#their cider was so o o o good

[cozyspice]

🍎🎃🍂

[bunnyb34r]

My beloved nerds rope hasth betrayed me 😭

You were supposed to help my stomachache (dextrose) but you cursed me to more stomachache! Shame! Shame to the Nerds for 1000 years!

[chrrychills]

we both like apple cider .

main six « sleepover w/ their s/o!

ashlyn banner:

•sleepover's probably at her house, it's more convenient that way. plus you can hangout in the bus graveyard!

•will make dinner and appreciates if you sit in the kitchen and talk to her.

•reluctantly allows you to do face masks on her– the only condition is that you're not allowed to take pictures. (you did anyway.)

•is ready for bed around 10 pm. She wants the two of you to get at least a little bit of rest before the shift at midnight.

•has a hard time falling asleep after the phantom realm, so the two of you probably stay up until 2-3 am talking.

•will cuddle for max 10 minutes, then she gets too hot or uncomfortable and moves away. she'll still be holding you hand or touching you in some way, though!

•overall very tame sleepover, just appreciates your presence.

aiden clark:

•you're not sleeping. at all. he will make it his mission to keep you up all night.

•will not be making dinner, he can't cook for shit. the two of you end up just ordering pizza instead of making the effort to cook.

•the two of you will most likely leave the house for some reason or another– wether that be snacks or something else.

•he's super cuddly when he's tired, so he'll practically cling to you when he's ready to sleep. usually doesn't rest before the shift, but tries to when he's with you because he doesn't want you to be tired in the phantom realm.

•either can't sleep or knocks out after the seven hours is up. if he's exhausted enough to sleep, it'll be the best sleep of your lives.

•will gladly allow you to do face masks, makeup, etc. he thinks it's fun, and likes seeing you happy.

•absolutely painting your face if you let him. if you don't, there's a good chance he does it while you sleep.

•overall, very chaotic. there's a 90% chance you'll wake up with face paint the next morning.

ben clark:

•either conks out at like 9:30 pm or stays up until dawn.

•you two will definitely be cooking/baking. he's an amazing baker, so whatever you make will taste amazing. (aiden's gonna come downstairs and eat like half of it in the middle of the night.)

•a big cuddler. even when he's sleeping, he has an iron grip on you. it comforts him, knowing that you're there with him.

•will spoon if you want but it isn't his favorite.

•matching pj pants. probably like black and grey plaid ones or something like that.

•usually starts winding down around 9 pm. he'll sit in bed and draw for half an hour or so, preferably with you cuddled up next to him.

•probably has a loud fan or white noise to sleep, but will absolutely turn it off if you ask.

•usually can't sleep after the phantom realm, but knocks out if you cuddle with him.

•very calm sleepover, he just wants to spend time with you. 10/10, sweetheart.

tyler hernandez:

•uses the time to pamper you, in his own subtle way. he'll make you dinner and spend most of the night attached to your side.

•super cuddly when he's tired, but will vehemently deny it if you bring it up after the fact.

•will force to you sleep or at least rest before the shift.

•loves cuddling. he relaxes immediately as soon as his arms are wrapped around you and your legs are tangled with his.

•falls asleep pretty quick. as soon as he allows himself to relax, he's out like a light.

•half expects your to just wear his clothes to bed. he's shocked (and slightly offended) when you bring your own clothes. it doesn't matter, since you usually end up in one of his hoodies or shirts anyways.

•goes to bed around 10:30-11:00. he's usually the one cleaning up dinner or something like that, so he doesn't usually wind down until 10.

•sleeps in a pitch black room with no noise. any stimulation will make it practically impossible for him to sleep.

•really calm. just wants to spend time with you, 10/10.

taylor hernandez:

•is so excited. she loves being around you, so being able to end her day with you bring her joy.

•movie night! you guys spend a bit too long picking a movie, and you both end up falling asleep about halfway through.

•a huge cuddler. she usually holds a stuffed animal when she sleeps, but now that you're here she can hold you instead!

•loves spooning– especially when she's little spoon. having your arms around her calms her down almost immediately.

•she says she wants to cook, but will probably get distracted and forget. you two will either end up eating tyler's cooking or ordering takeout at like 11:30.

•tries to get a good amount of sleep before the shift, so she tries to go to bed around 9:45-10:00. depending on how the day had been, you two either fall asleep super early or don't fall asleep at all.

•so exhausted after the shift and will fall asleep immediately.

•she tends to get night terrors, but she can calm herself down pretty quickly. when you're there, they either don't happen at all or are very rare.

•will most likely go on a rant about her club or a new project she had started. she usually doesn't realize she's rambling, and you don't have the heart to tell her.

logan fields:

•is super nervous and fidgety at first, but starts to relax and just focus on you the longer you're there.

•literally can't cook. at all. should not be allowed in a kitchen alone under any circumstances. he lets you cook dinner if you want to, but assures you that it's fine if you'd rather order takeout.

•sleeps pretty early, around 9:30. he really wants you two to rest before the shift so that you aren't tired and sluggish.

•he has a hard time falling back asleep after the shift, so he keeps a bottle of melatonin gummies in his cabinet and will offer you one if you need it.

•a light sleeper. if you move or pull away while you two are cuddling, he'll feel it and wake up immediately.

•you two probably won't leave the house, except to sit on the roof and stargaze. he spends more time admiring you than the sky and really hopes you don't notice.

•kinda nervous when it comes to cuddling. he probably has a tremor or something along those lines, so his hands are pretty much always shaky.

lacey's notes: hi!! i'm so sorry i haven't updated like i said i would. i'm finally home after my vacation, so i should be able to start updating more.

i wanted to get this out since it's been in my drafts for weeks. i want to thank everyone for the requests, and i'll start working on them shortly!

[cursedcupcakemaster]

This is a small series I made for nothing but enjoyment

Notes:I don't own twisted wonderland or it's characters

this is just my interpretation of how they'd be they belong to Yana Toboso and Disney,

Reader is gender neutral, some of these are kind of short, it's implied that MC isn't neccesarily Yuu but Crowley asks them for shit he should do himself

Warnings:depression implication

Type;Spider Cider

How Skully J. Graves comforts his partner after a bad day

It all started on the week before the favorite holiday you both loved

You had quite the misfortune from being rained on without an umbrella trying to get to your dorm

When you got there you had to spend a good few minutes knocking trying to get someone to open up

Then there were the pop quizzes, but you hardly had any time to study at all when Crowley needed favor after favor from you

But the worst came when you were working on your costume and a fight broke out in the dorm . By the time it was over your costume the one you had worked so hard to make was in tatters.

After that you decided to lock yourself in your room and your friends knew there was only one person that could coax you ought from your self imposed isolation and that was Skully

Skully dashed for your room when your friends told him about your situation

It breaks his heart when he hears your sobs on the other side of the door

Skully would come in after you let him in before asking you what happened

When he heard your woes his heart broke even more but what really upset him was when you said you didn't think you could celebrate Halloween together thjs year

Skully was having none of it, he took your hand,kissed it and promised you that he would make sure you'd be able to enjoy your favorite holiday again

He looked at your costume and got an idea dragging you out of bed he got out your sewing supplies along with some patchwork cloth and sewing your costume back together

Once he was done he had the perfect costume for you, it resembled the one the pumpkin queen herself wore

Now you had the perfect couples costume and the fact Skully knew what to do touched your heart before you embraced him

Once Halloween came you both were able to spook some folks, get some good candy, carve the best Jack o Lanterns on the block in a lovely spooky display, danced under the moon light and shared a kiss under its mischievous glow

Skully will always make time to cheer you up, he didn't need to tell you this not when when his actions spoke for themselves, that's how much he loves you

[th0ti-th0ts]

just desserts

hobie brown x reader, miguel o’hara x reader (implied)

summary: leave it to the big guy to be so damn obvious. if only it wasn't this fun for hobie to mess with him.

or: hobie exploits miguel’s one weakness for some shits and giggles (but also to stick it to The Man).

cw: fluff but hobie makes some innuendos. jealous!miguel, miguel who can't admit his feelings, hobie who knows this and knows he has more game and takes full advantage of this

You’re talking to Hobie when his attention is captured by something behind you. His gaze shifts as he raises a brow challengingly, mouth pulled into a cocky slant. It’s quick, quick enough that most people wouldn’t catch it, but you’re not most people. Not with your reflexes.

“—And I was—Hobie? Something wrong?”

You’ve got his attention again. “Yeah, luv? Sorry ‘bout that, got somethin’ in my eye.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder, and gives you a lazy grin. "Distracted me fro' your beauty for a minute."

You roll your eyes as you continue to tell your tale, Hobie listening to you with the kind of careless intensity that only he could pull off. While his flirtatious comments could be construed as something more, he says them with such a dry wit that it's hardly anything more than friendly. As the the two of you meander down the line of the cafeteria, grabbing whatever food spikes your interest, his arm remains a steady presence around you. Again, you don’t think much of it—Hobie's a touchy guy with his closest friends.

“Ya’ ever wonder 'ow these futuristic blokes come up wit’ some o’ these pop flavors?" he asks you, holding a can of soda in his hand as he languid reads off the label. "‘Sparkling orange cream cider with a 'int of lime...'" He pulls a face. "Sounds mad.”

You laugh. “It’s actually kinda good. Peter recommended it to me last time.”

He looks at you, surprised. “Huh." And then, with a hint of suspicion, he asks, "...Which Peter? Ya' can't trust all ov' their taste buds...”

With his arm around you, Hobie steers the two of you around the cafeteria, and you end up accidentally bumping into the person next to you in line. The two of you continue to chat--that is, until you hear someone clear their throat meaningfully. You glance behind you, unaware of the challenging glean in Hobie's cool gaze.

