant of the nights you shared.

After weeks of spending your time together, you still hadn't slept with him. It wasn't as if you weren't sexually attracted to him; by God, you were. You were just enjoying taking it slow for once. With Matt, time felt infinite, yet as if it were slipping through your fingers like sand. You were so enamoured by one another that you just wanted to consume each other, fusing each and every atom to his, merging into one synonymous being.

He was the whole package. Externally, sure, he was nothing short of breathtaking. Painfully handsome, tall, captivating. But him. The Matthew you'd grown so familiar with; expressive, gentle, warm, every nice word you could use to describe one's nature. He understood you. He was funny, tentative, and honestly treated you better than anyone ever had. Your dating history, with the douche bags in Australia, was... less than admirable.

"How'd your meeting go?" You smiled sweetly over your shared cups of coffee, your hands thawing around the hot mug and occasionally, between his hands.

"Good, meant my day finished early." He released your hand, stepping up from the couch to open the fridge. "So I had time to make you something." He grinned over at you, beckoning you over with the tilt of his head.

You giggled to yourself but followed after regardless. "Is that?-"

"Golden syrup dumplings," he mimicked your accent terribly, his smile just as wide as yours. "You said you missed your mom and she'd always make them for you so... a little bit of your home in my home."

You beamed before him, cheeks beginning to hurt from your unwavering smile. "You..." You leaned up to kiss him, grin impossibly growing against his lips. All you could do was shake your head incredulously, looking up at him with crows feet crinkling beside your eyes. "No one's ever been so thoughtful." Truthfully, you could've cried from just how sweet he was, but of course, you couldn't be too soft in front of him.

"It's just food," he brushed it off as he usually did, as if this were the most normal thing to do for someone. "Well, go on. Try it."

"It's usually served hot, but I'll let it slide," you joked, taking a spoonful into your mouth.

"So? The verdict?" He watched you intently, his eyes sparkling like a little kid in a lolly shop. "Good as mom's?"

You groaned exaggeratedly, grabbing him by the face.

"Better than mum's," you kissed him again, sighing into him. His arms snaked around you autonomously, your own draping around the back of his neck. He pulled you in closer, your fronts flush against one another. His hands travelled to your hips as he deepened the kiss, yours travelling the expanse of his neck and shoulders. "Bedroom?" You requested softly against his lips, Matt nodding before kissing you once more, taking your hand in his, leading you to his bed.

He sat down, pulling you to straddle his lap, peppering kisses along your neck and collarbones. You purred in his lap, craning your neck to give him better access. Your cheeks heated as you felt him harden against you, that welcome warmth glowing inside your stomach.

"Beautiful," he murmured against your skin, nimble fingers effortlessly unzipping the back of your dress. You stood with his hands in yours, allowing the soft cotton to slip off your shoulders, left to pool around your ankles. He stood too, allowing you to help him strip his shirt off. Your hands roamed his chest, his skin the most inviting warmth to your freezing digits. You helped him slip of his pants, too, both of you standing in your underwear.

To be fair, this was quite unusual for you. A newly introduced intimacy of soft touch and whispered praises. Nothing you'd ever experienced, yet it was the most comfortable you'd ever felt in a sexual manner. Few words were shared, yet there seemed to be a perfectly coherent conversation unfolding between you both that couldn't be translated into a spoken language.

This time you climbed into bed, pulling him on top of you. He was swift with connecting his lips to your skin again, clearly wanting as much of you as he could get. The feeling was unmistakably mutual. You leaned forward slightly, unclipping your bra before slipping it onto the floor. He marvelled over the sight before him, taking all of you in. You guided a hand of his to cup your breast, feeling your nipple harden under his touch. He palmed it with one, the other holding his weight above you. You snaked a gentle hand down to palm him through his briefs, your thread of patience thinning by the second. "Please," your voice was barely above a whisper, the dim light from the kitchen leaking into the room, bathing his body in an ethereal glow.

