#where to buy velvet pumpkins

[abiiors]

under the cherry blossoms - george x reader ˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧💌˚.⋆🌿

a/n: this isn't intentionally a george birthday fic but i'm honestly very happy with the coincidence. happy birthday to my sweetie pumpkin pie sugar plum fairy boy 🤭🤍 cw: brief mentions of being sick, like vomit etc. and a lot of sappy fluff, some smut but not very detailed and explicit. this is sooooooo cheesy ugh wc: 3.3k

it’s hits him first when he surprises her with the tickets as a christmas present—tickets to japan for the coming spring. tickets to see the cherry blossoms that she’s been dying to see ever since george showed her a few photos of him and the band in japan, laughing under the cherry blossoms, surrounded by pink petals. 

her eyes go round at the sight of the tickets, lingering on the destination again and again until her brain catches up with exactly what’s happening. then she grins so wide that she can’t quite keep her eyes open and tackles george into a hug until he’s on the floor and she’s on top of him, kissing his whole face and mumbling thank you over and over again. 

george hugs her tightly and laughs at her excitement. 

it hits him then—he should buy a ring. 

for weeks he pesters matty about it, then ross, then adam. adam, naturally, seems to have the most credibility on this matter, he’s the only one of them who’s ever made it to the marriage stage. george has a million and one questions about it, and a million and one anxious thoughts that just won’t seem to go away. 

“what if she hates the ring!” 

“she loves you, she’ll love the ring you get her.”

“yeah but what if i blow it and say all the wrong things?!”

“have you ever done that in the past?”

“uh… no.”

and this is where adam’s patience runs thin. 

ultimately, george is told to calm down, breathe, and pick a ring he thinks she’ll like. george knows her like the back of his own hand—knows her likes and dislikes and pet peeves, knows the weird ribena flavours she prefers. he even knows that she is a little superstitious about broken mirrors and spilt salt but gets huffy when it’s brought up (mostly by george in a fond, teasing way)

suffice it to say, george knows her. inside and out. 

and so decides to get his shit together, and get her the most perfect ring he’s ever seen.

ring tucked safely in george’s suitcase, they land in tokyo three days before his birthday. 

now that he’s over all his nervousness, george can’t contain the fucking excitement he’s felt for the past few weeks—it’s been an almost impossible task to keep the ring hidden from her at home. the sock drawer is out of question, along with every other tiny nook and cranny in the house because george knows how thorough she gets about spring cleaning. he has to resort to handing the ring to adam for safe-keeping. 

and sure it’s mostly so she won’t find it by accident, but also because he doesn’t want to give into the intimacy of the moment and propose on a whim. 

he wants it to be grand—champagne and candles and roses (or well… cherry blossoms). he wants it to be memorable. 

they get the hotel check-in sorted—well george does anyway while she bounces on the balls of her feet next to him, too excited to care about any tiredness or jet lag. 

it’s blissful, it’s perfect—that’s how he’d describe the first two days they spend there. so far it’s been exactly what he wanted—relaxing and exciting. the ring burns a hole in his suitcase though. every time he grabs something from it, he can’t resist swiping his fingers over the velvet box stashed in the corner, almost like his brain is trying to confirm over and over again that the ring is indeed there. 

at night when she goes to bed, george rehearses his speech in his head. 

you’re the love of my life… no! too fucking cheesy, and he’s stating the obvious.

i’ve thought of marrying you for… no! he can’t bring it up in the first fucking line, not before he actually pops the question. that’s meant to be for the after. 

i love you, i love everything about you… yes, okay, yes! now he’s going somewhere. that’s what he should do—keep it sweet and simple and real. keep it genuine. and so he repeats all of it in his head over and over again, smiling wide each time when he imagines her reaction. 

his mind’s come up with a thousand different scenarios—outcomes of all the little details. would she cry? (yes) would she squeal and jump? (also yes)

would she say yes? (he really fucking hopes so)

his actual birthday is out of the question. george knows she’s a firm believer in not proposing on other special occasions—so no christmas, no birthdays, and absolutely not someone else’s wedding. 

besides, he just wants to have a good birthday without being all nervous and jittery about it. 

on the day of, he wakes up to balloons. tonnes of them. he doesn’t even know when she’s had the time to blow them all up and arrange them in the room and order room service breakfast in bed with cherry blossoms in a small vase but george feels warmth spread through his whole body. 

how did he get so lucky? 

“happy birthday!” she squeals the moment she realises he’s awake. her excitement is palpable, her huge smile infectious. george pulls her tightly into his arms and kisses her softly. 

he mumbles a quiet thank you too, murmured against her lips so he won’t have to pull away a lot. 

she’s the one who deepens the kiss, dragging her tongue over his lip and nipping at it until his fingers dig into her hips out of sheer desperation. she fits so perfectly against him, like the last piece of a puzzle. made just for him. 

she groans into the kiss and his hand travels down, grabbing and squeezing her ass until she wraps her legs around his waist and gets on top. all traces of sleep leave him in an instant. 

george sits up as much as he can. his kisses turn feverish as his lips move along the hollow of her throat, her collarbone. 

“my sweet, sunshine girl,” he smiles along her skin, words spoken in a low whisper that make her shiver and squeeze her legs around him. 

his mouth travels lower, ghostly kisses trailed to as much of her cleavage as her top offers. 

“george,” her fingers tighten on his shirt, “please, i need—fuck, need you.”

“anything for my girl,” he whispers.

everything about her amazes him—from the way she knows his body so well, to the way hers responds so perfectly to his touch. he can’t help but stare at her with adoration when he slides down on his cock, taking him inch by inch, face contorted in pleasure. he can’t stop staring at her when she falls apart, crying out his name. he only closes his eyes when his orgasm hits him, making his whole body tingle in pleasure. 

she falls on his chest after, body sweaty and slick and stays there until she manages to catch her breath. even when she climbs off him, she doesn’t venture too far, climbing back into bed and cuddling into his side once she gets some water for the both of them. 

“cancel plans for today? please?” he mumbles into her hair and she laughs. 

“we’re here, all the way on a different continent, and you want to spend the whole day in bed?” 

“please?” he tries his best at using puppy eyes on her, a trick that’s worked great for him multiple times before. and once again, she relents. 

“fineee birthday boy! only because it’s your day though.”

at the back of his head he kinda wishes it wasn’t, only so he could get the ring out right now and ask her. right here in this bed while she’s naked. 

he imagine what she’d look like with nothing but the ring on, the diamond glittering on her finger, messy hair, and a happy smile on her face. 

“can we at least have a birthday dinner for you? a proper one.”

“yes! i know just the right place,” he answers and kisses her deeply, teeth snagging on her lower lip until she’s wrapped around him again. 

tomorrow, he thinks. he’s going to do it tomorrow. 

and he’s going to make it perfect. 

the birthday dinner comes back to bite him in the ass. 

he spends the entirety of the morning after miserable on the bathroom floor, retching into the toilet, even after his stomach is emptier than it’s ever been. she sits behind him, stroking his back and getting him water whenever he needs it. she doesn’t move even when he repeatedly asks her to. 

“‘s disgusting,” followed by another gag to which makes her click her tongue. 

“it’s not. let me take care of you!”

it does bring him some relief to lay his head down on her lap in between rounds of throwing up so george doesn’t argue further about it. 

mostly though he’s upset about the whole day being ruined. he should be kneeling down in front of her! asking her the most important question of his life! and yet here he is, kneeling down in front of the toilet, face to face with disgusting, half-digested food. 

it’s like the universe has it out for him, ruining all his well thought out plans. 

fortunately, it passes an hour later, even though it leaves him feeling icky and disgusting. the only silver lining is that he gets to be pampered. she lets him sit in the bath, face squished into her stomach while she washes his hair for him. he groans every time a stomach cramp hits but she scratches his scalp as a consolation. 

it’s okay, he thinks, he still has a good few days to do it. tomorrow will be better.

and then they fight. 

well, it’s not a fight fight but it’s most certainly a little spat that leaves her all huffy and sour. and george knows it’d be a terrible idea to propose when she’s in a mood like this. it is, in part, his fault after all—he’s been distracted. 

and he can’t even admit to her why he’s been distracted, coordinating all the little details with the hotel staff and telling the old japanese florist exactly what flowers he wants where one party barely speaks english and the other speaks no japanese at all. 

it’s all stressful. it’s a slight mess. 

and he’s been on his phone a little more than he should. so when george looks up to see her, her hand on her hips, foot tapping in annoyance, he knows he’s messed up.

“is there something more important?” there’s a slight bite to her words which grates on him. 

george freezes, trying to think of an excuse on the spot. “just…matty.”

her eyes narrow. he knows that look, knows that she does not believe a word coming out of his mouth right now. but it’s not like he can spill everything. 

“there was a…holdup. sorted now.” he tries not to stutter but ends up sounding really curt. 

she gives him the side-eye, playing with the tassels of her top. george hears her exasperated sigh, her frustration palpable in the tension that hangs between them. “it’s always matty. how convenient.” 

george's jaw tightens, his own irritation flaring up. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“well, you’re clearly being shady and using matty as an excuse!”

george panics. this is going south and if he doesn’t salvage this now and come up with a better excuse he’s going to end up with an upset girlfriend and absolutely zero chances of a yes. 

he opens and closes his mouth, stuttering out gibberish. 

fuck. 

“it’s fine, george,” she sighs and turns around, walking away without even waiting to see if he’s following. it’s upsetting that he can’t figure out what she’s thinking right now. it’s not like her to be upset with him so quickly. it’s not like her to just stop communicating. 

all george can do is catch up to her and kiss her head in apology. eventually she melts but he can still sense a bit of hurt in her voice every time she speaks. 

“fine,” she huffs, “you can stop looking like a kicked puppy now. i’m not mad at you.”

“you sure about that?”

“i promise, baby. i’m not. just…want a bit more of your attention?”

for the rest of the day he vows not to touch his phone, only taking it out once to cancel all the half-formed planned when he’s in the bathroom of a restaurant. the ring stays in his pocket, burning against his thigh.

by their penultimate day george is fucking sure he’s jinxed. the ring comes with him everywhere they go but then how is it possible that every time he tries to propose something or the other goes wrong? 

they have a hectic day of travelling and she’s too tired to do anything but order room service and sleep or he can’t find the right moment to do it, can’t think of the right words to segue into it. by their penultimate day he’s frustrated, huffy, silently stewing. so much so that even she can tell something’s wrong with him despite his best attempts to hide it. 

“should we…go for a walk?” she suggests just around sunset, a little timid. “there’s this little street by our hotel i saw yesterday, cherry blossoms on both sides. i think it would be nice.”

halfheartedly, he says yes and intertwines his fingers with her as they walk out of their hotel and onto the cosy streets outside. on any other day, this would have been one of the prettiest things he’s ever experienced—strolling down a beautiful street with the love of his life while the world is doused in golden light. but his frustration trumps everything.

“is something wrong?” she asks suddenly. her voice quivers. 

for such a pretty street, it’s utterly empty, devoid of any cars or people or even any occasional stray cats that she loves to stop and pet. 

irritation burns in his chest—not at her, at everything else, this whole trip, one silly situation after the next. “no.”

“no because—”

“can we not talk about this right now?”

she goes quiet at the interruption, eyes wide and confused. george is about to even apologise for it when her whole face changes, goes from confused to determined. 

“no, actually. let’s talk about it.”

“baby—”

“no! you have been distracted the whole time we have been here, something’s clearly wrong and you won’t tell me what it is!”

george gapes at her, but she’s clearly not done yet. 