"Oh, hi, Miguel! I don't think I've ever seen you out here before."

He raises a brow. In his hand is a box of the empanadas he loves so much.

"I do... eat, you know."

Miguel's usual dry and blunt manner of speaking has hardly deterred you before.

"Yeah, but I don't think you really leave that dinky, dark room of yours," you say thoughtfully, to which Hobie snorts next to you. His body shakes with the effort to contain his amusement. Your eyes widen. "I—I didn't mean it like that!"

"I know what you mean," Miguel cuts you off. He jabs the empanada before him with tongs, puncturing its shell. His irritation is palpable. Maybe he's having a bad day? "I..." He sighs heavily, surveying the two of you, his gaze lingering on your shoulder. "Just felt like a change of scenery."

"Or at least I did," he mutters, but you don't quite catch it.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing."

"'Ey, 'ey. Look wha' we got 'ere." Hobie, the ever keen observer, steers you around Miguel, to direct your attention to today's dessert on the menu. Your eyes widen at the various flavors of cupcakes before you. You fucking love cupcakes.

"Lemme guess," Hobie says. "You're a chocolate kinda gal?" He snags a cupcake for each of you. Just as he hands it to you though, you're distracted by the sound of tongs clattering.

You glance to your right, only for Hobie to end up smearing some of the cupcake's icing across your cheek. You blink in surprise.

"Hey!"

"Oops." An amused smirk stretches Hobie's face. “Made a mess o' yourself, looks like it."

"You're the one who did it!"

Hobie puts his palms up, stating solemnly, "All's wort' it in pursuit of something sweet."

You glower at him, rubbing your cheek. "Did I get it?"

He shakes his head. "Nope." You rub again. "A lit'le to the left. Nope… Is a bit like finding a needle in a 'aystack for you, innit? Lemme help.”

Hobie’s thumb comes up to your cheek, swiping the suspect away. You scrunch your nose up, to which he makes a satisfied noise in his throat.

"Almos' regret doin' that. Ya' pull off the 'cream on ya' face' look."

You roll your eyes at the obvious innuendo, smacking his chest. “Hobie. Not in public!”

He shrugs unapologetically.

CRCKK.

The sound of cardboard crumpling meets your ears. The both of you turn around.

“Ay, chingados,” Miguel curses at his crushed box, meat and veggie filling from his empanadas splayed across the ground. He kicks the box away, before slamming his hand onto the counter. Hunched over, a hand tensely massaging his brow as he mutters, “Maldito sea. Estoy harto de ver esta mierda amorosa."

You raise a brow. You think you hear Hobie mutter something to the effect of, "Stickin' it to the big guy one step a' a time," and you're certainly not sure what that means. Miguel stops only when he notices you and everyone in the cafeteria watching him. He straightens up, and clears his throat before summoning his AI.

“Lyla, just have someone bring food to my room,” he grumbles.

"Roger that," she says.

And then Miguel is stalking away before either of you know it.

You watch his retreating back curiously. "I wonder what that was about..." you think aloud.

“No idea,” Hobie drawls. Of course, it's a lie, or as Hobie likes to think of it, a covert truth. He salutes in Miguel's direction.

Leave it to the big guy to be so damn obvious. If only it wasn't this fun to mess with him. And... Hobie glances down at you. If only you realized how much power you held over him.

Both of them, really.

—

translations:

estoy harto de ver esta mierda amorosa = i'm sick of seeing all this lovey-dovey shit

the other phrases are just a bunch of cursing lmao

[fairestwriting]

I saw and loved your piece about an S/O that's like a heater. What about the absolute opposite? I'm always kinda cold. Would love to be warmed up by Jack :) thank you ever so much!

Ace Trappola

Knowing how easily you get cold, Ace is ready to be a little bastard and put his cold hands on your neck first chance he gets. What he didn't know, though, was that even your neck already felt like an icicle in this weather, maybe even colder than his hands?

Despite his occasional little bastard-ing about it, he thinks it's sort of endearing. He tries to play it cool most of the time, to be the suave boyfriend who lends you his jacket when you're cold. This fails pretty miserably because he starts freezing his ass off, but you can tell he cares.

You can get your revenge for his little prank (which he will repeat, because even if it doesn't startle you a lot, it still startles you) by making he experience how chilly you feel whenever you cuddle up to him. He'll get startled and complain about it all dramatic, but you can sense that he feels sort of proud that he's warming you up now.

Deuce Spade

Takes every opportunity to fuss over you, gets all worried if he doesn't see you wearing a jacket. Like Ace, he'll lend you his without hesitation, except he manages to be "cooler" about it since he doesn't get cold as easily. He's still all worried about you, though.

He's easily flustered by touch no matter the circumstance, but he's also dead set on keeping you warm. Initiates hugs a lot more, the possible excuse of "not wanting you to catch a cold" makes him a little bolder. It's hard for anyone to pry you off each other.

He probably has things like scarves and sweaters his mother knitted for him that don't fit anymore, and if they fit you, he's downright overjoyed to hand them over. Some of them look a little silly in the way that homemade knit clothing usually does, but it's kind of impossible to refuse him. He loves them, and he loves seeing you on them.

Jack Howl

Yeah, he is the ideal boyfriend for this scenario. Having lived in a cold place for most of his life, he does know a lot about how to stay warm!

...Which means, he knows when he doesn't have to be cuddling you for you not to freeze, but one time or another, he'll use it as an excuse to stay glued to you for a bit, saying it's the best you can do now to stave off the cold. He blushes while he mumbles out his very clear lie.

Even harder to pry him off you than it is with Deuce. Whether it's summer or winter. You know, he is way warmer than a human, so when it's hot, it's his turn to cool down on you. It's the perfect excuse to get all that PDA he's usually too shy to go for.

Epel Felmier

Out of the three who would try to play the "cool boyfriend giving you his jacket when you're cold" trope, Epel is the one who actually pulls it off perfectly. He does get worried, of course, but he's not nearly as fussy as Deuce, and he's pretty tolerant to cold. Maybe a little too much. You two will be an interesting sight during winter, when he's walking around wearing a scarf and gloves at most, and you're all bundled up.

If you like hot apple cider, or apple pie, or anything warm that involves apples, you're getting an endless supply of it. Some from leftovers he gets after visiting his family on werkends, and some made by his own hand.

(He's a little embarrassed to admit he made them, though, because while they're good, aesthetics really aren't his forte. But he's trying his best.)

Sebek Zigvolt

Still runs considerably colder than you, but it still spooks him. You're not fae cold, sure, but still? Is that really normal for a human? He expects answers.

Winter is... not very kind to either of you, needless to say. It's not that he gets cold in the traditional way, but it does a number on his energy. Even then, he'll still spare some to scold you if he thinks you're underdressed.

...Sometimes Sebek exaggerates a little. It's honestly just because he doesn't know a lot about how warmth works for the human body. But giving you a second pair of earmuffs when you already have one on is still one of his ways of showing that he cares about you.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

[iicarused]

Hey Queen 🤭 thanks for the absolute fuckin' heart attack this morning of tagging me alongside some of my favorite hazbin writers-

Anyways have my Striker brain rot;

- mans got that western charm, calling his s/o poppet, dame, doll, darling.

- enjoys the intimacy of a night in at a campsite or a lodge as opposed to 'going out on the town'

- Striker only drinks the good shit. Top shelf whiskey like Dalmore or Glenmorangie.

- he likes sarsaparilla, as well as apple cider (but won't drink it up public usually, considers it a 'weak' drink)

- I've got the headcanon that because he's an imp mutt (mixed with a shark demon) he got the sharks eyesight which is absolutely shit, but the imp side gave him snake like vision? Sees heat and cold better then anything.

- it does mean however that Striker knows when you're cold as shit and like the gentleman he is, plops his jacket on your shoulders without a word.

- love languages of acts of service and physical touch(?!?)

- his tail would wrap subconsciously around your waist in crowded areas so he has the assurance you haven't been lost in the sea of imps.

- hey hey you know the cowboy hat rule. That.

- basically if you wear a guys akubra (my aussie is showing) or cowboy hat, the saying is 'if you wear the cowboy hat you have to ride the cowboy'

- its the law trust me,don't look it up. No but really its like a known thing in that community I find it so funny

- anyways I'm stealing his hat, have a good day bestie <3

- Kotte

save a horse, am i right

all of these are so true, it’s exactly how i see him eso as a striker muse😭 i love him

i feel like he wouldn’t ask you to be his s/o upfront, especially if he genuinely cares about you and doesn’t want you wrapped up in the lifestyle he lives. ON THE OTHER HAAAND, if you both work in a similar field — he may let that slide

placing his hat on the top of your head whenever at a downtown bar. his tail hooking around your waist and pulling you against his chest, offering a hand towards the poor imp that tried flirting you up by the pool table.

“‘m striker — couldn’t help but notice you sweet talkin’ with my sugar from ‘cross the room — i didn’t appreciate that all that much.”

smooth talker, it’s just embedded into him!! the most poetic man you will ever meet, more so than a specific radio demon you’re acquaintance’s with. beautiful cursive writing because he doesn’t want a certain voxtek to know who the assassin is speaking to, so he writes to you instead.

all of his letters start with “my dear.” “my sweetheart.” “my pumpkin.” a tad territorial and needing to emphasize that whenever he can!!

brings you all types of flowers, gifts, or does anything for you.

i love striker so much

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Fall Yandere Prompts

Fuck Me I put prompts on the other thing at didn't actually put prompts, I suck anyways here are a few prompts made by yours truly. Others are free to use them just please tag me. Thanks. I'll make more Halloween ones if people like these.

