#lighting a candle for the dead

[a-romantics-guide-to-life]

⋆˙⟡☽ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ☾⟡˙⋆

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: billy the kid x fem reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: lighting a candle for your fallen loved ones

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: death and mourning, angst, major death, title is from la llorona song (i changed it a bit), based on day of the dead traditions (aka lighting a candle for dead ones; usually at their graves)

𝐚/𝐧: just a very lil short thing abt day of the dead and lighting a candle for loved ones. didn't go too in depth into the tradition but yea its just very short (how uncanny of me) but also HAPPY BIRTHDAY @phantomamor!!! idk if this can be considered a birthday gift but here you go lovely! love you!

The light danced in the cool November air, the orangey flame spirited as it danced against the wind.

“Do you still think about her Billy?” You turn to the man sitting next to you, your arms entangled within the cover of the deep blue blanket covering the two of you.

“‘Course I do. Ma, Jo, sometimes I try to remember my Pa’s face but,” he shoots a look out to the vast night sky above you. He just scoffs, tears welling up in his ocean eyes.

“I just can’t remember the man, y’know? And it makes me sad because he's my Pa, despite him jus’ giving up on me.”

You bring your hand up to Billys cheek, turning his face to yours. You bring his forehead to yours, “Billy, that’s fine. Truth is that he’s been gone a long time and it’s natural that you won’t remember him.”

“I feel bad though.”

You shake your head, astonished at the hard headedness of the man sitting next to you.

“Would you feel bad if I forgot your face?”

He grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead before dipping his head to be level with yours. 

“No way.” You shoot him a look of disbelief, opening your mouth to voice indignation but he presses his lips to yours silencing your complaints.

“Pretty darlin’, I only say that ‘cause ain’t no way I’d let ya forget my ugly mug.”

You laugh at the audacity of the man, standing up and stretching as you fix the flowers around his Ma and little brother’s grave, noting how the candle has run out.

He stands next to you, his glossy eyes eyeing his family’s grave.

“D’ya think I could have a minute alone with Ma ‘n Jo?”

“Of course Billy.” You smile, hugging him gently before gathering all your stuff that you brang.

You walk to the entrance of the graveyard, watching Billy crouch down next to his family’s grave. The dark night sky covers him as he starts to tell them all about this girl that he met, telling how in love he is with her, begging them to wait for him and his girl.

The candle lights your face, as you lay your back against the headstone you take a swig of the bottle of tequila that lay in your lap.

“Y’know, I used t’ think ya were crazy talkin’ to the dead n stuff.”

You sniffle, tears flowing down your cheeks as you look up to the sky, the same color as Billys eyes.

“But now I get it Billy,” your eye trace over his engraved name, ‘William H Bonney’.

“I really do miss ya darlin’, so so so much but I promise,” you sniffle, wiping your eyes, looking up to the night sky that you and Billy once shared.

“I’ll never forget you.”

[innocent-writers-soul]

Tate Langdon x Fem!Reader (smut)

summary: you pass by the room where the noises come from and decide to look in to see what is happening there and a strange picture opens in front of you;

warnings: male masturbation, dirty talk, cumming, voyeurism, exhibitionism (?), mention of blood and aggression; not proofread (i apologize if i forgot smth)

word count: 839

You look at Tate and think he's cheeky. He is out of control; he has no brakes or they work too late. And sometimes you can predict what will happen in the end, but there are moments, the consequences of which even for you remain a mystery, for example, like now. You look through the gap in the door and see Tate lying back down on the floor, blood dripping from his nose, he does not stop smiling and laughing maliciously, not even defending himself from attacks. His T-shirt is pulled up, revealing snow-white skin and a slightly embossed body, and you fleetingly understand that you are more similar to him than you could imagine. The only difference is that dark feelings have been born in the depths of your soul and almost always remained there, while Tate has a lot on display — he is not ashamed of himself most of the time, not ashamed of his gloomy and vulgar side. And it even fascinated you to some extent. Delighted, but sometimes frightened, because it was rarely possible to understand what was in his head. And considering the fact that you were still not particularly close and familiar with him, the atmosphere around him was still dangerous, but, nonetheless, exciting.

You quickly look at Patrick, who is standing at a distance from the door, half a turn, with his back to you for the most part, but in such a way that you can watch him clenching his fists in fury, his face twists in aggression, but then he completely freezes with mixed emotions in his eyes. You don't understand what's wrong, but when you return to Tate, your breath hitches.