He nodded, kissing you tenderly before reaching into his bedside dresser and pulling out a bottle of lube. You helped one another discard your underwear, for the first time, no layer of clothing obstructing the feel of the others skin.

How could you gently tell him the lube wouldn't be necessary? One swipe of his finger across your heat delivered the message for you. He almost whimpered softly, watching the way your eyebrows furrowed slightly and your lashes swept across your cheekbones, eyes fluttering opening periodically to meet his gaze as he gently gathered your slick on his fingers.

His eyes met yours once more, a flash of uncertainty, soon extinguished by your smile and nod of approval.

Slowly, he slid himself in, inch by heavenly inch, lacing one of his hands with your own. He let out a deep, drawn out groan, a beautiful harmonisation with the mewl he pulled from you. Your stomach tightened instantaneously, those beautiful butterflies swarming in your lower abdomen as shocks of electricity pulsed through your nerve endings.

Soft breaths exchanged as he slid in and out effortlessly, your hands cradling his beautiful jaw. With each thrust, a gentle hum of appraisal slipping into the shared air between you; the most angelic sounds either of you had ever heard.

This was different than anything you'd ever shared with someone. Tender, premeditated movements, solely focused on making each other feel good. You kissed slow and gently, lips moving in perfect synchronicity.

"You're perfect," he breathed, lips ghosting along your collarbones as he continued to sink himself deeper into you.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you seemingly gained consciousness for the first time in your existence. The feel of his warm, soft skin of his unclothed body against yours, his soft lips brushing yours periodically; barely exchanging words beside his gentle praises and your pretty whimpers and breaths. You were completely aware of your every nerve ending, feeling all of his length delve in and out of your heat, filling you more than perfectly.

"Matt," your words were delicate as they lingered in the space between your mouths, soon buried beneath soft pants as the coil of pleasure within both of your cores began unwinding. You breathed him in, every sense of yours heightening.

He delivered his final slow but deep strokes, losing himself too as you pulsated around him, waves of euphoric pleasure pummelling you in his embrace. You both came down from your highs together, foreheads touching, fingers intertwined.

He gently pulled out, laying beside you, pulling you against his chest. You listened to his slowly steadying heartbeat, a nonchalant calmness you often felt in his presence dispersing through your bloodstream.

"Was this all just a ploy to get me into bed with you?" You lifted your head to face him, an amused grin playing on both of your flushed lips.

"No... but I think now I have another reason to bake desserts for you."

[lunadeathbed]

★ Hi Again ★

Normally Not Normal

The long awaited part 2 of Hi Ren! FINALLY!!!! Sorry that it took so long to actually get it out but I didn't forget about it!

Link to part 1 of Normally Not Normal ↓

RED : Ren's thoughts

PINK : Ren

PURPLE : Moth

BLUE: MC

★ Hi Again ★

You gathered a few blankets and pillows putting them down on your couch. It was currently about 7:30, Ren would be here soon. You decided it was probably a good time to get ready.

Walking into your room you go over to your wardrobe. Browsing youroptions you stumble upon a white “Friday the 13th” shirt you bought a while back after Moth sent you a eBay listing for it. They knew your tastes a little to well and of course you caved in and bought it. You paired the shirt with some black sweat pants and your regular jewelry. Last of all you pulled on a pair of fuzzy black socks, it was still pretty cold in autumn.

You spun around in front of the mirror that lazily leaned against the corner of your bedroom and take a look at yourself. Satisfied with your choices for the night you step away.

As if on cue your doorbell rang just as you walked out of your bedroom. Hurriedly you run to your front door and unlock it.

You come face to face with Ren's chest.

“Hey there Angel.”

Sometimes you forget how tall he is.

You also see the oversized Slasher hoodie he was wearing. It was a black “Halloween” hoodie with Michael Myers plastered on the front, pared with black cargo pants that had silver chains hanging of the belt loops. It was pretty different compared to his usual soft look. It looked nice you thought.

You crane your neck up to look Ren in the eyes blushing a little.