Apple Cider: A sweet yet tangy that leaves a warm feeling. Your eyelids start drooping after drinking every drop.

Bonfire: Dry sticks and leaves are so easy to burn in high bright flames. Be wary of what the light attracts.

Crows: Inky black birds with a glimmer of intelligence in their eyes. You feel a dozen pairs of eyes watching your every move.

Dry Leaves: Crunchy and brown and always fun to mess around in. You hear a second set of feet slowly trotting behind you.

End: Autumn signifies the end of Summer and a change in season. It also signified the end of your freedom.

Flannel: The warmth of this fall apparel is so comforting in the crisp weather. Don't you like it, they picked out just for you.

Grain: Bountiful and golden, shaking in the cool breeze. You meet a friendly stranger standing in the grain field, holding a scythe.

Harvest: Fall provides us with a bountiful harvest of corn, pumpkins, apples, pears, and grain. Such bounty requires a sacrifice to be made.

Indoors: Why go outside when you can snuggle under the covers and keep warm? Just because it's your home doesn't mean you are safe.

Jack-O-Lanterns: Grinning gourds light up the night, carving them is a fun activity. They want to participate but got a little too creative.

Kettle: Boiling water for a hot beverage on the stove is so nice. The water isn't quite done but you still hear whistling.

Leaf: Colorful trees make such wonderful leaves they look good pressed in a book. You see one on your bed side every day, they have a distinct metallic scent.

Mushrooms: Clustered together they're a fungi to be around. More seem to grow near you each day in strange patterns.

Nutmeg: Fall spices are aromatic and make every dish warm with flavor. If your running low the next-door neighbor might have some, might as well come inside while they look for what you need.

Orchard: Fruit trees tended to with tender care, baring crimson fruit. Picking just one won't hurt.

Pie: Steaming goodness wrapped in a golden shell. Have another slice there's plenty to go around.

Quiet: Many an autumn night is filled with sweet and calming silence. It feels a little too quiet tonight, might want to retire early.

Reaping: How to harvest the crops grown, you reap the rewards of the Earth. Someone has come to take you or your soul, they're not very picky.

Spider: Dainty legs weave beautiful webs, enticing as they are dangerous. Any prey they catch, they won't let go.

Tree: Majestic and tall these ancient plants reach up to the dwindling sun with aching branches. Haven't you seen that tree before, you must be hopelessly lost, perhaps that's better than being found.

Umbrella: The cold weather makes rain extra chilling; with a warm smile you share your umbrella. No good deed goes unpunished, as the storm outside isn't what you should be worried about.

Vermillion: Beautiful shade of red found plentifully in the fall, its beautiful yet it can be a dangerous color too.

Wind: Rattling trees and blowing the leaves to the ground, the wind tickles your ears and nips at your nose. It carries with it the unhinged words of a person you never want to see again.

Xenial: Being most hospitable is a must during autumn. This does not change when a stranger shows up at your front door requesting shelter.

Yarn: Soft threads of vibrant colors used to create warm clothes, blankets, and other things. The string prevents you from moving while someone knits in the corner, eyes focused on you.

Zipper: Better zip up when it's so chilly outside, wouldn't want to catch a cold. You also might want to zip it before they hear you.

[lotties-ashwagandha]

YELLOWJACKETS & HALLOWEEN (headcanons)

i did headcanons like this last year but i don’t know where they went so im making them again! this is for adult yellowjackets and is sfw. i did not take writing these seriously.

SHAUNA

horror movie queen. halloween is the one night of the year where she can let out her inner freak without getting judged for it and she takes full advantage

she wants to watch slasher movies. she wants to binge watch scream and halloween and also weird supernatural horror and then she wants to have in-depth discussions about what the two of you thought was good and bad and meaningful and not meaningful afterwards

i think halloween for her was very different when callie was little though, she obviously couldn’t spend the night with a six year old having a scream marathon. i can see her really loving the halloween nights when she would take callie around trick or treating and handing out candy, it was something pure and fun to celebrate every year and it was refreshing to her.

now listen to me though. i feel like she would be anti pumpkin spice fight me on it but she would say it tastes like chemicals. she won't be going near it.

LOTTIE

“carving this pumpkin will heal my inner child spiritually” she says the day before halloween and then she cuts her hand, gets pissed, and her night is ruined

but listen. i know this woman pulls out all her orange, black, purple type caftans in the fall. she WILL be color coordinating with the seasons like pinterest’s number one freak

decorating for halloween with her would be such an intricate practice too, you obviously wouldn’t do it on halloween but going and getting some new decor for the house every year and discussing the aesthetics and what theme you want around the wellness center for fall and halloween would be so much fun

dare i say pumpkin spice latte queen? except she can’t handle leaving hippie wellness center so she learns to make everything at home and she builds a starbucks equivalent in your kitchen

in general I think she would try to stay away from horror films or anything like that on halloween, she's especially not watching any supernatural horror because it fucks with her now after all of the things she’s seen that were “supernatural” in the wilderness but she would love more stereotypical cute halloween movies like hocus pocus or even practical magic. you have themed movie dates and drinks and watch them together. 😋

TAISSA

she doesn't hand out candy she hands out dirt and sits in her favorite tree

just kidding i guess

i think she would love halloween though in general, especially celebrating it with her son. when he was really little she definitely had matching costumes or at least costumes that went together with sammy, like how families will dress up as the incredibles with their kids or as the addams family

she would do something with her political campaign when it comes to halloween, too. i don't know what it would be, maybe some weird costume contest online or idfk but she goes halloween crazy and every part of her life is going to be involved in it

she's also the queen of pumpkin carving because she would get so intense about it. no one can bother her during pumpkin carving or they're getting their ass lit up like a jack-o-lantern candle

like shauna, she is on the anti pumpkin spice team.

VAN

van thrives during halloween season. put her in front of the television with some old horror films and you wont hear from her for a month

she loves going to pumpkin patches and corn mazes too. she's probably who got taissa into carving pumpkins. she would love those giant pumpkin patches and farms where you can go apple picking and pet goats and shit. her profile picture on every social media platform is an awkward selfie of her feeding a goat

van is also an apple cider fiend in my opinion, and those funky apple cider and pumpkin donuts

like lottie she is on the pro pumpkin spice team, she loves it.

NATALIE

young natalie would have loved halloween, but i feel like adult timeline natalie would be relatively over it unless she had a partner that really loved halloween. if you can get her back into the vibe she'll be so into it, but she probably wouldn't do much if just living alone

if she's handing out candy she's going to try to scare as many children as possible. it becomes a mission that only the bravest children will leave with candy after trick or treating at her place. she'll jump out at them with masks or have some of those animatronic decorations that scream at people in the yard once the motion censors are triggered.

she has a bomb as fuck fall playlist too but it's not spooky scary skeletons and that shit it's old rock music

she's relatively neutral when it comes to pumpkin spice, not particularly passionate about it either way.

MISTY

if there is any holiday that screams misty quigley, it's halloween

oh she has so much fun

she will find a way to get a costume custom made for caligula each year and then she'll post pictures of him in all of the bird-related reddit communities she's in.

she hyperfixates on the history of halloween and will info dump to you about it

also loves scaring children but loves scaring adults even more

might try to break into your house at night as a halloween prank because she doesn't know how far is too far

pro pumpkin spice.

[bettyfrommars]

headlessHorseman!eddie x Reader

Welcome back to The Nightmare Factory

masterlist

18+ONLY

I had a request from @thiswaytoinfinity for a Headless Horseman version of Eddie, and this is what happened. Reader is AFAB and this chapter includes a surprise guest. Much love. wc: 3.3k

This is part of a collection of blurbs and short fics about Eddie only being able to communicate with you through your nightmares. It can be enjoyed as a standalone, but there is a story being woven through each chapter. Chapters with smut will be marked nsfw, but most of these are just pure silliness and yearning.

"None shall escape the horseman's sight! On your guard, the time is nigh! The Headless Horseman darkens the sky! No matter the realm, it's all the same; I will sear you all with burning flame!"

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You’d been marked by the Headless Horseman.

That much was obvious by the carved jack-o-lantern with a lit candle inside that appeared on your doorstep on that morning, the first of October.

A group of kids from town snickered and pointed at you, knowing that your demise was near, but you held your head high.

You didn’t believe in the Headless Horseman.

It was a fairytale woven by firelight to frighten gullible fools and babies—and you were neither.

You were a teacher now, and a good one at that.  Your students did not hate you like they had the schoolmaster before.  They didn’t hate you to your face, anyway.

You attended the fall festival behind the church that Saturday night, and Jesiah Smith would not leave you alone.  He kept refilling your apple cider, which was nice, but you had no interest in him outside of friendship, and he didn’t seem able to take the hint.  

The guy was standing way too close to you, Eddie observed from the shadows.  

Eddie was patiently awaiting his scene in the dream as if he were an actor waiting for curtain call, but now the extras in your nightmare were getting on his nerves.  It was impossible for Eddie to get to be in all of your nightmares, but he took the opportunities when they came.  

Thank god he could tell you were already getting bored with the people around you; even in dreams you preferred to avoid mundane chitchat.  He slipped back through the dark thicket of forest and mounted the black steed with ease—almost as if he’d paid attention in class this time. The horse with a long silky mane and red eyes exhaled hot air from its nostrils, and in the cold darkness, it looked like it was breathing smoke.

The wind picked up, scattering dead leaves, and you rubbed your arms to warm them up.  Above, the moon was so round and big, and it glowed a pale yellow—in the distance, a wolf howled.  You swore you heard noises from the forest over the sound of the fiddle that people were dancing to.  Horse hooves trotting, a crow cawing, and the low moan of the wind through tight fissures in the trees, singing like a warning.