“Admit it, you haven’t felt such a strong dick for a long time while imprisoned in a house with Chad,” the guy unzippes his fly and begins to stroke himself through the fabric, deliberately sobbing and sighing loudly, “but I have something that might interest you…” Long fingers take out an impressive arousal, the veins on which are already beginning to show — it is difficult to match the childish face of Tate with it — and move up and down at an increasing pace; lube collects under his moving palm, the sounds of squelching spread in the room where there is no furniture yet, and his ragged breathing is the second thing that echoes along the walls. A bright, lively, playful and mischievous smile does not stop leaving his face, his tongue constantly licks dry and cracked lips, he jerks off, looking into Patrick's eyes, but your heart stops beating completely at the moment when he looks at you outside the door, strengthening grip on the length, narrowing his eyes. “And maybe not only you,” he tosses his hips up in reverse motion, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead and rolling down his temple, blood continues to drip onto his T-shirt, but he doesn't care much. However, as well as you and Patrick. You forcefully squeeze the wood at hand, incomprehensible feelings arise inside you, you panic, the phrase “YOU ARE DISCOVERED” lights up in large red letters in your head, while Tate approaches his peak, biting lower lip, closing eyes a little in bliss, arching, but keeping an eye on you. You can’t tear yourself away from the view, it’s too captivating and beautiful, you think that your hand would look good on Tate’s place, but you quickly turn these thoughts away, feeling the uncontrollable atmosphere and your own arousal. You clenches your legs, feeling a throb between them, a tingling warmth beginning to spread in your lower abdomen, and you can’t help but continue to watch and tremble from overwhelming feelings. Your other hand reaches down to calm your admiration at least a little, but when you see that Tate notices this, tilting his head to the side a little, still watching with interest, you fast move it away. This is new for you, because you have never felt anything like this before, especially since you have not peeped at a jerking guy, but everything happens for the first time. Tate meanwhile comes to his senses, his curly tangled hair in even more disarray than usual, he sighs languidly, licking the cum from his palm revealingly, slowly putting two fingers into his mouth, not taking his eyes off you and still grinning.

You let out a barely audible breath, legs do not obey you, but you harshly go away, unable to endure the scene in front of you, of Tate himself, heading to your room at a fast speed, forgetting your (un)secret hiding place and hearing that Patrick has apparently recovered from his daze, beating Tate again. Your face is burning and reddening more and more every second, hands are freezing, heart is beating so fast and you cannot calm it down. You still have no idea what will come out of this situation, but something inside tells that Tate will come to you tonight, not letting you forget what you saw during the day.

a/n: english is not my first language but i tried my best, as always. before that i had been writing in my own for many years and now decided to improve english. in a very interesting direction, i need to say. hope you enjoyed! :)

[hermesmoly]

Thinking sad Helen and Iphigenia thoughts atm

[waty-art]

The Book of Life!

I Watched this movie for the first time in my life and I saw some amazing fanart of Manolo as La Muerte. Of course I had to do one too😂.

I regret missing this movie when I was a kid.

[angeart]

ghost scar wanted to play around. with spooks and tricks 'n treats and pumpkins and knives. and grian indulged him for a while. but then, by the end of the day, grian found a quiet corner. and did what he wanted to do.

which is to light a candle and remember the dead.

[lilyofthevalleyys]

hc that barty is like seriously addicted to candles. any kind of candles. especially the ones that have weird smells. he’ll light them up when doing basically anything. and they’re everywhere. the coffee table, the bedroom, the bathroom etc. there’s a shelf that’s chock full of candles.

(and evan being a supportive boyfriend (he totally doesn’t enjoy seeing barty in the light of the candle))

[the-silentnight]

Rest in peace, Elder Faerie Cookie. Thank you for the best 4-6 weeks since the update.

You’ll be missed greatly. 😞💧

[simplydnp]

🕯🕯🕯 easter baking video 🕯🕯🕯

i am lighting my candles before i go to sleep

[winds-of-roses]

▷A Cameron, Dead but not gone (webtoon) stimboard for myself!

Requests are? Open!

🕯️💙🪦

💙🕳️💙

🪦💙🕯️

[lonesomedotmp3]

unfortunately I have to admit that charles dickens really did something with a christmas carol. darkness was cheap and scrooge liked it. he was a squeezing wrenching grasping scraping clutching covetous old sinner. he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, old scrooge. hard and sharp as flint. solitary as an oyster. girl those are some ADJECTIVES! some METAPHORS! described the hell out of that mf!!

[elibeeline]

the candle work payed off, i received every possible warning to not come into work today and i did anyway and was faced with a missing kid who likely had a knife!!! and had to be left alone with him to serve the other customers while the manager stayed on the phone!!!!!

[xxxemilyg1996]

Convinced my dad is chilling in my house for Dìa de Los Muertos because I've been hyperfixated on a history channel show called How The Earth Was Made for 2 days now. Homeboy used his ghost powers to get me to watch his nerd shit

[hellolitten]

lol shut the fuck up, this is the funniest thing they've ever done

[morp]

Yk what. Theres a unique kind of struggle w paranoid people living together

[free--ends]

[tricornonthecob]

"I love working by candlelight" she says, a single 3-wick scented candle to her right, awash in the bright, blue-light glow of two twenty-seven inch monitors.