“Hi again, Ren.”

You felt a surge of something pulse through your body at the way Ren looked at you with a soft smile. You couldn't quite describe or put a label on it, but it was definitely a good feeling.

Ren's face grew reder and reder the ponder you looked at him.

So cute...

You realise you've been staring at Ren for at least a minute.

“-ah, sorry,” you look away.

God. He probably thought you were weird. You step away from the door to let him in.

“It's fine Angel, don't worry about it.”

“uh-You look nice.”

Ren started to fiddle with the end of his sleeve, moving to take of his shoes.

“You look nice too…”

At this point both of you were burning red just from the small exchange.

To brake the slightly awkward silence Ren lifts up the plastic shopping bag he held with a slight smile.

“I got you your cup noodles.”

“uh-Thanks, I-I'll take that,” taking the bag gently your fingers slightly brush against Ren's hand…

Their hands are soft...

Ren mumbles a bit breathing heavily at the contact with a blush overcoming his face while he takes his shoes of, although you don't notice.

Once he finishes you walk to the kitchen and put down the bag, Ren following closely behind like the big puppy he was.

Maybe that would be a new nickname for him? Puppy. It sounds fitting because Ren finds the need to follow your every move.

“m’ gonna take this stuff out.”

You start to take things out of the bag and place them on the counter.

“I hope you like what I got you.’’

He had already managed to find where you kept your bowls and place them on the counter. He fiddles a bit as you assess the food options.

Wow…

Looking over the selection Ren had struck gold, he bought all of your favourite snacks. Nearly everything down to a tee.

“How did you know that these were my favourite?” you asked, half jokingly raising one of your eyebrows.

You remembered Ren calling and asking about what he should get but you never actually said all that much just a few things.

“uh-well I saw you had some of these in the kitchen last time I was over and the rest I kinda just uh-guessed, and bought some of the stuff I like.” he tugged to his sleeves more.

Little do you know angel, I followed you around while you were at the shops and I took a peek at your recites...

Ren really had some luck or he was a telepath.

“Really?! You sure you haven't been reading my mind or something?”

Ren laughs softly.

“I wish Angel.”

“I would’ve done a lot more than see what your favourite snacks are,” he mumbles under his breath not realising you noticed.

I would have done a lot of things by now... A lot...

You shiver involuntary.

Not from the cold Autumn air seeping through your thin apartment walls, god.

Stupid landlord.

You need to actually file a lawsuit against that guy.

“Ah-”

Your train of thoughts stumbles as you hear you phone go of.

“ugh-What?” you mumble to yourself.

You pat around your pockets for you phone, you think you see a faint smirk on Ren's face for a second, but as soon as you see it it's gone.

. . .

Your phone goes of again.

“Hold on a sec.”

You finally manage to locate your phone and pull it out to see who was messaging you at such a random hour.

Moth...

Of course.

★★★★★

Heyyyy

Are we watching that new anime you talked about yesterday?

Hi Moth

Not today

Ren's over at my place right now

REN???????

YOU MEAN THE ONE FROM THE LIBRARY!?!?

yes.

that one

Don't stay up too late then, I won't keep you any longer 😉

Moth!

Ok, Ok, I'll leave you alone for now

Let me know how it goes!

★★★★★

You blush profusely at the small comment.

“uh, Sorry about that.”

“it's fine Angel.”

The both of you continue to move snacks from there packaging to bowls.

Ren randomly stopped and just sort of stood behind you.

“Are you ok-”

You're cut off by Ren's arms snake around your waist, he leans his face into your hair.

You smell so good angel... I could hold you like this forever... Truely...

You feel a blush rise to your cheeks.

“Ren?”

One of Ren's hands travels under your shirt and he traces his fingers against your bare skin.

Your blush furiously at his sudden act of affection.

“R-Ren?”

“hmm?”

“W-we should finish unpacking this stuff.”

Ren pouts a bit but eventually complies.

It was cute.