Jesiah offered you his jacket, but you told him it was time to grab your shawl and go.  

He said he could walk you home, but you said no thank you.

He took hold of  your arm to pull you back, to keep you from moving away, and a horse neighed loudly from somewhere deep in the woods, making everyone’s heads whip around to look in that direction.

“I’m fine,” you assured, snaking your arm away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jesiah.”

There was a blip in time then, and suddenly you were in the middle of the forest, and all of the villagers from the festival were gone. 

 You were all alone.

The air felt cold and damp all at once.  Above you, the tops of the trees made a canopy way over your head like intertwined fingers that carved out a perfect slot for the mood between their knuckles.

You shivered again, but not from the cold this time.

You had no idea which direction to walk in order to get home.

An owl flew off of a branch near you and screeched as its big wings caught the air.

You turned on your heel, noticing a thin path that led into a denser part of the forest.  “That must be it,” you whispered to yourself, taking a few cautious steps in that direction.

Your legs felt like you were walking in quicksand; you kept moving, but were still in the same spot. 

There was a long silence filled with nothing but the chitter of crickets, the type of silence that pounded in your ears, and then you heard a branch snap nearby.  You tried to jump from the spot you were in, but your legs felt like jello.

It was then that you felt the hot, wet snorts of breath on the back of your neck.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the huge body of a horse with a man sitting atop it.

You went to step and tripped, falling to the ground as you actively scurried back and a scream caught in your throat, choking you, making you gasp for air.  

The man was dressed all in black with pale skin and long, curly dark hair.  A long coat, and riding boots that came almost to his knees.  The black horse he rode was one of the biggest you’d ever seen—-and there appeared to be actual fire flickering in its eyes.

You noticed a thick, jagged line like a railroad track around the man’s neck.

“Are…are you the Headless Horseman?” You stammered, feeling like your voice was coming from somewhere outside of your body.  

He cocked the head in question, his voice was deep.  “Do I look headless to you?”

“No,” you managed to whisper, licking your dry lips.  

Eddie’s heart was racing.

He felt like in every dream, the two of you had to start all over, but this time—-your eyes were soft as you gazed up at him.  Almost as if  you found him…familiar.

You watched from a tuft of dead leaves on the ground with your knees pulled to your chest as Eddie dismounted.  

He dropped the reins and took a few steps toward you.  “Listen,” the man cleared his throat.  “I’m supposed to chase you out to the meadow and scare you, but I don’t really want to.”

 “Why don’t you want to?” You stared at him blankly.

Eddie kicked something invisible with his boot, rolling his tongue between his lips. After a beat, he squinted and dipped his head, crossing his arms over his chest.  “You don’t remember me?”

This was starting to feel surreal.  Did you live in the town nearby, or was this a dream? This couldn’t be a dream—-he was standing right in front of you.  You could feel the air moving in your chest.  

You furrowed your brow and tried to think, but then shook your head, disappointed that you could not place him.

With dramatic flourish, the man threw his hands to his chest as if he’d been shot and fell to the ground, catching himself in a push-up position before rolling onto his back in front of you and flopping there.  Orange leaves fluttered against him like lifeless butterflies.

You snorted a confused laugh and looked on, amused, searching his dark eyes as he got on his side and propped his head up on his hand.

“Wait,” you bit your lip.  The memory of him was like a pinprick of light at the end of a long tunnel, but you reached out through your brain as hard as you could for it while Eddie held his breath.

You lowered your gaze to the ground for a second and then returned your attention to him, about to let something out of your mouth that didn’t make any sense.  “Something to do with a ferris wheel?”

Eddie sat up and clapped, giving a fist pump of excitement.  “Yes! Ferris wheel!” He got to his knees and craned his neck to get his head closer to you.  

He was so close to you now, it wouldn’t take much effort to lean forward and kiss him; you had this deep swell of confidence that the two of you had kissed before. 

His rich chocolate eyes were in quite a bit of contrast to his chalk white skin, and his plump lips were pale too; a tiny blush of pink against flesh that refused to warm.  His dark hair was almost black and it matched the thick stitches that clamped down over the gash that seemed to go all around his neck.  

Eddie released a heavy breath and took your hand.

“I want to tell you everything,” he said.

You squeezed his hand back, silently asking him to continue.

There, on a blanket of leaves, under the unblinking, watchful eye of the moon, Eddie told you that he was from another dimension, a place where they created nightmares for dreams.  After a moment of hesitation, while he broke a dry leaf apart with his fingers, he raised his gaze to yours tentatively and admitted that he’d developed a crush on you the first night he saw you.

Nothing about this seemed strange to you, in fact, he might as well have been telling you that he worked for Foot Locker at the mall and was asking you out for a soda.  All perfectly normal stuff.  

A gust of wind brushed back his hair, and a murder of crows took flight.

“It wasn’t just the way you looked; you know.  Even though you are beautiful, don’t get me wrong.  Very, very beautiful, but it was…” he drifted off, a smile breaking his laugh.  “...the little people you made out of potatoes that sat on your desk, and the heavily worn paperbacks by your bed, and the way you slept with every body part under the covers except for your feet.”

You dipped your head shyly, self-conscious that he’d seen you in such a vulnerable state—but you were not at all horrified like you would be if a guy in your world told you he’d been standing over your bed while you slept.  Your reaction was that of someone who was familiar with Eddie and not at all bothered by the information he was admitting.  

Things feel so different in dreams.

He hesitated, trying to get a read on your expression. “Is this too much? Am I saying too much?”

“I..” your thought trailed off as you looked around at the dark shadows that loomed in the clearing.  “Is this a dream? Am I dreaming right now?”

Eddie brought his knee up and circled his elbow around it. He had picked the leaf in his hand clean, down to the vein, and turned the delicate piece over in his fingers.  “This is all we have, for now,” he said softly.

In the distance, a dark rumble of laughter—a menacing cackle—broke the cricket song of nature’s silence and all the birds scattered.

You turned to Eddie with wide eyes.  “W-what was that?”

“Crap,” Eddie lowered his lids for a long breath.  “I can’t believe it’s time already.”

“Time? Time for what?” You mimicked his movements as he stood and dusted himself off.  

The evil laughter continued to bellow as horse hooves pounded in the distance.  Through a break in the trees, you could see something or someone thundering along on horseback.

“Quick, take my hand!” Eddie shouted to get your attention.  He was already up high on the horse, but the ice grip of fear made you freeze.  You caught his hand and stepped into the stirrup, swinging your leg over the saddle behind him at his instruction.  

“Wrap your arms around me and hold on tight,” he shouted over his shoulder as the horse took a few steps, bobbing its head, eager to get a move on.

You did as you were told, pinning your cheek to the tight back muscles that were flexing under his coat.  

Delilah, the horse, was fast and strong and she took off like a shot at Eddie’s command.  “Just don’t look back!” Eddie told you as the wind blew his hair back into your face; it smelled like honeysuckle and campfire.  

Eddie crouched down a bit as he spurred her on, and you kept your body glued to his, your tailbone hitting the back of the saddle.

Faster…faster….

Delilah bounded into the air to avoid a huge tree that had fallen, and you squeezed your eyes shut for what felt like forever until her hooves met the ground again and you were bouncing behind Eddie to the beat of her strides.  

That was when you made the mistake of looking behind you.

Not too far back and gaining at paranormal speed, was an actual headless man atop a mean-looking horse that was even bigger than Delilah.  He wore a long, dark cape that flew out behind him, and he was barreling down on the three of you with a knife in his hand; the blade was long and curved and the steel glinted in the moonlight.

You gulped, knowing instinctively that it was your head he wanted.

“He’s gaining on us!” You screamed into the wind.

“I told you not to look back!” Eddie responded just as Deliah caught air over a fence and landed in a wide open meadow.

“Who is it? What do they want?”

“It’s another headless horseman,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, squinting into the velocity of the escape.  "And he wants you."

“There’s more than one??”  you took the chance to peek over your shoulder again, only to see that the headless man in question was gaining on you.  “Why do you have a head and he doesn’t?” you yelled as Eddie kicked his heels and urged Delilah on.

“I sewed my head back on just for you, baby.”

Eddie coaxed Delilah in a sharp right, bolting across the other side of the field.  Straight ahead in the distance was an old, covered bridge, and Eddie was telling Delilah to beeline right for it.

“Once we get you across that bridge, he can’t touch you,” Eddie said.

“But what about you?” Your voice cracked as the words left your mouth.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll find you again.”

The other Headless Horseman was right behind you now.  He cackled loud and brandished the knife high in the air to let you see that he was serious, and it glinted in the moonlight.

You never doubted for a second that he would use it.

“How is he laughing without a head?” You chanced to ask.

“Oh, he has a head,” Eddie shouted.  “It’s just not on him right now.”

Perfect sense, all of it.  

You were so close to the bridge…so close

But then the other horseman was coming up beside you—

He sliced his blade through the air, missing you both by a hair.

Eddie threw him a dirty look.  “What the hell, man?”

More evil laughter.

The blade came down again, this time, it would’ve clipped your arm if Eddie hadn’t made Delilah swerve in the other direction.

Now, you were headed away from the bridge.

“New plan!” Eddie yelled. 

“Yeah what’s that?” The last word that came out of your mouth was a scream as you saw that the other Headless Horseman was suddenly blocking your path, swinging his arm back, ready to chop Eddie’s head off.

Eddie cursed and Delilah reared up on her back legs as if to protect the both of you with her hooves.

You let out a high pitched wail that pierced the night as you and Eddie toppled from the horse.

You landed in your bed.

Eddie landed in the alfalfa meadow.

Your mouth was dry when your eyes flew open to reveal the calm, familiar bedroom setting, while your hands made tight fists in the sheets.  