“i know you’ve been here many times before but it feels like you’ve had a shit time with me—”

“what?! no—”

“because i can tell the whole time, you’ve been preoccupied—”

“oh god, i’ve been trying to propose!” he yells out in the middle of the street. a cherry blossom petal flutters down and smacks him in the face and george looks at his girlfriend’s stunned face. a pit opens up in his stomach. 

he just said that… he just fucking said that. 

the conversation he had with adam months ago pops up in his head. for all the misplaced confidence his friend had in him, george has just gone and blown it all up. exactly what he was worried about. and now that he has started, he can't even stop.

“i’ve been trying to ask you to marry me for days now but something or the other keeps going wrong and i—” he chokes and the rest of the words die on his tongue. 

all the nights he’s spent rehearsing his speech, all the time he spent trying to make it happen, all of it down the drain because he stupidly blurted it out. george stuffs his hand in his pocket and takes out the velvet box. 

“fuck, i’ve carried this everywhere with me and—”

“yes.”

“what?”

there are tears shining in her eyes and for a second he is so sure that this is about to turn into a serious fight. he fucked up, he fucked up deeply. 

and then she breaks out into the most gorgeous smile he’s ever seen, laughing through the tears. “yes. yes! are you kidding me? YES!”

“yes, you’ll…marry me?”

“if you’re still asking…”

he doesn’t even realise he’s crying until something wet hits his nose. there’s an entire storm of emotions in his chest—a whole mixture of nervousness and guilt and glee and oh god so much fucking happiness that he can’t help the wide smile that stretches across his face, can’t help the way a whole swarm of butterflies erupt in his stomach. 

more cherry blossoms flutter down and george laughs along with her. 

“this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. i had a whole thing planned, shit!”

“so do it. ask me!”

and that’s what he does. 

instead of the roses and lights and champagne, george kneels down in the middle of the cherry blossom-covered empty street in the dying light of the sun, and looks up at her. 

he opens the ring box. 

“i love you so much, you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this—oi, stop laughing at me!” to which she just laughs harder and wipes away the tears in her eyes. 

“fuck it,” george curses under his breath, “fuck the speech, just…i’ve been so desperate to hear you say yes. marry me? please?”

somehow between crying and jumping up and down in excitement, she manages to nod and that’s all the confirmation he needs to get up to his feet and kiss her deeply, kiss her till the air gets knocked out of his lungs and he has to step away just a little bit to breathe. but nothing and no one can wipe the smile on his face. 

quickly, he takes the ring out of the box and slides it onto her finger. it fits her perfectly, like it was meant for her and her only. 

yes. she just said yes.

she just said yes after the shittiest proposal in the world. how did he get so lucky?

“that was…utterly shit. sorry i’ve been such a shit boyfriend.”

“fiance,” she corrects with a big, goofy grin on her face. “and are you joking?! that was the best proposal ever. certainly the most memorable.”

“it was?”

she nods again, distracted this time, eyes trained at her ring. the fading sunlight makes it look even more perfect.

“i’d really like to hear it though, the original plan.” 

george shakes his head and takes her hand in his. his thumb swipes over her ring, drawing lazy circles around it until he memorises the feel of it on her finger. the precise shape and size of it. it’s perfect, he thinks. the perfect ring for his perfect girl. 

“let’s go back then,” he kisses the top of her head, “and i’ll tell you all about it.”

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[mynameis-noe-body]

Can you do a young John wick one shot? The reader is a civilian that keeps on running into John while he’s on the job (I.e. they’re a civilian that’s at a museum where he needs to kill someone). From there, they start to bond and he makes a habit of buying the reader gifts but leaves it anonymously. Then the reader, who figures out what’s going on manages to track John and they confess their feelings?

Thank you for the request 🖤 here a drabble for you.

Origami

John Wick × reader

One shot

The Shelley Memorial, Oxford. It was your place. A corner of peace in the chaos of the world. You loved the way the light surrounded it, hugged it, cradling it in a welcoming, warm silence. It inspired in you a love you had never known. And with your books still under your arm, a bag full of notes and your fingers stained with ink, you always found time to visit it, even on the busiest days.

So, that day, you were there. And you didn't expect to find company.

The man didn't look like a student... not even like a professor, to be honest. Sitting in front of the monument, immersed in the vision of it, you observed him. He had a serious, regal face. His presence was imposing, despite his silence. His cold eyes were black, deep, his long, silky hair fell thickly on his shoulders, on his dark jacket. Beautiful, and lethal. Or at least, that's what he conveyed to you. And perhaps it was better to leave... but you didn't have time to turn around before he stopped you.

"You don't have to go" he said.

You stopped and nodded shyly. "I just wanted to read something."

He gestured for you to sit next to him with a wave of his hand. The rough cover of your book, thus exposed, revealed its title. The man, stealing a glance, allowed himself a light laugh. "Poems by Percy Shelley?"

You smiled, blush on your cheeks. “It always seems appropriate.”

A strange energy vibrated in the air when your eyes met. You didn't even know his name, but you could feel the intensity of his gaze in your veins, inside your chest, in the beating of your heart. When you opened the book a handful of notes fell to the floor, and you blushed in embarrassment, starting to get up and collect the mess you made, but he stopped you with a wave of his hand.

"Please," he said, "read."

And you read the poem, softly but loud enough for him to hear you, one word after another.

He was silent. You didn't notice anything... at least until you looked up from the book and realized, to your great regret, that he was no longer there. But he had left a present for you: an origami, folded with one of your sheets. And you smiled.

Over the next few days, you seemed to see that man everywhere. In the coffee shop, sipping your pumpkin latte, in the library, among your stacks of study books, at the restaurant where you stopped to dine from time to time—he was everywhere. Him, and his origami.

It was something that made you smile. He hadn't given you the idea of being a shy man, but by now you were convinced he wouldn't reveal himself. It had been a fortuitous meeting, almost casual, and perhaps to be able to track him down you had to find a way to attract his attention a second time...

So, one evening, you waited for him in the Art Gallery — it was the sunset of an autumn evening, and the museum rooms were almost deserted. His presence invaded the entire room and broke the silence, while you waited still, sitting on the red velvet bench.

You turned and smiled. "You found my origami" you said.

He nodded, sitting down next to you. "I didn't expect you to answer my..."

"Gifts?"

He nodded, with a shake of his head. A man of few words.

With the last origami that he had left you, you had decided to leave him a message. You had written inside it and folded the paper so he could find it. It had worked, evidently.

"I don't know your name."

He smiled. "I'm John."

John. An ordinary name for a man absolutely out of the ordinary.

"Would you like to have dinner with me, John?”

Your cheeks were red, and your heart was pounding in your chest, and he was looking at you as if he could feel all of this by sensing the same emotion. His eyes seemed to shine, for a moment. He offered you his hand. "I would love to" he answered.

You took his hand and followed him, having the feeling that yours was going to be an incredible adventure.

[gabykatttt]

Veneer’s Secret

Chapter 3

Crimp make me some coffee Velvet said groaning with annoyance.

Yes Ms. Velvet Crimp said rushing to make Velvet’s coffee.

Veneer sat down eating his breakfast.

Veneer you’ve been quiet this lately what’s wrong? Velvet said looking at her brother suspiciously.

Oh umm just thinking about the rage dome show that’s all Veneer said still eating his food.

Okay Velvet said waiting for her coffee.

Crimp puts the coffee on the table for Velvet.

Finally Velvet said as she too a sip of coffee.

Veneer had finished his meal and put it on the sink.

Alright sis I’m going to the store to buy snacks Veneer said heading upstairs.

Okay little bro Velvet said.

In the bedroom

Veneer unscrews the cap and gets Floyd out.

What are you doing? Floyd asked curiously.

We’re going out Veneer said putting the troll on the pocket.

I’m getting hungry Floyd said hearing his stomach growling.

Don’t worry I’ll buy snacks in the store okay Veneer said smiling at the troll.

Veneer took a look at Floyd’s body and gasped in horror.

Oh no Floyd you’re getting more pale Veneer said panicking.

It’s fine Veneer I’ll make it Floyd said.

No it’s not dying is not okay Veneer said.

Don’t worry Floyd this will all be over I promise Veneer said.

Thank you Floyd said.

No problem now come on Veneer said.

Okay Floyd said.

Time skip

At the store

Well Floyd what snack do you want? Veneer asked the troll.

Well I want gumdrops Floyd said pointing at the gumdrops.

Okay Veneer said grabbing the gumdrops and place it on the basket.

Alright got the gumdrops all we need is- Veneer bumped into someone.

Hey watch where you going Veneer said.

Oh sorry Veneer I didn’t see you there Veneer looked and blushed.

Oh hi Ritz Veneer said blushing.

Hello Veneer Ritz said smiling.

How are you doing? Veneer asked.

I’m doing good Ritz said.

Say Veneer you wanna hang out at Starbucks I heard they’re selling pumpkin spice Ritz said.

Sure I love too Veneer said blushing.

Okay see you there Ritz said walking out the store.

Bye Veneer said smiling with a blush.

Floyd came out of the pocket and got on Veneer’s shoulder.

Who’s that? Floyd asked.

Umm just a friend Veneer said blushing about Ritz.

Veneer why is your face red? Floyd asked.

Oh it’s just a fever that’s all Veneer said snapping himself out.

Okay Floyd said.

Alright let’s get the stuff we need and hang out with a friend Veneer said.

Floyd nodded his head and went back on Veneer’s pocket.

[bluebird-in-a-cagedrawing]

Nightmare AU part 28

Panel 1

Trisha the hour glass: "Not everybody has control over it, many of us have different colors but it's no use to us.Yes, the color represent us, but do not worry, it's the same as jinx, you can't do much harm with it."

Amstran the moon dancer:" l should go, thank you! We will come soon, there is something we want and it might help us!"

Trisha the hour glass:"Sure pumpkin of course, i will wait for you to come back... Till then, take care!"

Amstran the moon dancer:"Alright, again, this time hit harder and a little bit to your left, Polestar the star sprite!"

Luna the moon demon :"Nishya the dream cat if you want to learn how to win in a sword fight you need to stop being so tense, relax and focus."

Yan-naifu the ghost:"Does anybody want a snack, you should eat something, this is a new receipe."

Faith the head rabbit:"Oh no, not another receipe experiment on us..."

Panel 2

Felix Reddison:" Guys, it's time for a break, who will help me with some orders?"

Polestar the star sprite:"I will, sorry Amstran the moon dancer..."

Sky Coeur the detective:"I have some important news! May I have your attention, thank you!"

Amstran the moon dancer:"This belongs to Donut, where did you find it?"

Lumboo the light ghost:" There it is, the second entry, my old man was a butler here before he died..."

Yan-naifu the ghost:"Are you sure it belongs to her?"

Amstran the moon dancer:"I gave this to Donut as a friendship gesture, i can't believe they got her...i swear if they dare harm Donut..."

Luna the moon demon:"Look i know how important she is but right now it's not the time, we have to move."

Amstran the moon donut: "Donut, where are you? Donut answer me if you can hear us!"

Hester the photo marksmen:"This place has so many rooms, she could be anywhere, i'm taking right and you left."

Yan-naifu the ghost:"I don't think it's a great plan to split up, there are some demons dogs, very powerful."

Le souris bon bon neige:"You don't have to come with us, it's better to stay here and wait."

Yan-naifu the ghost:"Excuse me?I want to help Donut as much as everyone else...I'm not a weak ghost you know!"

Staran the galaxy man:"Star dust galaxy ink!"