One you finish Ren helps you bring the food into your living room, after putting down the bowls you plop onto the couch.

“What movie should we start with?”

“How about we start with Friday The 13th? Seemed to be one of your favourites.” He says pointing down at your Friday The 13th shirt.

“Oh, yeah it is one of my favourite movies. We can start with that but we'll watch your favourite next.”

“So I'm assuming Halloween then?”

“Yep.”

You pick up the remote again and open Netflix, you play the movie and get settled in. You wrap yourself in a blanket and pass one over to Ren and he places it over his lap.

Both you and Ren chill for some time and point out your favourite parts of the movie to each other.

You don't notice at first but Ren slowly inches towards you every so often...

At some point Ren gets so close that your thighs are touching and he it trying to pretend to focus on the movie while his face is bright red and his breath hitched.

So close...

You yourself blush a bit.

“Is this ok?”

Ren looks over to you waiting for your confirmation looking a bit flustered. You nod slightly.

One of Ren's hands slowly moves from his lap and rests it on your thighs. Surprised with the sudden confidence you make a small sound and blush harder. You feel Ren draw stars with his thumb on your thigh.

You liked it.

It felt right.

You lean your head against Ren's shoulder and he stiffness a bit before relaxing again and leaning his head on top of yours.

So innocent...

You spend the rest of the night cuddling. Ren's arm around your waist, leaning against eachother.

The later it got the harder it became to keep your eyes open, eventually you let sleep take over and you shut your eyes snuggled closely within Ren's secure embrace. He smiles softly.

“Night Angel.”

The last thing you feel is Ren shuffling around and laying against the couch gently pulling you down with him. Never dose he let go of your waist, he keeps his arm firmly linked around you.

“Sweet dreams~”

Possibly there will be a part three or I'll abandon this but I'm calling the series Normally Not Normal ;)

The shirt I talk about the MC wearing is a genuine eBay listing my friend sent me, that's where I got the idea. Sadly I didn't buy it :(

+ Ren's Halloween hoodie

(⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠)

★ If you have any feedback or suggestions let me know! (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠) ★

[olenvasynyt]

Writing tag by @bonecarversbestie !

Describe your writing process from idea to posting/publishing?

I usually have a very simple concept to start with but I can pick it up pretty quickly and go from there. I start writing a chapter by doing a very quick blurb that summarizes what will happen: “Lucien is walking back to the forest house after a Winter trip.” Where is he walking? What are his emotions? I can write a pretty long summary and then write the actual chapter when I get inspired. I’ll end up separating the summary into sections and eventually I’ll have a draft! My issue is editing haha I despise editing because I overthink. But I have gotten better. This is fanfic, so usually I will finish up my draft and glue parts together, go over some words I think I repeated too much, and then I say fuck it and go!

Are you a plotter or a pantser?

DEFINITELY a plotter. I got a huge huge spreadsheet of my plot for A Court of Embers and Sunlight which includes keeping track of my words, having a little summary, who’s POV, what I need to add etc to each chapter.

What do you listen to when you are writing?

I got a playlist for my Court of Embers and Sunlight fic, but I mainly listen to this classical playlist.

What’s your drink of choice(while writing)?

I often write at my local coffee shop and I either get a honey comb latte (honey, cinnamon, vanilla with oat milk) or a cafe mocha. When I’m at home, I usually just have water.

Promote yourself! What’s your favorite thing you’ve written?

A Court of Embers and Sunlight will always have my heart! It’s a 2 year project with over 140,000 words! About Lucien’s life in the Autumn court with Jesminda and how they tragically ended. I also have LoA plots, and Eris plots! I’m proud of my worldbuilding and the emotional stories that I tell. It’s taking me forever to get out though 😭 I have SO MANY chapters and plots I want everyone to read!!

Share a fic of yours that you think is underrated/deserves more love.

The Tree Have Eyes! 3 chapter fic of Eris and little 8 year old Lucien going on a hunting trip!! It’s sweet and emo and fun and full of cool nature.