It had only been a dream…but how could you still smell the campfire wood of his hair?

You’d never bolted from bed as fast as you did in that moment, scrambling for your pen and journal on the nightstand as you propped yourself up against the headboard.  The tip of your tongue darted over your top lip as you concentrated, writing down everything you could remember from the dream…things he said…the way it felt…

That morning, you drew your very first sketch of him, too.  It was rough, but you got the shape of his mouth correct and his hair, you even put in the details of the thick stitching around his neck that held his head on.

A couple nights went by before you saw him again, and when you did, it would be groundbreaking, because you would remember him for the first time.  

Back in the dream, Delilah resumed a small trot before pausing to snack on some of the grasses.  There was no more tension in the air, no more work to be done, now she could take a break.

On the ground, Eddie rolled onto his back with his arms out and groaned. The clouds gathered in the shape of a hand and cupped the moon in the dark blue sky.  

The other headless horseman was snickering as he dismounted and sheathed his weapon at his side, slapping his leg with the flat of his hand for emphasis on how hilarious it had been.

“Smooth moves, Munson,” Headless Horseman Steve chuckled, his shoulders bouncing.  “I only meant to scare you back in the forest, not start a hot pursuit.”

Still on his back, unwilling to move, Eddie grumbled,  “I should’ve never vouched for you when you came looking for a job, Harrington.”

When Steve finally found the willpower to swallow his amusement, Eddie sat up, patting his arms to release puffs of dirt from the fall.  “What the hell is wrong with you? Did you space out during safety training or what?”

Headless Steve stepped over to offer Eddie his gloved hand to help him up, but Eddie knocked his arm away and stood on his own.  

“Why are you so salty?” Steve's head had been tucked under his cape this whole time, but he procured it now, cradling it in the crook of his arm. “You used to get a kick out of fucking with them.”

“Yeah, well, not anymore,” Eddie mumbled as he picked a piece of grass out of his hair. He turned his back on Steve and strode over to Delilah.

“You want to go back to the factory together?” Steve called out to him.  “Maybe get a drink after?”

Eddie just shook his head before he got up into the saddle and kicked his leg over.  “I’ll catch you later, Harrington.  I need a minute,” and then he clicked his tongue and Delilah moved toward the bridge, to the portal that would take him back to the dream simulator.  

“Sure, man, okay,” Steve said weakly, his mouth moving on the head he had under his arm.  “Good talk.”

Eddie released a heavy sigh as he bobbed up and down to the sway of Delilah’s stride.  He felt like he really got through to you this time, and he wasn’t about to give up.  Even if he had used up all of his chances to appear as himself to you, he’d find a way.  

A big Sasquatch named Saul had ventured out of the woods to see what was going on, and now he stood next to Steve, watching Eddie go.  

“What’s the matter with him?” Saul asked, his enormous body towering above his coworker.  He was covered head to toe with brownish-red hair or fur, so much so that the only way you knew he had eyes was due to the fact that the hair on his face moved when he blinked.   

“Beats me,” Steve scoffed. He was a little hurt that Eddie hadn’t responded the way he’d expected.  It’s almost as if he…cared about the person who was having the dream? But that was silly.  Nightmare workers weren’t allowed to have any connection with their clients.

Steve collected his horse’s reins in his free hand.  “You feel like a beer?” He asked Saul.

“I am thirsty,” Saul responded, twisting to crack his back.  “Just need to let a few more people get a glimpse at me through the trees, and then I can’t meet you back at the lockers.”

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Thank you for reading 🧡

[ashipiko]

ASHI - BIRTHDAY JACKET VIGNETTE 🌺

(PART 1 - 2.7)

ASHI: Hmhm~ A bday Interview, huh? It looked super funsies when everyone else did it, so I’m hyped!

ASHI: I’m guessing since we’re in the Pomedorms… A Pom? But who, exactly…

ASHI: (Ahaha, as nice as Rook and Vil are, I might end up feeling the pressure a little. It’d be an honor, obvs, but #stressful…!)

ASHI: (O Magical Birthday Dice, please have mercy…!)

???: Oi, Ashi!

EPEL: Happy Birthday! You weren’t expecting me, were you?

ASHI: Waugh?! Eppy! Hahaha, what a pleasant surprise!

ASHI: I’m so stoked you’re my interviewer! Who knew I’d get so lucky?

EPEL: No need to flatter me, you know. Thank you for having me.

ASHI: Pssh, why’re you acting so uptight, Eppy? It’s just me! I like your lingo and stuff.

EPEL: I’d love to, but… We’re still in the Pomefiore dorms, you know. I never know if Vil is lurking around or not…

ASHI: Ahh, fair point. Bummer. Maybe next time!

EPEL: Ehe, maybe. Anyway, here’s my birthday present to you. I hope you enjoy.

ASHI: Only one way to find out!

ASHI: Whoa… This is so cute?! And so fluffy…! I needed something to keep me warm at Ramshackle!

ASHI: There’s even little fox ears on it! And it’s my favorite color! Eppy…!

EPEL: I told my Granny about your birthday coming up, and since she enjoyed your company so much during Harveston…

EPEL: She asked for some things that you like and stirred this up. If anything, you should be giving the thanks to her.

ASHI: I thank the entire Felmier fam! It’s so cute, I’m gonna cry…! I’m about to wear this right now!

EPEL: You’re a summer baby, Ashi! Watch out for the heat…

EPEL: And I still have a new stock of apple cider coming in too, from my family’s farm. Your presents don’t just end there, heh.

ASHI: More?! I still haven’t finished the last one you gave me…

ASHI: No sweat! We’ll just plan another hangout at Ramshackle and chug ‘em all down together~.

EPEL: Unless Ace gets jealous and barges in again. That darn simp can’t get enough of ya.

ASHI: Hehe. Maybe I should make a no-Ace sign for next time, to put on Ramshackle’s dorm. Thoughts?

EPEL: I’ll help ya make it!

EPEL: O-Oh right, the interview. Maybe it was a little bit of a mistake pairing us up together, we keep on chatting…

ASHI: Nono! This is a Eppy W, DW!

EPEL: If you say so. First question…

EPEL: If you could take any person with you to a deserted island, who would it be? I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t take one of the ghosts or Grim, but it can’t be someone from your dorm.

ASHI: Grimmy’s great! But for survival… Ehh…

ASHI: NGL, a deserted island sounds kinda scaries, as much as I love the beach. Like yeah, I’d love to hang, but survival? Hecks naw!

EPEL: Sounds about right. You’re really like a princess.

ASHI: Mhm! If I really wanted to, I could probably get to the basics by myself if I tried. But do I wanna? No.

ASHI: It’d probably be a good idea to get paired with someone who knows what they’re doing, y’know? At the very least, I can depend on them!

EPEL: So someone who can take care of you? Leona, maybe? Since he already babies you… Alternatively, I don’t really think Ace would be the best choice, no offense.

ASHI: None taken. He deserves it. But nope! This is a fun scenario, right? I might as well go out with a bang, or someone I can have fun with.

ASHI: So, I say Floyd!

EPEL: Floyd?!

ASHI: Aye aye, cap’n! You get it, don’tcha? He’s so tall and could get all the coconuts! I think we’d have a lot of fun, too.

EPEL: I know you work at Monstro Lounge, but aren’t you scared of him still? He’s a little unpredictable, so he clashes with you.

ASHI: Well, that’s what makes him fun, right? I guess it’s all depending on his mood…

ASHI: One time we accidentally totally crashed Monstro Lounge ‘cause he freaked me out, hehe. It’s a little scary when you’re doing a closing shift and all you hear is a tiny “shriiiimpy~” in the distance.

ASHI: My fear of the dark TOTALLY kicked in then. I never screamed so loud in my entire life!

EPEL: I can imagine… Sharp teeth, glowy eyes and all.

ASHI: I tried getting back at him once too, when I blended some shiitake mushrooms into his milkshake.

ASHI: …I don’t think I’ve ever even ran that fast before, TBH.

EPEL: Ashi, this isn’t really helping your case, if I’m being honest… You’re making it sound like he’d eat you by the time someone saved you two.

ASHI: W-Well! On the other hand, he’s got that eel form that we can rely on too! If we get bored, we can just zoom on out and crash Azul’s place or something, y’know?

EPEL: I guess I see your point. Being a merman must means he could help a lot on an island…

ASHI: Yup, yup! Anyway, I think we’re good enough buds where I’m 97% sure he wouldn’t eat me!~

EPEL: Heh, classic Ashi. I guess in a way you really did think it through, even if it sounded odd at first.

ASHI: Of coursies! ♪

EPEL: Okay, about time for our next question.

EPEL: If you were to transfer to a different dorm, which would you pick?

ASHI: Oh, a good one! I think I’ve kinda cheated with my Ramshackle prefect rights, hehe. I’m a little bit of a dorm-hopper.

ASHI: But a permanently different dorm…~ I think about it sometimes.

EPEL: Really? Which dorms?

EPEL: I think I could see you fitting in Heartslabyul, since you’re pretty good at sticking to the rules. Riddle likes you a lot too, more than he likes Ace, at least.

ASHI: Oho? Tell me more, Eppy!

EPEL: Um… I think Scarabia could fit you too. You and Kalim are sort of one and the same, don’t you see it?

ASHI: I see whatchu mean!

EPEL: Yeah. I couldn’t ever see you in anything like Savanaclaw, Ignihyde, or Diasomnia, though.

EPEL: You don’t really have an athletic, competitive, or magic drive… Ignihyde is a whole can of worms.

EPEL: I don’t think you could stand a day in that dorm, with the dark, creepy skeletons everywhere.

ASHI: Waugh… Don’t remind me, Eppy!