Le souris bonbon neige: Ice! Velvet icee storm ignite!"

Hester the photo marksmen:"This dog is bigger than my last one!"

Yan-naifu the ghost:"I told you there were some demons dogs and now a statue because apperently this place isn't bad enough..."

Le souris bon bon neige:"Why this gives me the Harry Potter vibes?I already have a wand where is my letter?"

Staran the galaxy man:"Yes, and i'm sure every broom in the castle is a Nimbus 2001, come on ice mouse, use your spell and make a hole in the wall..."

Amstran the moon dancer:"This mirror is so strange, this house gives me those vibes like this is a nest at some point."

Hester the photo marksmen:" Don't move Doctor Bird, one step and you will feel the blade, now turn slowly, no more tricks!"

Donut:"Amstran the moon dancer is that you? Help! I'm tied up by some chains."

Amstran the moon dancer:"Donut i'm coming, hang on!"

Donut:"Amstran the moon dancer you have found me,i'm so happy to see you...Sorry, i keep getting myself in this situations..."

Amstran the moon dancer:"Donut, it's alright and you are safe now. How did you end up here, did they hurt you?"

Donut:"I don't know, i just got here and no, i'm a smart taugh piece of a donut,they can't harm me...i'm just a bit confused!"

Luna the moon demon:"I think they wanted us to be here, but for what purpose?"

Sky Coeur the detective:" We will think about it when we get out of here.Donut do you know the main path for the first door?The second door is not safe anymore since we had to block it..."

Luna the moon demon:"Where is Hester the photo marksmen? We have to get him too and get out of here now."

Faith the head rabbit:"Great now we all begin to disappear, i better use my time slow power to buy us at least 10 more minutes,better hurry our..."

Donut belongs to @ caprin-mallow 😊

Check her lovely drawings as well 👍

Ok, so now that i made that Harry Potter it's time to sort my ocs in Hogwarts but before that i want to say that i was only 12 years old when i saw the first movie HP amd the Chamber of secrets and i wished that JK wasn't a bad person but she is and i don't agree with her...plus in my country there is a limited Harry Potter merch for exemple rare clothes and books only and i am not that rich to go to London to buy the merch so please no hate for me.

My ocs:

Females *good team

Luna the moon demon: Ravenclaw

Yan Naifu the ghost:Slytherin

Red the fortune teller:Ravenclaw

Nishya the dream cat:Hufflepuff

Dandelion the white flower: Hufflepuff

Rocky Flame: Gryffindor

Trisha the hour glass: Ravenclaw

Elenora the rainbow joy: Hufflepuff

Celena the trophy ice skater: Slytherin

Males *good team

Staran the galaxy man:Slytherin

Hester the photo markmen: Hufflepuff

Le souris bon bon neige: Slytherin

Felix Reddison: Hufflepuff

Sky Coeur the detective: Ravenclaw

Amstran the moon dancer: To be honest i don't know...

Tommie the farmer cat:Hufflepuff

The they/them genderfluid *good team

Lumboo the ghost light: Ravenclaw

Polestar the star sprite:Gryffindor

The cigarette ghost Smoky:Gryffindor

The tiny helpers we see like the bell and so on, all of them are:Hufflepuff

Females *bad team

Melinoë the princess of nightmares: Slytherin

Vanessa the fourth knight: Hufflepuff

Growlian:Gryffindor

Lavinya the lamb servant:Hufflepuff

Feryoni the flower cat muse:Slytherin

Males *bad team

Luciano the candle of secrets: Hufflepuff

Moon on fire: Gryffindor

Clause the king assasin:Slytherin

Doctor Bird:Ravenclaw

Sweet lime: Gryffindor

Duo the ballon prince:Slytherin

Others:

Katelyn:Ravenclaw

Acrylia the sour candy: Gryffindor

Victim 1: Gryffindor

Victim 2 and 3: Slytherin, Hufflepuff

.........

The guard demon dog name is Dooffy, they are 4 of them... Lucky they only found one! Lmao

Part 1 till part 27

I haven't draw for such a long time Donut persona, i'm sorry for such a long hiatus time for the comic... I have not forgotten about you, one of my dear friends...

+ a corrupted Amstran the moon dancer

[headingalaxys-spicy]

I don't know if you've ever done it, but I'd like to see some headcanons for Alpha Alfred and a fem Omega 😳 it could be nsfw or fluffy, it's up to you! Thank you much <33

Me: *On my third cup off coffee* (pumpkin spice or caramel apple is involved)

Alfred: Don’t you think you should chill on the-

Me: Yeah not happening. Here just take this script of unbridled hornyness.

Happy Friday I hope y’all have fun. I’m finally able to write. I’m on my full ass nonsense. 😂

Viewer discretion advised because this is a partial spice post.

Alfred is lowkey obsessed with you and, to some degree, does control you, but nothing that is crazy extreme. Just in terms of where you can be and some of the things you wear (although the latter isn’t highly enforced only sometimes. I.E., you’ll have more dresses and skirts than you’d like, and he’d never let you go alone to a major metropolitan area. Too dangerous. Fem omegas of your stature are pretty, talented, and overall strength-wise extremely weak. You’d be kidnapped in a heartbeat.

He’s also kind enough to not have it be an enforced rule that you have to wear one of the numerous collars that he’s bought for you. Yes, a lot of those said collars are made out of diamonds, silk, velvet, and one with an enticing red ruby in the center. He despersatly wanted to buy you a collar that would tantalize you enough to wear one for him. Even with his baby blues begging you to wear one you’ve still refused.

In his mind: “I’m going to get you Y/N! You don’t know how adorable you’d look in one of these!” He will continue to pout about it for awhile and will playfully attack you with an intense tickle session.

His favorite thing to do to you is pounce on you. (Yes, it annoys you for a few reasons #1, he’s heavy, but also…) Just as you’re about to fall asleep on the couch, he will take this as the perfect time to strike. He wants the maximum shock value out of you. He curls himself around you like a large, warm duvet, and due to his muscles, he feels like a warm, heated & weighted blanket. Once you are in his grasp, he will throw himself off the couch and roll around on the carpet like a rolle polle bug. It’s a nerve-racking experience for 30-45 seconds while he shouts in your ear. (Talk about sensory overload.) You know he does this because he’s excited to see you and loves you. He also does it to get his scent all over you. You were taken, and that’s what he wanted to convey to anyone who interacted with you that you belonged to him. He does spray your clothes, by the way, with his special cologne.

He likes to sit next to you on the couch to whack you with his golden retriever tail. He thinks he’s funny, so he does try to beatbox, complete with thunderous clapping, leg slaps and Alfred even slaps your legs for added effect. You will yelp in pain because he isn’t exactly gentle when he does these things to you. You will have multiple red marks on your skin where he made multiple slaps on your leg while he created his mix tape. He will give you gentle, light butterfly kisses that make sparkles fly up to your gut. You blush. It will look as if a wildfire had swept across your face. He enjoys making you blush. It’s one of his favorite pastimes. His hands will move up your face and caress your cheeks for a few moments, drinking in your flustered face. He will then move to pinching your cheeks and trying to make you do silly faces. His favorite is trying to make loud whale noises…..(Think Dory from Finding Nemo doing her whale call.) You do kick him in the stomach to make him stop.

Whenever there is a storm outside, he likes to have the comfiest fluffy white rug with nice weighted throw blankets that can cool the two of you off if things get too heated. Speaking of things being heated….

He liked to play the song “Lay it Down” by Steelix to start off the steamy session. You’ve become accustomed to this, and you mentally prepare for his aggressive attack on your body.

THE SPICY STUFF

When you start he will remove your clothes to “Kiss me More” He will start by kissing your shins and move upwards to your thinly clothed sweet spot.

It’s a given that you’ll be cream-pied every time the two of you will make love. (It can’t be helped really since you belong to him and depending on the situation you can die if you go too many heats without being knotted in by him.)

It’s a given that you’re ALWAYS sore afterward you were sure it was because the size of his 8 ½ cock and the speed in which he bulldozed into at the pace of “Touch my body” by Mariah Carrey, “Sugar” by Maroon 5, and “Sweet Spot” Kim Petras. As he rhythmically bangs you to the song that's playing, he’s in a state of pure bliss as his claws dig into your soft skin keeping you in place. He shows your pussy no mercy. Only when the music tempo slows so will he. As long as it’s upbeat and fast the pounding on your core will last.

You will feel relief when you heard the song “Slow it Down” by Kim Petras and his movements will soften. He will make slow love to you and try to harmonize his heartbeat with yours as his heated member began to get stuck in your heat and your slick walls began to close in on him. The base of his member swelled to twice his size to complete the knot inside of you. Now that he was fully erect and interconnected to you not a single drop of him would be wasted. You howl out in pleasure encouraging him to continue and proving him with a melody that is easier to listen too than the song that gently played in the room. His thrusts were sloppy and he was coated in sweat, tiny droplets of blood, and your juices.

Alfred is good with getting things done. You only had sex once and you were already showing signs that life was beginning to grow inside of you. He will be overjoyed and spin you in the air. He will smile and smirk at you while his tail is whipping at you with glee. His dick rushed upwards towards the sky causing the buldge in his jeans to become large and senstive.

“Ready to go again?” He kisses your cheek softly to coax you to say yes and sing his name.

“Y/N, Y/N come on you know you want to~” He will lick your cheek and rub his budding heat aganist your entrance, which will only be there for a few more seconds more before he rips it off your body.

From there Alfred will proceed to leave his mating mark on the right side of your collarbone. Mind you this will hurt like hell for a few hours once he sinks his canines into you. Once he does this a lot of your body will be inflamed so he will do his best to maintain a slow and steady pace as not to injure you or give you a long lasting rash in between your thighs due to all the heat, sweat, and friction.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Winter (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

A Fantastic Foursome Christmas Dinner -  dxnhowell

Summary: Dan and Phil go over to Chris and PJ’s house for a Christmas dinner and they end up having a snowball fight!

baby, it's cold outside (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Dan is traveling to his parent’s house for Christmas. There’s a blizzard expected to hit just as Dan’s leaving, but Dan doesn’t think anything of it, not until his car breaks down and he’s stranded. Kind stranger Phil steps in and offers to help Dan.

Bogies, blankets, and Bilbo Baggins (ao3) - ThePinkFizz

Summary: During a particularly frigid spell in January, Dan and Phil both wake to find that they've both inherited some kind of flu. Now, Dan is grumpier than ever and Phil just wants someone to make him tea. Can they both muddle through the sickness and take care of each other?

burnt tongue (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: In which Dan isn't careful with hot chocolate and Phil finds a way to fix the problem.

Ice Cold (ao3) - isonala

Summary: Dan and Phil are on a frozen lake, the same spot where Dan proposed to Phil exactly one year ago. But ice can be thin...

I'm just trying to keep my baby warm through the wintertime. (ao3) - waypast0000

Summary: It's december, Dan and Phil have a lot to do, including buy Christmas decorations and survive winter.

Or

A festive day in the life of Dan and Phil 2017 edition (but without the cameras and much more coldness).

It Started With Snow - thetummyhand

Summary: It snows and Phil wakes Dan up to go play in it, resulting in a snowball fight. Soaked and cold, they retreat inside and get warm and get off by the fire.

Keeping Warm (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan is always cold, especially when their car breaks down in the middle of winter.

Look How Warm You Are (ao3) - ladyanthony

Summary: It snowed during the night after Dan's first day back in Rosendale, so Phil brings him out on a bit of an adventure to explore in the snow.