Do you have any advice for new writers?

I would say don’t think too much about other’s work. This is coming from someone who thinks A LOT, but a lot of people worry that their writer isn’t as good as someone else’s, or they aren’t getting a lot of kudos so it must be bad, etc. Don’t beat yourself up! It’s hard to stop comparing but this writing is for you, and there will ALWAYS be someone who loves to read your stuff. Also make friends with other writers! You get like minded people who can support you and help you out. I’m often a loner but I get so excited when I get friends sharing their work or talking about their work, talking about my work etc! It is very motivating.

What is a writing style/technique that others do really well that you'd like to get better at?

Oh god, dialogue…this is me thinking too much but I never feel very confident in when writing dialogue. So many people write it so naturally and it’s always the first thing they start when drafting! I can start with dialogue but I always enjoy prose and descriptions more.

Is there a character you were surprised you enjoyed writing as much as you did?

Rhysand! He jumped on me when I was first drafting ACOEAS and he was very very fun. Difficult sometimes (because I am not as hot or clever as Rhys lmao) but still very fun.

Thank you for tagging me @yaralulu @sad-scarred-sassy and thank you for starting this @bonecarversbestie ! I feel like most of my writing friends already did this haha.

But no pressure tags: @sadiegirl2021 @ennawrite @jules-writes-stories @clockwork-ashes @highlordofkrypton

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

Today, on 11th February, 1975 - Queen Story!

Toledo, OH, USA, Student Union Auditorium

'Sheer Heart Hattack Tour'

Extract:

"Freddie chuckled at the memory as he sipped tea from a ceremonial bowl. He was clad in a dazzling kimono, and sat crossed legged on the floor of his abode, decorated with Samurai swords and hand-made parasols, just down the road from Shepherd's Bush.

Rather like the Victorian explorers, he had brought home the lifestyle and artifacts of a foreign culture, and seemed anxious not to lose the magic of a country that had obviously made a considerable impression.

"I loved it there, the life style, the art...I'd go back tomorrow if I could," insisted Freddie shooing his cats Tom and Gerry off a Led Zeppelin album that had been carelessly left exposed.

How has it been these last few months? Freddie seemed just slightly enervated, not quite the garrulous showman I first met on a dark night in Liverpool, on their British tour last Autumn.

"It's been...fun. When we finished the English tour we went to Europe. We came back at Christmas and then went to America, which was quite a bash Two months.

"That's when I came a cropper.

I had voice trouble, these horrible nodules began to form on my vocal cords.

"I went to see specialists in England and America, and they were talking about an operation, but fortunately they seem to have gone down now and it won't be necessary.

Thank God.

In America they were talking about giving me laser beam treatment. They just singe them off, but they still don't know about the after effects, which could be dangerous.

"I had experienced trouble before, and always thought it was just a sore throat.But in America it really started hurting, especially after we did six shows in four nights."

..........

"How long had this been going on in Japan?

"Well, 'Queen II' was the LP of the year, and since then it just built up. We were given so many beautiful presents, dolls, lanterns, and they're so into rock music."

...........

"Freddie in jest, to avoid questions about their next album, which was not yet in the works: "Did I ever tell you about the time a girl pushed a dog into my arms while I was singing on stage in Toledo?"...

[dairyminki]

elle congrats on 300!!

i'm thinkin about cooler weather at the moment; could i give you autumn with mingi for a prompt? tysm and congrats again!! <33

✨️part of my 300 milestone event 🪄

title: pumpkin spice and everything nice

pairing: song mingi x gn!reader

genre: slice of life, coffeeshop au

warning/s: none

wc: 888

a/n: hello orion!! ♡ tysm for requesting ahhhh i rlly enjoyed writing this one esp the descriptions. i hope this one is to your liking tho ><

* reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated!

—

The sky is quite gloomy as you saunter through the wet asphalt road. A mix of yellow, orange, red, and brown leaves are scattered all over, the previous downpour having them glued to the pavement.