EPEL: Not to mention, the housewarden. As soon as you see him in person, I think the Headmaster would have to get called over for medical issues—

ASHI: Hey hey! No need to out me like that…!

EPEL: Heh, sorry Ashi. Was I right, at least?

ASHI: Hmm… yeah! Not right on the nose, though.

ASHI: I think that if I were to be in a dorm… I’d pick Pomefiore.

EPEL: I didn’t really consider it, but I could see it now that you say it. The uniform would fit you, I think.

ASHI: Yeah! And we’d get to be twinsies!

ASHI: Ashi-Eppy, the Birthday swapped duo! 5/6 and 6/5! ☆

EPEL: Heheh. You’d definitely be a shine of sunlight in here. It would be fun to hang out with you at Pomefiore.

EPEL: But you don’t use makeup, don’t you? That’d be a sure-fire way to stand out.

ASHI: Yeah, that’s be the only downside…

ASHI: And the food, right?! It looks so… appetizer-core. Defo not up my alley, I couldn’t imagine…

ASHI: But Vil and Rook are cool! At least at Pomefiore, I know there’s people that can help accommodate me and make sure I’m happy and healthy!

ASHI: Maybe instead of a potato, I can became a French fry… Sounds kinda banger, don’t you think?

EPEL: You make a funny argument.

ASHI: Life at Ramshackle can get kinda stressful, you know! I love the ghosts and all, but it’s scary sometimes…

ASHI: Grimmy thinks it’s funny to prank me, and he’ll just graze over my legs as I’m sleeping, and it’s so freaky!

ASHI: Dunno, man… It’d be nice to see him get some karma and have to keep it all up-tight at Pomefiore.

ASHI: But I guess at the end of the day, the thing that I’m missing at my dorm is the constant hustle and bustle.

EPEL: People would kill for that, you know.

ASHI: Also true~.

ASHI: Well, there’s no silence you can’t fix with a simple hangout! I can always count on you to make Ramshackle a little more lively, right Eppy?

EPEL: That’s right! The Ashi— Eh… Eppy duo can reign at Ramshackle!

ASHI: Darn right, hahaha!

-

ASHI: D’aww, is it already the end of the interview…?

EPEL: Yep. It’s ‘round time for yer good-luck gift!

ASHI: Wow, hometown-Eppy makes a comeback?! That doesn’t sound good for me at all—!

EPEL: Trust me, yer gonna wanna brace yerself. ‘Cause I ain’t goin’ easy on ya, even if you are a girl!

ASHI: Oh boy… Guess I shouldn’t hold back either, huh?

ASHI: …Pfft! KK, bring it on!~

EPEL: Prepare yerself!

EPEL: Happy Birthday, Ashi!

-

CARD: UNLOCKED!

GROOVY: UNLOCKED!

[chillinglyadventurous]

Spooktober Day 4 - “Keep carving your pumpkin like that and there won't be any pumpkin left!"

Dipper and Mabel were in from California for about a week. You had been so excited when Stan had told you they were coming up. Halloween was in a few days. They’d experienced Summerween in Gravity Falls. Now, it was time for the real thing. You had gone out and selected the best pumpkins you could find at the store. Each was round with smooth sides. They would make the perfect jack o'lanterns. You couldn’t wait to carve pumpkins with your favorite twins.

The fall air was crisp as you set a pumpkin in front of each kid. The three of you sat on an old blanket. Dipper and Mabel on each side of you. Meanwhile, Stan was sitting across from you three. He was sipping from a mug, something that smelled spice, suspiciously like hot cider, but, knowing Stan, it could have been anything.

“Well, this is going o be fun!” Mabel nearly shouted, her eyes gleaming. The way she held up the carving knife made you nervous. “Ree ree!” She laughed as she stabbed at the air.

Dipper looked up at you with a roll of his eyes, “I hope you’re prepared, [Y/N]. Mabel takes pumpkin carving very seriously.”

Mabel gave a gasp of betrayal as she pulled her pumpkin closer to her with one hand. The knife was gripped in the other. Perhaps you should have gotten the safety kit, “I don’t take pumpkin carving seriously.” She plunged the knife into the pumpkin’s top with force you had only ever seen in a gorey horror movie Stan had made you watch, “I take it aggressively!”

“She cuts herself, you’re cleaning up the blood,” Stan sighed as he flipped through his paper. He wasn’t even looking. Who would trust him with children?

You and Dipper exchanged nervous glances as Mabel butchered her pumpkin. The sound of Mbel sawing through her gourd was deafening, horrifying. Pumpkin guts flew through the air. In no time, her sweater was covered. The blanket you three were sitting on was quickly stained orange. Stray bits got stuck in your hair, traveling so far as to hit Stan who was easily sitting about ten feet away.

“Stan grumbled when a clot of guts plopped into his mug, “Watch it, kid! You’re ruining my peace and quiet.”

Mabel giggled manically as her sawing continued, “Sorry, Grunkle Stan!”

Cautiously, you placed your hand atop of Mabel’s to stop her aggressive cutting, “Okay, girlie. Keep carving like that and there won;t be any pumpkin left.”

“The pumpkin has to feel the passion, the Mabel-ness. How else is it supposed to become a masterpiece to be treasured for centuries?”

“Dipper rolled his eyes, “Or it will just be a lot of empty space where a pumpkin used to be.” His face twisted up as he plucked a strand of pumpkin guts out of his hair, “Mabel, you do know these will be rotted in like a week, right?”

You snorted a laugh as Mabel stuck her tongue out at Dipper. Your smile quickly fading as she carved a jagged smirk into the face of her pumpkin. You’d never seen a scary jack o'lantern, but this one was. Perhaps you only had the creeps because of how good that girl was with a knife. Who taught her that? Who would trust this kid with a knife? Why did you give her a knife?

Meanwhile, Dipper was taking a more methodical approach. The more time you spent with the twins, the more you realized how much each took after their grunkles. Mabel was Stan and Dipper was Ford. Dipper was scientific, slow and thoughtful. Mabel, on the other hand, shot from the hip, each decision she made was determined in a quick second. She didn’t think twice, trusting her gut rather than logic, like Stan. 

“Are you doing anything special with yours?” Dipper wondered as he studied your still-intact pumpkin.

You shrugged as you finished digging out your pumpkin guts, “Something simple, I guess. I love a classic.” You watched as Mabel carved x’s where her pumpkin’s eyes should be. Did she learn that from Ford? “I don’t think mine will be as intense as your sister’s.”

You three continued to work in silence until Mabel dramatically placed the top back onto her pumpkin. She stood from her seat to get a better look at her handiwork. Her smile was proud as she bent down to pick it up, “Behold, pumpkin perfection!”

“If by perfection you mean chaotic destruction, sure, Mabel,” Dipper grimaced, “it’s perfect.”

“Yeesh,” Stan shuddered as he got a look at Mabel’s creation, “that thing looks like it wants to eat me.”

Mabel gave her brother a glare, recklessly tossing her carving knife onto the ground. You made a mental note to have Ford give her a lesson in knife safety. You definitely weren’t going to risk a finger in teaching her that. At least Ford had two fingers to spare, “You’re just jealous of my artistic talent. No one has ever made a jack o'lantern so unique.”

You nodded, “It definitely has personality.” You took her pumpkin and placed it on the front steps of the Mystery Shack.

Dipper followed suit, placing yours and his next to Mabel’s on the stoop. Stan stood to admire your work as he finished whatever was in his mug, “I don’t know why you kids bother carving those thingS. I say leave ‘em whole and sell ‘em for profit.” Stan patted the two whole pumpkins you had picked out which were discarded on the stoop before you and the kids had started carving yours, one for him and one for Ford, “These babies are gonna fetch a nice profit. Those dumb tourists will pay top dollar for a rare Gravity Falls pumpkin-” He stopped short as an idea formed into his head, “On second though, sweetie, why don’t you whip up a few more of those creepy pumpkins? Sell ‘em as local art.”

That night, you had managed to drag Stan and Ford onto the stoop where the kids were waiting so patiently. Dipper placed the tealight candles into your carved pumpkins and Ford lit them, “You all did a great job. Very creative, Mabel.”

“Thanks, Grunkle Ford!”

[tobyislame]

Hi this is awkward s/o person again, you have fueled my toby brain and I'd like to make another request (if you're willing)

What would he be like with his s/o on Halloween? Does he dress up with them, get candy, or maybe stay home and watch scary movies with them? And very important question...if he dresses up, who would he dress up as?

toby rogers x reader: HALLOWEEN EDITION!!!!

welcome back friend!!! i will always be willing i love your requests!! OHOHOHO i am going to get soo silly with this one

- toby goes fucking BALLISTIC over halloween oh my god. it's the only time of the year where he can go into town and just be normal. everyone's got masks on, everyone's donning costumes, so he blends in like butter on bread. being able to exist in a public space without so much as a dirty look is fucking elating, it's one of the only graces of normalcy that he gets and he milks the opportunity for everything its got. what most would treat like any other day, he treats like a paragon. for one night he isn't toby rogers, wanted dead or alive - he's just some guy.

- he's suuuper fucking annoying about it too. he wants to do ALL the halloween stuff and he WILL drag you along with him whether you want it or not. his mansion buds aren't exempt from this treatment either no one is safe

- before night falls and the real fun begins, you guys are staying in and he's making SURE you have a good day. he's got those cheap halloween cookies in the oven (you know the ones they got pumpkins on em), his place is done up with lights and tacky dollar store decorations, and he's got a pot of apple cider simmering on the stove that mixes with the woodsy smell of his cabin just fucking beautifully. he tries really hard.