Love This Light In Winter Time - slightlydizzier

Summary: Kisses in the snow.

maybe I just wanna be yours (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan spends his first New Year's with Phil's family and dreadful fluff ensues.

Midnight Milkshakes (ao3) - thelandofphan

Summary: "Well, this is a different first date," Dan initiated as they began to follow the sodden pathway ahead, "I turned up late, looking like a tramp then we ditched the original plan and now I've stolen your beanie when we've only just met. Sorry." He concluded, sucking his lip nervously, peering towards Phil.

Pumpkin Spice (ao3) - ThoughtaThought

Summary: You remember how I left you on the verge of smut in Chapter 3 of Pumpkin Pride? Here ya go, here's that smut.

Winter 2009 Dan: 18 Phil: 22

Snow (ao3) - Mcusekat

Summary: It snows (heavily) in London and the power goes out, so Dan and Phil have to bundle up and brave the cold together.

Snowday Surprises (ao3) - FandomFeels17

Summary: Snowball fights and kisses, what more could they want?

When the birds stops singing (ao3) - neopold

Summary: Dan hates the winter & Phil burnt his popcorn

When the Weather Breaks (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: Sitting across from Phil on that worn out velvet Starbucks sofa, sharing sickeningly sweet coffees and what they would like to think were hushed giggles, was the first time Dan felt a glimpse at what real love could feel like.

or Perception checks, pining, and peppermint mochas.

you make winter warmer (ao3) - lyricallyharley

Summary: A winter night in the life of Dan and Phil, or alternatively, some gross winter fluff.

[cryptidsurveys]

Saturday, July 6th, 2024.

Do you eat or drink as soon as you wake up, or do you wait a while? I chug a bottle of water directly after waking up. If it's an animal shelter day, then I shower and get ready before making breakfast. If I'm staying home, then I might lie in bed for a while, listen to YouTube, then eventually get up, brush my teeth and all that jazz, then eat.

Tell me about some of your interests. Art, history, outer space, sci-fi, the paranormal, cryptids, conspiracies, philosophy, reading, spending time in nature.

What's your favourite kind of Oreo? Hmm…maybe golden, pumpkin spice, or red velvet.

Do you play any games on your phone? If so, tell me about one. I don't.

Do you have more male or female coworkers? I don't have a "real job," but I do volunteer at an animal shelter. I have almost exclusively female coworkers. There's literally only one male who works there, and I think he's been there the longest out of everyone - like 22 years!

What's the longest stretch of time you've spent completely alone? About a month, while my dad was in the hospital/rehabilitation center after his heart surgery back in 2019.

Do you use Instagram? If so, what's your current profile pic? Yeah. It's just a picture of myself.

What are your thoughts on kids being given iPads to keep them entertained? I think it's okay in moderation, but it shouldn't be a child's sole source of entertainment. This might just be my nostalgia taking over, but I'm truly grateful that I grew up during a time when life wasn't dominated by screens. Sure, I watched cartoons and played video games, but I spent so much time outside, with friends, reading, exploring, creating, or just within my own imagination. I couldn't imagine being a kid today.

[TW: SUICIDE] Have you ever thought about giving up on life completely? Yeah.

Have you seen the entire Harry Potter series? I have.

Do you still have both of your parents? Yes. I reconnected/reconciled with my mom last summer after nearly a decade of being estranged, and my dad and I continue to have a strong bond.

Do you play video games? No.

Do you have the same color eyes as your mother? They're similar, but not exactly the same.

Have you ever been put to sleep for surgery? No.

Have you ever had a pregnancy scare? No.

When was the last time you went bowling? Not since I was a teen.

Do you personally know anyone who is transgender? I'm transgender. I don't think I know anyone in person (not that I'm aware of, anyway), but I know a couple of people online.

When was the last time you spent over $100 in one transaction? What did you buy? Last Wednesday. Groceries, toiletries, and cat stuff.

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? Would you judge a grown adult for doing so? I don't, but I wouldn't judge anyone for doing so.

Would you describe yourself as fashion-conscious, or do you just wear whatever feels comfortable? I just wear whatever feels comfortable. I'm definitely not a fashionable person and never really have been. I mean, I had some sort of ~style~ in the past, but now I'm like…whatever.

What are the main two colours in the room you’re currently in? Did you pick these colours out yourself? White (walls) and teal (carpets). I didn't pick them.

Do you have piercings anywhere except your ears? How many and where? Snakebites.

What’s your opinion on leggings as pants? I prefer baggy pants, but when it comes to other people, wear whatever you want.

Who was the last person you were in love with for more than a year? An ex.

Do you have a secret life? No. However, I am extremely guarded/private IRL and don't like to let people in much more than necessary. I've been back at the animal shelter for over a year now and people really only know the superficial basics.

Have you ever seen the last person you kissed without a shirt? Yeah.

Do your parents know EVERYTHING about you? No, but my dad does know a whole hell of a lot.

Favorite thing to eat with peanut butter? Oatmeal.

If you had to get a piercing right now, what would it be? I don't want any new piercings.

The last time you held a baby: I have no idea.

Does your mom eat meat? Yeah.

What would be your reaction if one of your parents said they were having another kid? No…? You're not…?

What fish scares you the most? Sharks, I guess...? Not that I have much to fear from them considering I live in Colorado.

How do you feel about snails? They're cute.

If you were told by a professional that you were unable to become pregnant, how would that affect you? Is there something important to you about conceiving a biological child rather than adoption? And finally, if you even want to have children, would you choose adoption or surrogacy or would you go on childless? I would be fine with that. I don't want children anyway.

Are you physically affectionate with your friends? No.

Do you kill spiders when you see them? 95% of the time, no. I just let them do their thing.

What’s your favorite makeup brand/brands? N/a.

What fictional creature would you like as a pet? I can't think of anything.

Have any local businesses closed that you’re sad about? The City Diner closed a few years ago and that was kind of a bummer.

How do you feel about TikTok? I don't use it.

Any current trends you dislike? Not really. I don't pay much attention to what's currently trendy. Plus, my city is like 20 years behind the times as it is, so most popular trends don't surface here in any meaningful way. Not among my relatively small social group, anyway.

If you had three daughters, what would you name them? N/a.

Would you ever adopt a child? No.

Do you like your name's meaning? Yeah.

Do you and your mom look like sisters? No. I mean, we do share similarities and you could probably tell that we're related, but it's clear that we aren't siblings.

Are you the same height as your mom? No. She's at least a couple of inches taller than I am.

Do you know anyone named Travis? I don't.

[TW: DOMESTIC ABUSE] Did your parents abuse you? Hmm.

What is something you've learned to never take for granted? My own health and the health of my loved ones (including my cats), days without migraines, stability, a working swamp cooler, having a safe place to live, food to eat, etc.

Tell me about something significant that happened to you in the past week. I can't think of anything especially significant. It's been slightly hectic due to one coworker leaving + a new coworker being hired at the shelter (well, technically she's not brand new because she worked there last summer, but you know), but other than that, nothing of note has happened. It's just an adjustment to the new vibes, is all.

What subjects do you like to read about? Backpacking journals, the paranormal (not like fictional stories, but an assessment of the phenomenon), sci-fi, fantasy, horror, history, etc.

What is the name of the last book you bought? I think it was the Dune series.

If you could change one thing about your home, and money was no issue, what would it be? New carpets (or maybe switch to some sort of hardwood flooring), fresh paint, renovate the upstairs bathroom and kitchen…and that's basically it.

Are there any (obviously fictional) villains you can't help but love? I wouldn't say there are any that I love, but sometimes I can…not necessarily empathize/sympathize (although there are times when I definitely can do that), but I can see why they turned out the way they did. OH WAIT. How did I completely space my past obsession with Vegeta (DBZ)? Or Bakura/Marik (YGO) and Mitarai Kiyoshi (YYH)? Mitarai wasn't even really a "villain," though...just highly misguided and in need of some serious therapy, lmao.

Can you name a villain who you could kind of side with? No. Like I said above, I might empathize or see why they came to a particular conclusion, but that doesn't mean I'd want to join them.

What color eyes does your significant other (or crush) have? (If applicable.) N/a.

Does anything around your home need repairing? Yeah.

[thefvrious]

Jordyn was much younger than Luci and had been through things in a much different way than the older ethereal being. Lucifer hoped to be a beacon of light in their life — to help them adjust to reality being on the outside. He continued to look in the boxes for what whet where when the other spoke. They rushed over to Jordyn and took the velvet pumpkin delicately. "It's home decor. Don't hate on my pumpkins and skulls. They're precious." Truth was, Halloween was Luci's favorite time of year to buy decorations for the home which would stay out year round if he had his way.

Jordyn used to live by th motto of why try to fit in when you were born to stand out but that was before those fucking wings sprouted from their back and everything changed for them. Before this merry little band of people the were surrounded with now, they had to hide so much from people it got exhausting. "Most of the kitchen is done, I have some groceries coming at eight tonight and then I think a majority is just the living room and whatever we're putting in the attic." They were rifling through a box, a confused look on their face as they held up some random velvet pumpkins. "Uh, I think this box is decorations for Halloween? Less we're putting velvet pumpkins - who does this box even belong to?!"

[quietgainsboro-blog]

I pick out the blue raspberry ones to feel closer to you. Reminds me of you that night and the way you say “blue razz”

You intoxicate me.

I pretended I didn’t notice your eyes fixated on me in the dark every time you heard a bass line as if it was pulsating loud as your heart and somehow I was supposed to feel it too.

I’m HSP so my sensitive ass noticed in my peripheral you turn abruptly at me, eyes studying my face, drinking it in, watching to see if my eyes meet yours.

I could make out a smile in the pitch black. I ask you to go for a walk with me around the stadium with me. I had to find one of those machines that dispense power banks. Not sure why I always have to be multi-tasking . was already bored by the opening act. Poppy…you found her annoying as well. I needed to be reading or researching something. Internet addiction.

i learnt that you recall that time to my girlfriend when it was just you and I walking around the stadium….and our conversation perfectly.

flora would come home and report about how you come over and inquire what I was up to today?

or just random personality traits you’d notice about me

“L is so confident!”

“L is so easy to talk to!”

“L is so nonchalant”

Already nursing your third beer. Drowning your pain. You reminded me of me at 20. Pretty mature for 25. Lit Major. Filled with existential dread. My type. Another former actress with depression. Vancouver’s full of them.

Vegetarians I can handle. But i swore I’d never date another model with an eating disorder. Reminds me of Suzanne a model I had a brief thing with. She spelt her name Siouxise like Siouxsie And The Banshees. We’d listen to music in the dark. Siouxsie stopped going to classes. After a while so did I.

what’s with models? The Japanese model was wild. Poor thing. I confused her. Everything she did was excessive. If she found out I liked something the next day there it was and copious amounts of it. She knew how to turn me on. Maybe it’s her voice. Always liked petite girls.

“i could play circles around him.” I thought. They’re playing “Whores” Eric Avery’s wide open bass playing. I’m really just here for Pumpkins playing Cherub Rock. Fuzz tones wanted to hear it in real life, in a stadium.

Cherub rock forever reminds me of my friend Gabe driving us back to LA from Malibu in his jeep. Telling me about the dude from Tool. Justin Chancellor’s new fuzz Wah. Struggling bass player driving Uber. LA is full of them. I’m embarrassed by my privilege. Try to hide my monogram eclipse keepall XS as I exit his jeep.

I pass you my vintage opera goggles. Naked women on stage. Are we at a cabaret?