You got quite lucky that the rain stopped when you got out of work, or else you've been stranded at your workplace with nothing but the smell of leather and the sight of your almost robotic-like coworkers surrounding you.

It's a good thing you're out of that hellhole now, and approaching a quaint coffee shop, instead.

The bell by the door jingles as you push it open, the warm and nutty aroma of coffee and sweet caramel welcomes you, beckoning you towards the counter where the barista stood donning a brown apron over his head, his hair, a striking yellow and orange ombre.

The shop was bare, and you're betting, with all of the pennies currently in your pocket, that it had been this way since earlier today and the barista himself wasn't expecting any customers anymore to suddenly pop up.

You, being that unexpected customer, offer him a small smile as you proceed towards the counter.

"Hi! May I please have one pumpkin spice latte?" You state after carefully reading through their menu.

"Anything else?"

"No, that would be all, actually."

The barista merely nods in reply, and as he starts punching buttons on the register, you can't help but stare at him. Now that you think about it, his overall fit including his hair color actually resembles the colors of autumn. A giggle slips out of your mouth all of a sudden, making the barista give you a look.

Fortunately, he doesn't comment on it and just simply hands you the receipt, saying that he'll have your drink ready in a few. And so, you went to pick your seat by the shop's glass windows.

The sky is looking a lot gloomier than before, you take note. Although, not long after you've sat down, the rain came.

The sound of the barista's movements and the whirring of the blender and espresso machine accompanies your view of the falling rain and the dropping leaves from one tree branch to another.

The scene of the colorful leaves gradually forming a carpet on the road seemingly occupied you to a great extent that it took you a while to notice someone clearing their throat.

"Uhm, excuse me?" The barista, who was now standing by your table, says, finally earning your attention.

"I've been trying to get your attention for a few minutes now but you seemed to be engrossed with whatever's outside," He says while he puts your pumpkin spice latte on the table. Embarrassed, you mutter an apology.

"Thanks. It looks pretty, by the way," You tell him with a smile after admiring the aesthetically pleasing drink in front of you.

"Thank you, please enjoy," The barista says, mirroring your smile and then off he goes back to the counter.

—

"Hi, I don't want to bother you but-"

"Oh my god, have I overstayed?" You panic, glancing at your wristwatch and finding out it's already been over an hour since you've sat down in this coffee shop, your drink perfectly empty. "I can leave now, I'm sorry. You probably have to close up already, right?"

It's not like you didn't plan to leave after finishing your drink. It's just that the rain is still pouring hard, you didn't get to bring your umbrella with you, and your house is quite far from here. You're not sure if you're ready to go out and battle it out with the ongoing wetness outside.

"Oh, no, no! I can't let you leave in this weather," The barista had the same panic lacing his voice and he's quick enough to make you take your seat once again.

"And, uh, I actually came here to ask if you'd fancy a few slices of this apple galette…" The barista rubs at his nape, giving you a sheepish smile.

For a minute you look taken aback, and just when you were about to say something, he speaks yet again, exclaiming, "This is on the house, by the way!"

"Wow, that's so…sweet of you."

"Nothing biggie, really. Just figured you'd want something to accompany you since your drink's already finished and I don't think this rain's about to stop any sooner, so," He shrugs, placing the galette in front of you. An aromatic mixture of cinnamon and baked apples wafts through the air, and it awfully smells like home, fall, and everything warm.

"What's your name?" You ask just when the barista makes an attempt to retreat into his spot at the counter.

"My name is Mingi," He answers, pausing for a little bit before he asks you the same question, quite politely.

"I'm Y/N, and if you don't mind, would you like to accompany me, Mingi? We could share these pastries while we talk or something," You say, already standing up to pull up a chair for him, because you're not one who takes no for an answer.

"Well," Mingi drags out the word while he looks down at his feet, one foot lightly tapping against the floor. "Alright, I guess there's no harm in doing that." He gives in finally, taking the additional chair from you.

"Good choice."