- he gets really fucking into it, and you can't help but find his admittedly childlike excitement over it a little endearing. if you ever commented on it, about how he hardly gets this excited over anything else, he'd probably just get all weirdly defensive and dismissive over it. he's been this way about it since he was a kid, never really grew out of it. even after everything.

- he's putting out a SPREAD of treats for you guys: candy corn, caramel corn, the works. can't have it any other way if you're marathoning slashers. there's a sort of unmentionable effort he puts into it with the halloween paper plates he goes out of his way to get (steal), one of those little details that puts this subdued warmth in your chest. he wants to make everything nice for you. he wants for you to have good things.

- you two. on his pilled up couch. grandpa sweaters. steaming apple cider in thrifted (stolen) mugs. flannel blanket. crackling embers from the log burner. oh yeah baby

- he makes halloween movie watchlists. oh yeah he's serious about this. he only really likes the kind of stuff you can snag off rental store shelves: sleepaway camp for eye candy (we need more slutty slutty men in horror flicks), hellraiser but only the 1987 one, texas chainsaw massacre but only the 1974 one (he's got a crush on leatherface that he'll never admit to anyone or himself), the thing is his fucking FAVORITE horror movie of all time, throw the final destinations in there just for fun, stuff like that. saw movies are his guilty pleasure. even with you, he tries to be some hard-ass and play it off when he gets all spooked and jumpy, though the way he clings to you just a little tighter says something else.

- yea this man has split skulls and gotten brain matter stuck in his hair and horror movies still scare him

- now the most important question: costumes.

- ok i have two visions for what he'd be and in both events he's forcing you to dress up with him: for one i can totally see him throwing on some ferris bueller getup and dragging you along as either sloane or cameron, or y'all are going as bill and ted and he's calling dibs on bill (so he has an excuse to wear a crop top it's totally only for the costume). if you refuse to dress up he will not shut up about how you're "no fun" until you give in

- he also uses the holiday as an opportunity to terrorize the general public. you guys are hiding out in corn mazes and jumping out at whatever poor soul happens to walk by like some surprise scare actor, pretending to be ghosts to scare off the kids who think hanging out at cemeteries makes them cool. he's the village menace. genuinely the HOA puts up a sign saying look out for this guy

- he takes you "trick or treating" but with the biggest quotations ever. he'll go around to the houses that just have bowls of candy out with a sign that says "please take one" or something and straight up just take the bowl

- when he isn't having (mostly) harmless fun and treating the townspeople like his plaything, he's treating you to some good wholesome traditional halloween activities, and he's a massive sucker for those. like, no fucking question about it he is dragging your ass to the pumpkin patch. if he's lucky he can get a five finger discount on some caramel apples for you two. of COURSE he's hauling some pumpkins home for you guys to carve, even if he'll just inevitably leave them to rot on his porch but he SWEARS he'll throw them out soon he SWEARS

- he insists on going to at least one haunted house even though he's the one that always gets you two kicked out for clocking scare actors. he's banned from most of them

- at some point in the night you'll probably end up crashing some college house party and, even though they scare him shitless, nothing makes him feel more like a guy than standing around with a red solo cup in his hand. he isn't there to make friends anyway (god knows he has no clue how), he's the one that just kinda pets the dog the entire time then leaves

- at the very end of day you guys are falling asleep tangled up in each other on the couch, smoke hanging in the air and the dvd screensaver bouncing around on the tv screen

[modernidolater]

🎃Wheel of Halloween🎃

There's a post of a tweet saying that every 31st of the month should be a Halloween, and you know what? I'm a Halloween Witch. I'm an Idolater. I'm an urban techno witch who lives an air conditioned life, can't stand nature bigger than a park or local landscaping, and hates leaving the city except to drive to another damn city.

I have been struggling to connect to the Wheel of the Year or the Solstices/Equinoxes for freaking years.

But a cycle of Halloweens?

That.

That I can fucking do.

So, without further ado, I present the shit I will be actually celebrating. Ya don't have to join me, but I will be posting about it for those that wanna follow along, with options and cutouts for those who don't want to or can't do the more party elements.

With luck, I'll pick up on August 31st and go from there, if not, I'll start with actual Halloween.

Halloween

October 31st

It's muthafucking Halloween. I have ideas and will post about them more as we get closer, but you know what this one is.

New Year's Eve

December 31st

This one actually also exists, but I have plans for tying it to the January 31st one to bookend the year. The primary purpose of this Eve is gratitude and sharing the good things from the year before, casting off the trappings of the old year, and to bring the new one in with luck and prosperity.

Candle's Eve

January 31st

One month from the casting out of the old year, it's time to set things for the new. Cleansing and cleaning, setting intentions (not resolutions) for the year to come, making the Mask of the Year to call on who I aspire to be, burning the intentions set last year with last years candle, and blessing a candle to burn this years intentions next year are all features. Food and drink suggestions available when I actually post this up.

Hallow Ides

March 31st

Couple of these have fun names, and this is one of them. It's a party holiday, involving a picnic and a special cake/cupcakes/muffins.

The costume element is that I'll swap clothes or looks with someone I'm celebrating with (or dress up as someone else if celebrating solo).

There's a drinking element (non-alcoholic is fine) that results in a stack o' good luck charms.

And for my trick, I can and will sing the filthiest songs, tell the dirtiest jokes, read a romance novel or erotica, just go ham on the bawdy shit.

Alternatives for ace and non-sexing folk will be forthcoming in the relevant post, but it's my damn Wheel and I'm doing bawdy shit for myself.

Blessed Eve

May 31st

Not a bonfire person, but I'm definitely gonna have a cookout and grill up some burgers! Also a neat drink and cookies that both double as offerings!

Flower masks and crowns are involved to hide from the spring spirits that might fux me upa.

There's a Blessing Bouquet that goes up early, is used to exorcise and re-bless my property/house, and then is ceremonially burned.

An ash blessing to seal the prosperity into my house ties the whole thing off.

Fortune's Eve

July 31st

This one pretty heavily revolves around a ritual game of betting and chance that I came up with based on a cool concept tied into the holiday I'm aiming at. Game generates lucky candy and a good luck charm.

Hella apples involved including a ceremonial apple and cider. Veils worn for the blindness of luck, and a strong theme of having a game day.

Neewollah

August 31st

I'm actually pretty stoked for this one, and will do a more expansive post on it later this week. I really hope I can pull this together in time this year.

Idea is a bit Opposite Day, a bit of LiarWeen vibe.

Trick the cosmos into taking away the bad shit and giving me good shit through a ritual lying ceremony, wearing a mask of duality to further confuse the issue. Ritual ash anointing to lock things down and ensure I get the stuff I want and ward off the shit I got rid of.

Candy (obvs) but I (and anyone celebrating with me) has to ask, and the person giving it has to make a point of saying no...while forking over.

And of course, games like Never Have I Ever or Two Truths & A Lie, drinking optional. (I will...probably...drink. Just saying.)

Where's the Eighth One?

Wheel has eight Sabbats, yeah?

In the grand tradition of the Satanist/Luciferian practices I stuck with for so long, Number 8 is my Birthday.

Or yours, if you decide to try this.

I'll decide what I wanna do about Birthday when I get there. You do you, tho.

And That's The Wheel of Halloween!

So yes, some of those are closer to recognizable Sabbats. Some of them are so far off that they're not in the same neighborhood. Spoiler: the ones you don't recognize are based (very, very loosely) on Roman festivals that occur in the corresponding month.

Why Roman?

Cause they had a religious festival for everything, there's records I can squint at, and they had a strong mystery tradition that plays well with my schtick.

I am not a dedicated Rome fanby, to be clear, the empire is just very much gone, very well attested, and I can most likely swipe the shape of their shit without worrying about stepping on anyone.

And even then, I'm mixing time periods, even up to hijacking Medieval Xtian shit where and when I see fit. Cause I was baptized Catholic, and that shit is my culture to use.

Neewollah Posting Hopefully Soon! Stay Tuned!

And of course, feel free to reach out for asks, questions, and readings if ya want 'em.

[lanternlightss]

(thank you to @arson-n-quwubilder for the request <3 ! )

There is not a sight more fascinating to Venti than the image of his dear friend with his eyes sparkling, awed etched into every detail of his features, his mouth opened in a small “o,” as he takes in what lies before him—the food of the one, the only, Good Hunter!

Cecil’s fingers dig into the cuffs of his top. Points, to where Sara sets a Mint Jelly plate and an Apple Roly Poly onto the counter, turning to face Venti. He had done the same to the last few foods that have been taken away to those who had ordered them (a Satisfying Salad, Venison Steak, Moon Pie, and Crab, Ham & Veggie Bake, thus far.) He seems to be particularly intrigued about the Apple Roly Poly, now, though, asking Venti, “What is that?”

His eyes pull up, delighted to share—the food his children think of and create are extraordinary! “An Apple Roly Poly! It is made with apples, of course, and eggs, butter, flour, all coiled into one. A delicacy, for sure.”

“And—the green?”

“Mint Jelly,” and how, briefly, he wishes that those in Old Mondstadt could have eaten jelly, he thinks that Amos would have liked it. “it is made with those mints you keep seeing, and sugar. A very squishy, sweet food!”

“Squishy ….”

Cecil falls into a contemplative silence. Frets with Venti’s ruffles, and the buttons on his sleeve, his expression becoming something akin to a stilted wariness, determination the longer he thinks on his words. Venti, deliberately, pretends not to notice, casually humming a short tune to himself in the wait, and lightly tapping his foot against the legs of the wooden chair he sits on.

“Are there any other foods made of apples?”

Venti grins. “My friend, there are many. Northern Apple Stew, Apple Fritters, ehe, it is not a food, but Apple Ciders, and Candy Apples, Apple Cake, Apple Pie—”

“Apple Pie!?”