“Young Billy Corgan is my type” you said

“What would you do if I died ?” You asked me

“seems like something I would write about” you said “bathroom corners & red velvet cake”

All night everything I said you’d say “that’s beautiful” as I’m fucking walking poetry or something.

“Maybe I should be a writer” I said.

“You should”

last time someone said “you should” reminded me of a girl I used to know. I told her I wanted to record her heartbeat and record a song over it.

“that’s her eh”

you ask me “what’s her name?” why?

“I want to put a name to a face.”

“is she a musician?”

i can feel you laser focus and it’s written on your face. Another writer. Just how many writers have you had entanglements with? you’re wondering.

G the poet. Won some kind of award. I had no idea she liked me. Maybe I’ll buy her book. I did notice she watched me from afar as I DJ’ed her party. Eventually came over and gave me several hickeys that lasted a week. The Japanese girls at the party love DJs. I was shocked by the way she hugged me when I ran into her two years later. Then I introduced her to my girlfriend.

you give away the way you feel about me when you always mention that you already expect me to know things about you.

“you know what I like” you’d say

“Where’s the toxic passion?” Oh yeah. are you like “if you’re not obsessed with me I don’t want it?”

“unfortunately. My fatal flaw”

“Yeah I want that kind of love. I’m like that too”

“Right? It’s boring without it”

“Damn we sound crazy”

“Maybe it’s a cancer thing”

“I would NEVER admit I’m like that”

“You just did”

“i expect someone to drop everything they’re doing and come right away. Right now.”

“that’s exactly what I did”

“Yeah you came pretty quickly”

Knowing you wanted to go to Berlin with me I flipped through photos on my phone. Hard Wax. SO36, Bi Nuu, Urban Spree. Accidentally came across one of your boss my girlfriend naked in the shower. You’d never seen her like that. Still looked like a model. Dramatic eyes. flora likes rue de saint honore. She’s not book smart like the type I usually like but she is an intellectual. She is very perceptive. she isn’t trained in music but she recognizes great music instantly.

I daydream what it’d be like to go with you. You’d want to hide out in a hidden speakeasy with me. Lean into me. Berlin, then walk all over Paris.. take you to my fave spots to see if evokes the same as what I feel. we both want to go south of the Seine. I’d pick out a bottle of wine and we’d hide in the hotel all day. I’d feed you strawberries by hand. Best record stores in the 11th arrondissment. You’d prob wear one of my shirts. You like menswear and all black. “Tbh sometimes when you speak it sounds like me” you text me. I’d surprise you by taking you to the Petit Bain. Fly to Koln next. Sounds like a far fetched dream.

I send an article that reminds me of you

“Poignant and true.”

you kept asking me how many years we’d (your boss and I ) have been together. 9 years must seem like an eternity to you.

you’d asked me that night and I answered but I guess you’d had too many drinks. You texted me the same thing again next day when you were sober

the way you talk about your friend shows me the lengths you’d go. Genuinely cares about her. We share stories about how we took care of our friends and their addictions. I show you a photo of Sarah.

“I’m too trusting. It’s always been an issue for me” you said to me.

“don’t ever be ashamed of having a pure and trusting heart, it’s rare” I said to you

“I’ve always been too trusting. Growing up I didn’t have a lot of friends on account of being shy and weird so I just embraced her you know”

as if the number would make you feel more wanted or what ? Less guilty?

Both of us overwhelmed. One night with you left me in a daze for days. Radio silence is how I cope. Scared of the intensity of my emotions. I guess that’s cancer crabs. Neither wants to be the one to initiate.

“meet me south of the Seine” I said

I’ve seen you only all of 4 times in person. You introduced yourself as if I never came into the store and picked you out and said your name.

you answer the phone as if you don’t know who it is on the other end

Not sure if you realize you text me all night til 2am. Guess you like our late night convos.

what if someone is perfect for you in every way but hates the music genre that you specialize in? She must have googled me. Not sure she just likes to press my buttons.

“I like classical music you know. I like Tchaikovsky” you said to me. Trying to impress me. Sipping on my horchata latte.

Bold of you to come up to my girlfriend and tell her “maybe I’ll go to Berlin with L and FaceTime you”

You had a few drinks and told me to pull up to the rowing club. I dropped the piles of records I was moving in my studio and zipped downtown. You say to me “Wanna get out of here?”

i took you to the fairmont pacific rim and you waltzed in and wanted to do blow with me. “let’s get a room!” You’re trouble. You lock eyes with the intensity of ten thousand currents.

You told me you spritzed some perfume here and gestured to your collar bone. My time to be bold. I leaned in to smell your perfume and you laughed nervously. You’re innately shy. Your boldness came from the alcohol. I pulled away.

“Can you bring an iPhone charger?” “What else do you need”

“just that and the will to live” you texted back

“They’re doing blink 182 now”

what song?

“i miss you”

What if she is crazy? I said to Flora Seattle seemed perfect weekend getaway to get a feel for how she travels. Cold cave playing at Neumos . My fave taco place hidden up a stairwell. Hide inside Elliot Bay. Show her off to Nate at Zion’s Gate. He’d be impressed with her enthusiasm and depth of knowledge for dark music. “Got yourself a baddie and she smart too” he’d say.

[homeimgs]

8 Simple Ways To Make Your Home Cozy for Fall

Home Cozy for Fall I can't bring myself to let my financial account suffer for my fall home decor, unlike the holiday season. (However, I will figuratively fork up my whole salary in the cause of channeling Buddy the Elf with brand-new ornaments, twinkling lights, and fresh greenery.) Although I like fall, it always seems to fly by too soon. But I can't let October pass without making a few adjustments to mark the beginning of a new season and get ready for many months of staying in, throwing dinner parties, and enjoying couch-bound movie evenings. I've included eight quick methods to add coziness to your house for the upcoming fall season below.

Home Cozy for Fall

1. Lean into textures and patterns

You want your house to seem airy and bright in the summer. However, it's time to embrace denser textures and richer patterns as fall approaches. For instance, replace your pristine linens with luxurious materials like fake fur, chunky knits, and sherpa fleece. Change plain cushions and blankets with patterned ones (think: moody florals, textured stripes, or old-school plaid). These few adjustments quickly enhance comfort, whether in your bedroom or living space.

Home Cozy for Fall

2. Create a cozy reading nook

Is there anything cozier than relaxing in your favorite recliner while reading a book? By creating your very personal reading nook, you can elevate the experience. There is no need to buy anything new. If you already have these items in your house, all it takes is a little rearrangement! Add a lamp, a small table for a candle and a drink, and an accent chair to the corner, and presto! pristine, pleasant atmosphere.

3. Opt for candlelight

I automatically feel the desire to recreate the Hogwarts dining hall as soon as the temperatures begin to fall. These floating candles, which Mallory of Reserve Home utilized, brilliantly captured that mood and gave candlelight evenings a fantastic twist. Even if you decide against the floating version, you will still enjoy relaxing after work in the dark illumination and glow of tall, tapered candles.

Home Cozy for Fall

4. Bring in layers

The term “fall layers” usually elicits images of jackets and sweaters, but fashion isn’t the only area where we advise layering up. Bringing in additional textures to your home cultivates a cozier vibe that feels warm and inviting. It’ll leave you happy to trade nights on the patio with evenings on the couch. From chunky knit blankets to velvet throw pillows, we can’t help but opt for the “more is more” approach when it comes to fall home decor.

Home Cozy for Fall

5. Add depth with rust and copper tones

Coppery hues give your living area a warm, organic feel while subtly referencing the autumnal color transition. Simple accents like a metal vase, tea kettle, or candlestick holders can add copper finishes, as can choosing rust-colored fabrics for throw pillows, rugs, or tablecloths.

Home Cozy for Fall

6. Swap flowers for autumn branches

Fall is the perfect time to bring the outside in, and there’s no need to spend the big bucks doing so. Just forage in your backyard for a few tall branches of autumn leaves and display them in a vase. Trust me. You’ll feel like you’re roaming through the New England countryside.

Home Cozy for Fall

7. Treat yourself to a new scent

I like to include pumpkin spice into my autumn home décor so that my house is constantly filled with the aromas of the season. What would fall be without a little nostalgia? One of the major memory and nostalgia triggers for us is our sense of smell. If pumpkin spice isn't your thing, choose a mix of essential oils like cinnamon and orange.

Home Cozy for Fall

8. Use seasonal fruit and veggies as decor

Displaying seasonal fruit and veggies when guests come over is one of my favorite tricks to honor the current season—without spending a ton of money. Just keep a basket or bowl full of butternut squash, pumpkins, or apples on the dining table or kitchen countertop. Since it’s something you’ll actually use, you won’t even have to store them away when the season is over.

Home Cozy for Fall Read the full article

[heythere-mel]

Lovefool

Chapter 3: I Can't Care 'bout Anything But You

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

W/C: 1.6K+

A/N: SURPRISE! Ya girl is back with the next chapter in this little series. I haven’t updated in a year (holy shit I am SO SORRY.) but here we are with my fave lovebirds. Happy Halloween to all the homies out there and comments, likes, anything are welcomed. Enjoy bbys! 🎃🤍

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

——-

“I’m gonna marry her one day.”

That little black velvet box was taunting him.

You had just left for work when he decided to give the simple, yet elegant piece of jewelry another glance. He kept it hidden in a small lockbox he still had from when he was in the service, knowing you would probably never look there. Secretly, it’s where he stored anything of sentimental value in. From one of the first little love letters you’d given him, to a movie ticket from your first official date, even a couple of cheeky Polaroids you took for him as a birthday surprise a few months back.

You had been in a relationship for well over two years now. Having made the step of finally moving in together about six months prior, Frankie could honestly say it’s the happiest he’d ever been. He had the obvious approval of the guys, his family adored you, even the señoras at the floral shop he liked to frequent when he wanted to surprise you with a fresh bouquet would ask when he was going to finally pop the question. He knew it shouldn’t have come off as such a challenge, but like everything else he was, in typical Frankie fashion, overthinking it.

“How am I going to do this?” Frankie sighed, running his finger over the precious stone. His phone buzzing on the nightstand pulled him from his thoughts.

“Hello?”

“Hola feo! Hey, we’re at the store right now picking up pumpkins for tomorrow and found these cool stencils to use. Can I buy them or is that considered cheating? You know Ben could use as much help as possible.”

“I’m going to beat your girl in the contest this year Frank!” Benny screams in the background.

“Go ahead and get them. You know he’ll still find a way to fuck it up.”

“Fuck you Fish!”

He laughs at the other man’s competitive nature. You had won the Halloween carving contest two years running now. There wasn’t any big prize involved, but bragging rights and pick of the scary movie you all would be watching that night was incentive enough. (Benny thinks it’s because you’re Frankie’s girl that gives you the advantage. In actuality, he just sucks.) He stares back to the ring as Santiago goes on about the prices of Halloween candy when his eyes go wide.

“Pope! Change of plans! I need you guys to help me with something!”

——-

The next day Frankie is doing his best to keep cool. He’s kept himself busy by cleaning up the house, making sure the little ghost lights you found are strung up around the patio perfectly, even bringing out the couple of plastic tables you would be using and setting them up with assorted carving tools and paints.

Honestly, anything to keep from having to face you for too long, he was doing.

Frankie knew he had some time so he quietly went through his plan one last time. You, on the other hand, were busy picking out the perfect design for your pumpkin. You told him it’s not about winning, but thinking back to the little smirk on your face when you were announced as the winner again last year and Benny smashing his pumpkin in a humorous protest was enough to have you wanting that first place spot again.

“Babe! Where you at?”