“Apple Pie!!!!!!”

“How is it made?”

“Oh, apples, sugar, flour, cinnamon, mmm.. butter too, and—” and they … they have everything they need to make it … right here, oh goodness, Venti from three days past thank you for not spending a drop of your mora! He stands from his chair (Cecil jumping, hand darting from his sleeve), it scraping across the stones, tittering just that slightest bit at the end. “One moment, beloved!”

“What—” He, too, stands, one knee placed onto the seat, his head swiveling to follow after Venti bursting into a run to the general goods shop, “What are you—??”

“One moment, cherished, one moment!!”

He is certain there are teal feathers and puffs of Anemo trailing after him in his sprint, hoping those are overlooked by the Vision hung at his belt, too caught in his excitement to get the ingredients needed to tweak that little quirk. It is normal to have feathers. Glowing feathers. Very normal, everyday thing that people have and do. Pay no mind to the fact that his Vision is not also glowing as brightly as the feathers are, it happens, you see.

Sliding up to the counter, bracing his hands on it, he pants: “Miss Blanche! Miss Blanche, good lady, do you happen to have flour, milk, eggs and cinnamon?”

Blanche, the lovely shopkeeper she is, is holding a hand to her mouth, attempting to hide a laugh. Venti considers this a success.

“Of—snrk—Of course.” She pivots on her heel, rummaging through the shelves positioned around her, meticulously and gingerly adding each item grabbed to the crook of her elbow. She sets them down just as gently. “That’ll be two hundred and forty mora!”

Venti has already brought out and dug through his pouch of the currency. Pokes at the pile, as he counts it in his head, and puts the needed amount into her outstretched palm, scooping the ingredients into his arms with his other hand (and, for fun, tips his hat very gentlemanly at her in a swish of Anemo—fun party trick, he should add, being able to concentrate it to a single point as so.)

“Thank you, Miss Blanche! Good day!”

“Good day to you, too!”

He waves to her, walking backwards, as he hurries to where an awfully confused Cecil continues to half-stand, half-sit. That confusion is merely amplified by Venti arranging the flour, milk, eggs and cinnamon on the table, tapping at the cork of the cinnamon when it is to his liking. Skips over to Good Hunter immediately after, his dearest spluttering, looking between the objects and him, scrutinizing both in a manner similar to that of when he is solving a problem.

“Miss Sara—”

“Let me guess: butter and sugar?”

“Heehee, caught! Yes, ma’am, if I could have those, pretty please!!”

She smiles at him, eyes softening. Ducks down to the cabinets, opening them, the hinges creaking softly. He thumps his fingers on the counter (in a pattern he remembers from the “drumming contest” that Bennett and Amber had him supervise), listening to the clink of the bottles.

“Here you are,” she sets them beside his hand. “Six-hundred-forty five mora!”

“Ooohhhh..” He tries his best not to visibly show his surprise, the pouch being rifled through again. “Six-hundred-forty five… ?”

“Six-hundred-forty five!”

That certainly is an amount for this all…

He hands over what is needed, snatching the butter and sugar, and shoving the marginally lighter feeling pouch into the hole of his shorts, for the meanwhile. He waves bye to Sara, as well, skipping over to Cecil—who is looming above the previous ingredients, hands to the sides of them, his face drawn into a slanted frown—and proudly presenting what he has. Cecil blinks at him, his expression transforming to a wide-eyed one, then scrunches his brows into a furrow, his lips thinning.

“Venti,” flops onto the seat, “my little song, my darling, my angel. Why did you gather this? Are we, by chance...?”

He shakes the sugar, the tiny specks bobbing in the bottle, swaying back and forth while he does. “Mhm! We can make Apple Pie!!”

That has Cecil shift to bewilderment, rising from the chair, swinging his gaze back to the table. “And everything is this… leisurely, to gather? All of it, in the market—“ he falters, going over each item once more, finding one, strangely, missing, “—all… well, almost everything.”

An eyebrow is cocked at Venti, Cecil placing his hands on his (also cocked to the side) hips, trying for a “disappointed” stance. A stance that is betrayed by the mirth in his eyes, simply bemused wondering behind it. “Are we to make Apple Pie without the Apples?”

Venti giggles.

“Do not fret, they are taken care of!!” His cape makes a satisfying swoosh sound, as he bounds toward his precious, clutching his butter and sugar close (it will not be spilling on his watch!) “And I know a spot where we will be able to put everything together, just the two of us”—he winks, braids and eyes flickering in their glowing—“if you could, the other..?”

Cecil moves a hand closer to the ingredients. “On it.”

First, the milk is placed under his right arm. Then, the eggs are gathered next to it, followed by balancing the flour and cinnamon on them. He continues to maneuver them, walking up to Venti, his arms crossed tightly, a part of his cloak draping over his left bicep.

Hooking a hand on that bicep, Venti urges Cecil to one of the alleyways. And, once it seems that no one is giving them attention, allows the swirling of Anemo to swathe them; looping strings of teal round and round, pressing into the skin and leaving them with fleeting prickles of buzzing. His braids lift into the air, the wind zipping past, accelerating, and he clings to Cecil as it all brings itself into, well, itself. Raising them and streaming them through the many, many winds of Mondstadt.

They whip by buildings and fields, fields and buildings. Ending pushed inside a door to a nice, little area in between, the enticing smell of the latest batch of pastries wafting throughout the room.

Cecil stumbles, slightly, knocking one foot into the other, when the Anemo dissipates. Venti keeps his grip on his bicep, stepping back the moment his friend is steady, and spins to walk by, carrying his items at an arm’s length while he proceeds towards the kitchen island, located dab in the middle of the room.

Footsteps edge closer to the archway of the kitchen, where it splits into two hallways—ones that Venti merely glances towards, noting Cecil with his hand braced on that archway, as he leans out to look down the corridors. He directs his attention to the items, then the drawers of the countertops, and the cabinets. The pie plate and bowls should be in the bottom ones, the measuring spoons should be in the far left drawer, and the measuring cups should be above them… hm…..

With a snap of his fingers, the cabinets and drawers are pulled open in a tug of Anemo. Meticulously, he grabs each one needed (medium sized bowl, colored blue, same with the measuring spoons, and the glass plate and cups—and, for extra, a rolling pin.) He sets these next to the butter and sugar, hands on his hips as he inspects everything.

A soft, frilly fabric is pressed to his cheek. He turns to see Cecil offering him a green, pinstripe cooking apron (a white bow wrapped at the middle), oh!! In a swift whoosh, both his corset and cape vanish, as he takes the apron into his hands and sets to tying it around his waist, exclaiming: “You found them!”—Cecil snorting at his eagerness, placing the ingredients he had held in his arm next to Venti’s, and undoing his belt, then vest, and snapping open the clasp of his cloak, to put on his matching blue, pinstripe apron as well.

“Alright!” Venti says, clapping his hands, “Let us get to work, yes?”

Cecil, eyeing the bowl, hums. “The Apples?”

“Of course, of course,” Giggling, he reaches to his beret, and, with a flutter of his hand, taps at the very top of it (the Cecilia and leaves bouncing.) His fingers dig under it, and flings it to the side; falling into a bow to catch it, thus revealing the six red apples that laid underneath it.

There is a pause. The Apples are plucked from his hair, being replaced by a hand, of which ruffles there til it is a disheveled jumble of strands—Venti leaning into each pat that passes with a grin.

“I should have known,” Cecil huffs, amusement laced in his voice. Venti is sure that when his beloved steps around him to get to the sink, his expression can best be summarized as “cat that caught the canary,” just about as pleased as punch at this outcome. Another “party trick” of his, one that never gets old in seeing everyone’s reaction to it!

A bit aways from him, water rushes from the faucet, spilling over the apples held under it.

Busying himself whilst Cecil does that, he arranges each ingredient from largest to smallest, and once that is done, picks up the bottle of sugar to regard how much is inside. From what he recalls of the recipe for this, it should be.. half cup sugar, two tablespoons flour, one teaspoon cinnamon, one egg, and all of the apples are accounted for already…. hm, hm, hm!

The apples are gently rolled into the flour bag, Cecil stopping them from going further with a gentle touch to their stems. Bumps his hip againsts Venti’s, passing by, to settle beside the right of him.

One hand going behind his back, the other gesturing towards what sits in front of them both, Cecil clears his throat, lowering his voice to a comical degree, “Shall we?”

Barking a laugh into his fist, Venti stands straight, rolling his shoulders back, clasping his hands at the waist. Lowering his voice, too, and nodding hard enough that it has his braids flailing into the air, “We shall.” (He will say, though, that they lasted a solid minute without breaking their characters—only breaking when Cecil had looked to Venti, whom was deepening his frown, and burst into cackles.)

And so they do. And so it becomes a mess halfway in (he is mildly surprised it had not when he had swirled the bowl of sugar, flour, and butter with Anemo, and had it spring out everywhere at the end—he had sighed when making the whipped cream, too, as Kaeya would have been a fantastic helper), when Venti, after rolling the dough, tucking it into the pie plate, and having wiped a quick streak of the apple juices on his hands across Cecil’s nose. Which had lead to Cecil mock gasping, running his hands through the leftovers of the ingredients and cupping Venti’s cheeks with them, which then to Venti dusting the bottoms of Cecil’s braids with sugar, which then lead to Cecil packing up flour into a shape of a ball and mushing it against him, and—

The kitchen will need … cleaning, most certainly. As will they, the two of them sat on the floor, snickering and chortling, nearly covered head to toe in contents and components.

Despite this, the pie tastes delicious, Venti thinks to himself, offering another piece of the pie pierced through a fork to Cecil, for him to bite and eat.