“Outside hermosa!”

You step out to the back patio and gasp at the setup.

“Frankie! This looks so good!” you praise as you run up and give him a quick peck.

“You like it?! It was a bitch untangling those ghosts so it better look good.”

“Ugh, handsome and he knows how to string up lights? You’re gonna fuck around and get yourself wifed up Morales.” He stiffened momentarily by your choice of words before shaking his head and cracking a smile.

“Oh! Help me pick out a picture for my pumpkin!” you pull out your phone and enthusiastically start swiping through the selected photos. “Should I do the witch flying on a broom, or this werewolf howling at the moon?”

“Should you even be showing me your design? We are competing against each other too cariño.”

“Are we though?” your left eyebrow arching in question.

“Wow, that hurt.” his faux wounded expression making you giggle.

“Hmmmm, they’re both great options but do you think you can finish something that elaborate tonight babe? It’s timed too, remember.” He knew you could, but the longer he could distract you later, the better.

“Is that a challenge?!” narrowing your eyes at him and he throws his hands up in surrender.

“I mean, I know you got it in you, but Benny said he’s bringing his A-game tonight, and to watch your ass. I just don’t want you getting too caught up and you don’t finish.”

“Ohhhh, just you wait precioso! I’m not back to back champ for nothing!”

With that final say you run out to finish getting ready, leaving Frankie standing there with a huge grin plastered on his face.

Yeah, she’s the one.

——-

The sun had finally begun to set as you and the boys gathered in the backyard. While you were busy helping Will gather the pumpkins from the house to bring out, Santi and Benny found it to be the perfect opportunity to pull Frankie aside to see how he was doing.

“You ready hermano?” Santi whispered, grabbing him by his shoulders.

“You look like you might yak Fish.”

“Don’t listen to him, you look great! This flannel is nice. Going for the lumberjack look I see.”

“Cállate pendejo. She happens to like it.” Frankie retorts.

“We’re just giving you shit, you know that.”

“I know. I’m just a little nervous.” Frankie mutters as he looks over Pope’s shoulder to make sure you’re still in the house.

“No need. That girl in there loves you. So much so, it’s almost sickening how cute y’all are.”

“Yeah man! And feisty as hell, which is why I love messing with her.” Benny snickers to the group.

“Thanks guys. I owe you one.”

“No problem. Just remember, I call dibs on best man. Ben said he wants flower girl.” Santi throws his thumb back to Benny, nodding in confirmation.

“Deal.”

——-

“Okay, y’all know the rules. We’ve all got an hour to carve, paint, whatever you wanna do to your pumpkin and then we’ll vote. No peeking at other pumpkins until we’re all done. Benny, no smashing your pumpkin when you lose. Sweetheart, take it easy on us this year okay?”

“Can’t promise you anything boys. Good luck hermoso.” shooting a wink toward Frankie who’s seated at the opposite end of the table.

Frankie opts for painting his pumpkin this year. His design wouldn’t necessitate the full hour so he tries to drag it out as slowly as possible.

He grows more anxious by the minute. What if she says no? That’s always a possibility, right? The hour suddenly seems to be passing by too quickly for his liking when he decides to look over. You’re caught up cracking jokes with his brothers, your small pocketknife in your hand for hollowing out smaller sections of your design, and singing along to the Halloween playlist blaring from the speaker. He’s never felt more right about anything.

——-

Will looks to Frankie as the timer is about to go off on his phone. A quick nod and crooked smile signal he’s ready.

“Okay and time!”

The other guys both look up to Frankie with knowing grins on their faces. A small thumbs up from Santi thrown in for good measure.

“Wait! Just let me get this last piece!”

“This is why she wins because she’s still working after the time!”

“I told you it would be too much babe.”

“Hush Morales!”

“Alright, since I’m the oldest, I’m going first.”

Everyone’s attention is now on Will as he turns his pumpkin around. He usually puts up a good fight as well when it comes to this which is why you’re thrown off when you see his final product.

“Will. You carved your name into your pumpkin?”

You were clueless.

“It’s classic.” giving a small shrug. “Pope.”

Santi claps his hands together and quickly turns his pumpkin. A delicate You carved into it.

“You. Guys what’s going on?”

Frankie couldn’t help his shit eating grin as he sees the visible confusion on your face.

“That’s a nice looking you, Santiago.”

“Why thank you Benjamin. You’re up.”

Alright, your main competition. You hadn’t caught on to what the others were doing but if anyone would give you a run for your money, it was Benny.

“Get ready to have your mind blown sweetheart!” turning his pumpkin to display a brightly colored Marry sprawled across the front. Then it clicks.

“Marry. Fra…”

Before you could get his name out you gaze to your left to see your boyfriend turning his pumpkin. The word Me painted in your favorite color with a question mark and cutely drawn ring that glittered for effect.

Frankie’s heart was pounding as he steps from around his side of the table. Setting his pumpkin down gently beside yours, he pulls the box from his back pocket as he gets down on one knee. Your watery smile like a breath of fresh air telling him to go ahead.

“Hermosa, these last few years have been everything to me. You are everything to me. You know I’m not good with words…”

“You’re doing fine mi amor.” bringing one of your hands up running it over his cheek.

“…but would you, will you marry me?”

“Yes Francisco!” Those words instantaneous as he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He places the ring on your finger before you practically tackle him to the ground. The others whistling and cheering from the table behind you.

“You’re gonna wife me up, huh Morales?”

“I had to before I ended up the wifey.” Your boisterous laughter couldn’t be contained. Your smile shining the brightest he’d ever seen it. He couldn’t wait to continue making you do that for the rest of his life.

“Well, I say I won this years contest boys!” Benny exclaims.

“What are you talking about?! If anything Fish won!”

“Did you see how she was speechless at my pumpkin?!”

“Wait, what did you end up going with?” Frankie queries.

“The werewolf. It fit perfectly with An American Werewolf In Paris that I had picked to watch.”

Benny turned your pumpkin around to show the rest of the guys. An audible groan leaving his mouth when he sees the detail you were able to put in, even in such a small amount of time.

“I’m never gonna win this contest again.”

“Hey Ben, your pumpkin was amazing. And since I’m in such a fantastic mood, I relinquish my award to you.”

“OH HELL YES! WE’RE WATCHING MONSTERS INC!”

“Benny that’s a child’s film what the fuck?!” You hear him and Santi bicker as they rush inside to get the film queued up. Will hot on their heels to give you two a minute.

“You sure you wanna sit through that?”

“Let him have it,” leaning in closer to his ear.

“I get my real prize after they’re all gone.”

[charnelhouse]

are…. are we going to get michael myers content…. i am shaking and crying and throwing up pls,,,, i will sell u my soul.

A/N: Michael Myers x F!Reader. This is dark. Probably dub-con/non con. stockholm syndrome. violence. torture. rough sex.

It starts like this -

In the doom and gloom of her latest Halloween, she watches shadows burst open across Haddonfield and its kitschy streets and square-box houses. Sirens squeal flame-hot through the air. There’s a far away scream. The ripple of agony and grief sweeping through the rotting pumpkins and trimmed hedges.

She walks over clutters of leaves, listening to them crunch like shards of bone beneath her heels. She already knows what’s waiting for her at the end of this. She knows that he’s fulfilled his blood-lust and now has his other desires. His other needs.

She gingerly climbs the stairs to her house. Her new purchase. Her mistake as most neighbors would call it.

Why on earth would you buy that one?

Are you crazy?

Do you know? Don’t you understand what kind of house that is?

She does know. She knows all of it. Its gory history. The lore trapped in the floorboards. She strolls through the front door - tossing her keys into a bowl. They jingle in the dead-silence of the entryway. She moves to the kitchen. The house smells like sharp paint and turpentine and -

“Michael,” she murmurs so quietly that it’d be near-impossible to catch. A slip of wind - a velvet exhale from her parted mouth. But he hears it. He always hears her. He always knows exactly where she is and what she's doing. He looms in the shadows - the Shape - in his white mask and dark coveralls that are sticky with god knows what.

This is his house just as she is simply his. A possession. A piece. His victim if she were to ever dig deep enough to give herself that title

She recalls the very night that he finally broke her. She understands - vaguely - that this is Stockholm Syndrome and that this is wrong and terrible and her life is over in all the ways it had once mattered. But that particular night sits inside her ribs - swells with memory and a strange longing. He had come to her a year previous with the sky blooming violet and milky. The crisp wind and gnarled trees and how she had thought she had spotted him so many times in the distance.

It had been a cold autumn.

She had felt him pricking at the nape of her neck. She had heard him.

Waiting. Watching.

A week before Halloween, he had appeared - a ghost - unfolding like a specter in her bedroom doorway. That blank face and giant frame and she had thought - he's too big to be so quiet before realizing who he was -

But he hadn’t wanted to kill her - at least not immediately. He had just wanted her to believe it. He had chained her up for days, looming over her with his height devouring the wan light from her mirror. He had dragged the edge of a kitchen knife across her chest and pressed the flat of it over her heart. He had stared at her as she sobbed and pleaded frantically for her life. The black holes of his mask gave nothing away. Just endless and sightless and barren.

He would leave and then return. Shocking her. Scaring her. His boots caked in mud and what had suspiciously looked like flesh and grey brain matter.

This was the endless cycle of it. Again and again.

And then one night he had lifted his mask to reveal his naked face. She’d been stunned.

Beautiful. Marble. Chiseled. His one bad eye was pale as a fish-belly, but the good one was fog-grey blue. It had reminded her of the brunt of a storm. Her gaze traveled to the fruit-pink lips and then to his furrowed brow and the faint blush burning across his cheekbones. He crouched - his stare pinning her in place - nailing her to the wall. He touched her and she jerked.

He continued.

He traced her jaw with his fingers and then he dug his thumb into her lower lip and he leaned forward inch by inch - a predator stalking toward its prey despite the fact that her vision was clear and she saw what was coming.

He kissed her - insistent and blunt and more like a crash of mouths and teeth. It was wet and hot and clumsy. It blinded her.

She didn’t know what he wanted. She didn’t know what to do, but respond in kind. It had been weeks and she wondered if this was a life raft.

She kissed him back and just as her tongue met his, he stilled. Something deep and ugly rumbled from his chest before she felt pain sear across her belly. She dropped her chin to see a stain darkening the thin fabric of her tank top. He’d cut her. Not too badly, but it ached. Tears sprang to her eyes as she pressed her hand to her stomach. He left her like that. Bleeding and alone on freezing bathroom tile.

It took her several more mind games to realize that everything was always on Michael’s terms. He kept her tied up - only allowing her to use the phone in order to not raise alarm. He fed her and frightened her and occasionally brought her dead things like he was her enormous cat.

Slowly - deliberately - he won.

***

His hands are on her - the smell of him like iron and sweat. He smears red across her forearms before he tugs her hard against his chest. Michael is made up of flat planes and curves - the ripple of muscles and broad shoulders. He is perfect physically aside from the blinded eye. Part of her believes that even that imperfection gives him something - a mistake that seems almost correct to his makeup.

“Michael,” she says again as he rubs against her - the hefty bulge of his cock pushing into her ass. He’s breathing hard, the pattern of it muffled behind the mask.

She doesn’t want the mask tonight - she wants him. But that’s not her decision to make.

He shoves her toward the kitchen - his hand firm at her back before he’s forcing her down over the table. He reaches around her hips to cup her pussy - thumb slipping through her cotton-covered folds. She’s soaked. She’s been wet since she heard the sirens - felt it in the air - heard the panic from the neighbors.

Go home. The streets aren’t safe.

Someone’s been killed. Strung up. Blood everywhere.

There must be a copycat. There must be someone else because Michael is dead.

Michael is dead. Myers is dead. I know. I know. I saw it myself.

But Michael is hot and sweaty against her - his heart thrumming with his adrenaline in the quiet stillness of the room. It’s such a strange scene. The expensive plates and delicate teacups. The floral-printed hand towels. The bowl of fruit that goes flying when she accidentally knocks it away. The pristine beauty of this kitchen that she has worked so hard to maintain is marred by the smear of the Shape. He stands in layers of dirt and grime as he restrains her against the table. She is unsettled by the fact that she wants it - she is desperate for it. She craves him like nothing else. Her body sings for him.

Michael’s hold is unrestrained - brutal, really. His gore-damp fingers all over her - painting her - clutching her pussy possessively because it’s his. Her skin and mind and guts - everything circulating inside her is Michael’s.

She doubts he cares for her. She certainly doubts that he loves her. He’s incapable. But - still - she can pretend. When had broken her so completely the year before - when he’d ruined her - scrambled her head - it was her own tongue crying out: i love you michael i love you i love you please don’t leave don’t leave me here -

He’d pulled her into his arms and let her rest her cheek against his chest. He’d stroked her waist - the hot bare skin coated in him. He’d massaged the marks he’d left by his fingerprints and the chafing of the rope. He’d made soothing, mouth sounds and she’d sunk into him - gone soft and pliant and easy as she breathed his name with wild reverence -

He’d been kind. He’d been gentle. He had seemed like he had cared. She clung to that.

He flips her skirt up as he pins her to the table. The edge is cutting into her thighs and she’s being nearly lifted off her feet. She hears him unzip himself - open up those coveralls that are coated in a thin film of whatever he’d done today. There is the blunt snag of his cock at her entrance. He rips her panties to the side - the brief sting of them digging into her flesh until they give way. Michael cock catches on the rim of her hole before he rears back and then slams forward, sheathing himself to the hilt. She’s feverish and sopping. She’s ready for him, but it still feels as if he’s splitting her in half. Michael is huge. He is and the stretch is something that continues to shock her. She feels as if every rut of his dick will hit the back of her throat - will stab into her heart and she’ll die from Michael fucking her so roughly. He grunts as he draws his hips before sliding in again - boring down upon her with his calloused, blood-slick fingers gripping her hips.

She clings to the surface - nails scraping across the wood. Each thrust jars her upward - forces a whimper out of her mouth. The table creaks and bends. She’s not entirely sure if she can scream - if Michael would allow it since the neighbors could hear. There are cops and ambulances only blocks away. She’s overwhelmed - trying frantically to accept all of him - take all of him. He’s fucking her apart and she bites her tongue to swallow the noise that steadily builds in her throat.

No one can know. No one can suspect who she keeps in this house.

It’s a copycat. It has to be.

It can’t possibly be him. He’s dead.

Michael’s cock continues to spear molten through her - pushing up against her core - her cervix. There’s the echoing squelch of her pussy swallowing him. The rough fabric of his pants grazing her bare skin.

She feels his fingers slide through her folds - caressing the place where he is connected to her. He will tease and probe until she begs him and she knows that he will only make her cum for the benefit of himself - to feel her walls clench and grip him so deliciously tight. His breathing is labored now. His pace grows sloppy.

Her knees are weak and it’s only Michael who is holding her up. If he stepped away, she'd collapse to the floor. His sharp hips barrel into her thighs as he screws her into the unforgiving kitchen table. He continues to trace the seam of her sex - he nudges his thumb over her clit, making her gasp. His other hand palms her ass cheek before digging into the flesh hard enough to bruise.

“Please, Michael,” she pants. “Please. Please. I-I need to - want to -”

He flicks her clit harshly and then slaps it. It does the job. She shrieks - her lower muscles spasming and her cunt fluttering around Michael’s punishing length. He’s quick to follow - a rasping grunt shudders from his hulking frame. There’s the warm bloom inside her that begins to drip as he slips from her raw pussy.

She hears the mask drop to the floor and she knows it’s not over. This is just the beginning. He’s sated that initial hunger - the one that always burns fast and harsh through him after a kill. He’s exhausted himself to a point, but it won’t last long. His hands are on her - his thick forearms banding around her waist as he lifts her against his muscular chest. She peers up at him and loses her breath. His caramel hair, damp with sweat, curls boyishly around his temples. His blue eye scans her face lazily - soft from the haze of post-orgasm. Her lips quirk and she decides to take a chance. She reaches for the knife-sharp line of his jaw, hoping that he will accept her touch.

Sometimes he does. Sometimes he doesn’t.

She knows she’s made a mistake almost immediately. His brow creases and he snatches her hand. He holds it tight enough that it hurts - jostles her bones. It’s a threat. He can snap her wrist and fingers if he wanted. He could crush her head like a melon.

“Don’t,” he warns as he releases her. His voice is low and raspy with disuse. It is always a shock to hear him. A drop of water in this devastating desert of a house.

She longs for him to speak again.

The wind howls outside - knocks against the shutters - scrapes the paint and the screen door. The high-pitched flicker of a wind chime. The sirens are still wailing far away.

He carries her upstairs.

[mxchellesworld]

This is the Bakery Department How May I Help You?

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis; where spencer makes trips to his local supermarket just to see the cake decorator

Warnings; just fluff!

a/n; as a goodbye to my old job and hello to 2k here is this new mini series im starting!! im having so much fun writing i really hope you guys enjoy.

part 2

any feedback is very much appreciated:)

***

It was 9 in the morning and Spencer was rushing into the bakery section of the grocery store a few minutes away from his apartment. It was most convenient when he didn’t want to drive. Which was fairly often.

Being on the road or in the air 50% of the time meant his fridge wasn’t exactly stocked. A quick trip to buy some cereal or frozen meals was done in less than 45 minutes.

But his favorite part was the bakery of course. The small section had gotten remodeled. A few extra feet of space was apparent but what caught his eye were the wide range of colors popping out at him.

A display of different pastries which he swore were calling out to him. Sickly sweet high pitched voices saying “Eat me Spencer!”

Inside a case were cakes of various shapes and sizes. Some were single layered. The basics he figured, with labels reading fudge, red velvet, and carrot. But to the side we’re the more intricate ones. A taller round cake with blue roses roses and a lighter shade piping on the bottom. Another but instead of flowers pastel balloons covered the surface.

On the side he noticed the cupcakes. They held the same creativeness. Plain chocolate but on top sprinkles and a little pick saying happy birthday. Some had coconut shavings on them. But the one that stuck out was the vanilla cupcake with orange frosting on top. It had a little leaf and brown stem, probably the decorators rendition of a pumpkin.

It was magical. With he childlike wonder growing in him, he almost forgot the task at hand. Getting donuts for the team.

He rung the small bell on the side and waited patiently for someone to help. In a few seconds an older lady came into view. Her apron covered in what he assumed was flower and other various kitchenly stains.

“Hello how can I help you?” she chirped out kindly.

“Hi I was just wondering if you had some donuts for today?” Spencer asked fiddling with the strap of his satchel.

“Mhm! Just finished them up, if you give me a few minutes I can have someone put them into the case for ya.”

Spencer nodded along, “That would be great. Thank you so much.”

He stepped back bouncing back and forth on the balls of his heels. The small catalogue with the cake designs catching his attention. Of course he could skim through it in seconds if he wanted but instead he flipped through the pages, taking a mental note to come back whenever it was one of his god children’s birthday. Or whenever Penelope needed a pick up.

The sound of wheels squeaking made him perk up. A tall rack filled with every donut imaginable rolling right past him. The woman pushing it made a quick stop, her head popping out around the corner.

Her voice was as sweet as the doughy goodness she pushed on the rack.

“Good morning,” she said with a soft smile.

Her hair was up in a bun, headband pushing back any hair which could get in her face. She had on the same apron as the other lady except hers was more colorful. What he assumed were icing stains covered the once clean white surface.

If he looked closely he could pin point the same blue shade as the flowers on the cake he had seen before. Somehow the industrial lighting shining down from the ceilings did her wonders, illuminating her hair up like a little halo.

“Morning” Spencer was able to let out softly but at that point she had already walked passed him. He turned and followed her to the donut case.

Putting on a pair of gloves she turned to look at Spencer, “How many did you need?”

“Oh uh just a dozen please.”

He watched as she opened up a box, picking out one of each donut before adding an extra. Not just any extra. Chocolate sprinkled. His favorite.

“That’s 13 donuts,” Spencer said pointing to the box as she sealed it shut.

“Bakers dozen,” she said with a wink, “plus I see you here all the time so if I’m correct that last one is your go to.”

Handing him the box she started on putting the rest of the donuts neatly in the case. The different kinds each on their own row.

He could feel his cheeks go pink. She had watched him before? If it was anyone else, considering his line of work he would feel creeped out.

She was pretty. Angelic even. It wasn’t often pretty girls went out of their way to remember what his favorite breakfast pastries were. He’d like to remember hers too. He would remember anything she’d like to share with him. Perks of the brain, he thinks.

“Well thank you,” he paused searching for her name tag.

She tugged on the small piece of plastic pinned to her shirt, making it sit correctly between the neck of the apron. Y/n.

“And you are?”

“Spencer,” he said with a small quirk of his lips.

“Alrighty, Spencer,” even his name sounded pretty from her lips, “if you ever need some donuts early or at a larger amount feel free to call the department so we can have them ready for you.”

“I will! Thank you so much again," with one last nod, he turned walking over to the registers.

Once he walked out of the store he quickly popped open the lid of the box, pulling out the chocolate donut sitting on top of the others. A hum of satisfaction leaving his lips from the sugary taste.

However nothing was as sweet as the girl from the bakery department. Maybe he'd ask to the team to put him on refreshment duty more often.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Purple Converse

Summary: Little disputes lead to love? And maybe a late-night drive helps reel it in altogether.

Oneshot

Fluff, Mutual Pining, Strangers to Lovers au

Word Count: 2,366

Dino [Chan] X Reader [Mentions: Seungkwan]

Not Requested

[A/n: I have had this in my drafts since last year and have been meaning to finish it. Three days before it turns a year old, and it’s done and published :). Also, I wrote this at different times throughout the year, but it generally takes place in October ig?]

------

Chan never saw someone as stunning as you. When you walked in, it took everything in him to look away. He was doing three double-takes all at the same time. One at his outfit, two at his friends, and three at you. How was he going to survive the night? Well, he is sure not taking this sitting down, he thought to himself. He asks the one person who knows everyone, “Kwan, who’s that?” Seungkwan looks over to where Chan is looking and smirks back at him. “That’s (Y/n). They belong to the co-ed on the other side of town.” Chan nods, “Um,... are they single?” Seungkwan rolls his eyes, “Of course, you’d ask that. And to answer your question, yes, yes they are.” Before Chan has the chance to leave, Seungkwan says, “If I find out you hurt their precious little heart. I'm not talking to you for two months.” Chan smirks over at him, “Doesn’t sound too bad.”

Before Seungkwan can smack him upside the head, Chan moves towards you. He starts thinking of all the ways to start a conversation. When he notices you wearing the same color converse as him, he comes up to your side and says, “Purple Converse hits differently, doesn’t it?” You turn around, and he swears he nearly melts into the floor. You look down at both of yours converse, “It does. It’s nice to see someone else who has good taste in colors and shoes.” He smiles, “Same here. What’s your least favorite brand of shoe?” “Adidas.” “Fair, I’m not a fan of Sketchers.” You gasp, “But Twinkle Toes?!” Chan can’t help but bite back his laugh, and he says, “You have to admit it’s a copy off of our shoes.” You cross your arms over your chest and pout, “Yeah, but Twinkle Toes light up and sparkle!” Chan smirks, “You can’t tell me you wouldn’t buy light up Converse if they came out with them?” You shake your head, “That’s not what I was saying. I was saying that you come into this Fraternity and dare to insult Twinkle Toes.” He shrugs, “I belong to the Fraternity. And I’m sure it’s heard worse. And it was more aimed at Sketchers, but yes, I dislike Twinkle Toes.”

That’s how you and Chan ended up talking on the couch for the rest of the night, moving away from the Twinkle Toes dispute. To different topics to argue about, like what’s the best color, and why is it blue? No, it’s definitely Green! The best texture is velvet. Oh, that fabric makes me want to shrivel up and die, but I guess it’s better than tulle. The worst fabric is tulle; you have me there. The best guitarist? I’d say, Eric Clapton. Any man that proclaims that they are God. Are already ruled out-- And it’s definitely Jimi Hedrix.

--

Chan started up most of the arguments that night. But it seemed more often than not you were winning. As it grew to be two am in the morning, the two of you called it quits until you saw each other again. Not before you guys exchanged numbers, of course.

--

Hey! I was wondering if you wanted to meet up in the cafeteria?

Chan <3: Yeah, I can be there in ten!

Which lightbulb is best?

--

He raced to the cafeteria, throwing on his purple converse and purple cardigan to match. The boys never saw him move so fast, but Seungkwan immediately knew the boy caught feelings.

--[Pov change]--

After grabbing two pumpkin spice lattes from Dunkin, I grab a table for two. I watch over the entrance and wait for him to appear. And when he does, it takes my breath away, ‘was he this good-looking last night? I thought he was beyond cute last night,... But oh,... he’s taking my breath away, omg.’ I wave him over, and he smiles and walks over to the table, and I can’t help but smile back. I tell him, “I wasn’t sure what kind of coffee to get you, so I decided on getting us pumpkin spice for the season and all. Is that okay?” He grins and gives me a nod before he sits down. I smile back at him as he says, “Fluorescent is the best--” I shake my head at him, “Incandescents are--.” He shakes his head back at me, “Fluorescent, not only comes in soft yellow light like incandescent now. But it’s also better for the environment.” My jaw drops, “I did not know they had a soft color! That is cool, but at least an incandescent will keep you warm.” He raises an eyebrow, “And that’s supposed to be a positive? Edison stole his work, you know.”

Chan pats himself on the back and leans back while taking a sip of his latte. He looks me in the eyes and asks, “What’s your favorite color and why?” I go on about (f/c) for a few minutes before turning the question on him. And he tells me, “It used to be blue, but the color purple has been growing on me lately.” I can’t help but laugh and look down to see our shoes matching. He seems to notice it too, and we click them together with a laugh, and I tell him, “I have to agree purple is a pretty good color.” That’s when I ask, “What’s the best food in your opinion?” And that’s how we spent the rest of the evening talking and laughing until the cafeteria closed up.

He offers to walk me home, and I agree, and we talk about various things, like how we miss certain things from home like his grandma’s kimchi. And how much I miss my mom’s cat, we carry on like that until we reach my dormitory. It wasn’t until I was up the steps and in my room that I realized we were holding hands the whole way there. I’m not sure if he noticed it either. At least, if he did, he didn’t mention it. We were so comfortable with each other that skinship just came naturally. And now I’m hyperventilating. I just held his hand?! And I didn’t ask him if he wanted to go on a date with me?! No, because I didn’t pay attention, I was too lost in his eyes and our conversation to think.

--

Chan <3: Hey!

Hey! :)

Chan <3: Are hotdogs a sandwich?

It’s one piece of bread instead of two so,... no.

Chan <3: But don’t you make open-faced sandwiches with pb & j?

You have me there, but I still stand by what I said.

Chan <3: They are a sandwich. Let’s agree to disagree.

…

…

Fine.

Chan <3: Yes!

Is water wet?

Chan <3: I don’t like that…

--5 minutes later--

Chan <3: I just searched it up, and it says it’s a property of water, and it technically isn’t wet.

Yeah, I don’t like that either…

Chan <3: Goodnight!

Goodnight :)

--

I’m bored in College Algebra sitting next to Seungkwan when he asks, “So, (Y/n), how’s Chan and you going?” I gasp, “How do you know about that?” “Honey, there isn't a thing I don’t know.” I blush, “I think it’s going pretty well; I really like him, you know.” He nods, “Well, I know for a fact that it is going well. So, when are you guys going to make it official?” I blush and look down at my purple converse, “I also noticed that you two haven’t stopped wearing that pair.” I scratch my neck, “These shoes are just the most comfortable to wear. We uh held hands for the first time last night.” He grins, “Sure, that’s why you both wear them, ALL the time, even when it doesn’t go with the outfit. Because, that’s something you of all people would do, uh-huh. But alas, that’s my favorite couple!” I squint at him, “I thought your favorite couple was Seungche-” “I’ve moved on. I must endorse the most likely to succeed.” I shake my head at him with a smile playing on my face.

--

Later that evening, Chan texts me to meet him outside my dorm. I rush down, trying hard to conceal the smile plastered on my face. He rolls down the window and waves me over. I wave back and open the door, my excitement clearly showing on my face. “Where are we heading?” He smiles, “For a drive along the coast.” I smile, “Wicked.” He turns on the radio to an oldies station, and I laugh, “I didn’t expect you to like this.” He smiles, “These songs make me want to dance the night away with the love of my life.” I grin, “Yeah,... the love is sweet and sincere.” He nods, and with that, we settle into a comfortable silence letting the music filter through the speakers.

We're two city blocks away when he hits a red light and asks, “What do you wanna listen to?” I smile before I pull out my phone, “Do you mind?” He shakes his head and gestures to his aux cord. I plug in my phone and turn on my late-night drive playlist. He can’t help but smile as the first song comes on, “You like the King of Pop?” I grin at him, “Who wouldn’t?” He smiles brightly over at me, “I like that attitude.” I smile and ask, “Favorite song?” He slows down as he approaches another red, “Billie Jean and you?” “The Way You Make Me Feel,” I tell him, and he asks, “How do I make you feel?” I feel my ears turn red before I tell him honestly, “Giddy inside. I never know what we’re going to talk about next,...” The light turns green, and he waits at the light and turns toward me, and tells me, “I feel the same way.” Before focusing back on the road.

Not too much longer before we come up upon another red light before he looks over and goes, “McDonald’s or Wendy’s?” I scrunch my nose in thought, “While Wendy’s has killer frosties, I’d say McDonald’s is more of a late-night drive type of food.” He smiles, “You have me there.” He pulls into the drive-thru, “What do you want?” I tell him a medium chocolate shake and nuggets would be fine. “Two chocolate milkshakes and a twenty-piece nugget.” He says without a second thought and pulls up to the window. And before I can hand him my card, he already has handed his over to the cashier. When he sees me gawking at him, he winks and goes, “Gotta be quicker next time~.” I roll my eyes, and we wait at the second window. He places the two drinks in the cupholders and hands me the bag of nuggets.

I shove a straw into each milkshake and hand him his at the next red light. After two traffic lights, he parks in front of a turnpike so we can watch the traffic go by, “Do you ever wonder where these people are going? And if you’ll ever see them again?” I nod, “Sometimes, I wonder if the person in the fast lane has to pee or if they have a need for speed?” He laughs, and I smile over at him, “Do you ever see what you think is your friend's car and then end up waving to a complete stranger?” He nods, “It happened to me once when I swore it was Seokmin’s car. And I look over, and I’m waving at a college professor,… It was so awkward walking into that class later that week.” I laugh, and we eat our chicken nuggets and drink our shakes while talking about various things between bites.

He’s driving us back home, and we fall silent as the streetlights flash over the car. And buildings blur past as the speed limit rises, the songs permeating through set a soothing mood. Our arms rest on the middle console, and like before, our hands bump once. And we move away for a moment before we settle back, and they bump again. He stops at the red light, and we exchange a glance before interlocking our hands. And I couldn’t help but feel giddier.

When he goes to drop me off at my dorm, I can’t help but feel a little disappointed that the night has already come to an end. I unclick my seatbelt and look over to see him unbuckling his and opening his door. Before I can even move my hand to open my door, there, he is holding it open for me. I can’t help but giggle behind my hand and step out of his car. He shuts the door behind me and walks with me up to my dorm.

“Well, this is me.” I tell him as we reach my door, and he says, “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you later!” He smiles and goes to walk back the way he came when I let out, “Wait!” As Seungkwan’s words ring out through my head, ‘So, when are you guys going to make it official?' He turns on his heel to face me, and before I can regret it, I ask, “Would you consider tonight our first date?” He smirks, “Only if there are many more to come.” I grin, “Then, a first date it is.” The two of us grin before he turns back around, and as I unlock my door, he goes, “Wait!” I can’t help but smile, “After our first date, aren’t I supposed to kiss you goodnight?” While looking down at my purple converse, I tell him, “Depends on how you view the steps.” I watch as his matching purple set comes into view, and that's when I feel his breath fan my face as he brings my chin up to look him in the eyes. And instead of kissing me on the lips as I had thought, he kisses my forehead. Leaving me wanting more, I gasp, and he smiles before releasing my chin and skipping away. I shake my head with a big smile on my face, already excited for our next date.

[mrs-gucci]

A Beach Day to Remember {Clyde Logan x Reader}

author’s notes: made it just under the wire for this week’s writer wednesday :) it’s a bit different from my usual writing MO, but I honestly had a blast with it and I’m decently pleased with how it turned out, actually. I wrote this late at night while I was half-asleep lol so sorry if it’s a little all over the place! thanks, as always, to @autumnleaves1991-blog for hosting & @clydesducktape​ for helping out! it’s such a great and fun weekly tradition!

warnings: fluff. humor. romance. beach fun. chair wrestling. a quick lil makeout session (nothing explicit). 

no tw’s :)

word count: 2.2k

clyde’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings​ my general taglist peeps!  @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea​  @gildedstarlight​ @mrs-zimmerman @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee @pascalisfairyy​ @I-can’t-draw-faces @ahsoka1 @safarigirlsp​ @babbushka

By some miracle, you’d convinced born-and-raised country boy Clyde Logan to accompany you to Miami Beach for a week. A whole week, you couldn’t believe it. 

And...he actually bought a pair of swim trunks. Sure, they were a West Virginia Walmart buy, but hey, he bought a pair; you’ll take what you can get.

Who was this man and what has he done with Clyde Logan?

He’s never really been to the beach before, Mamma Logan didn’t like bein’ in the sun too long and Pappa wasn’t about to cross her, so this was his first time. 

Your family used to vacation here every year, so you were relatively familiar with the notoriously rowdy town. The first evening and night consisted of you showing a wide-eyed Clyde around Miami’s bustling night life. But, when the sun came up the next morning, he was revving to get down to the beach.

You had to talk him down a bit there at first, convincing him to eat somethin’ for breakfast before spending a whole entire day in the sun ‘cause if he passes out, he’s on his own getting back to the condo.

“I’m gon’ go get changed fer the beach!” He says excitedly, clapping his hands together and doing a little jog over to the dresser the second you two get back from your sidewalk cafe breakfast.

You smile at his enthusiasm, trying to remember the last time you saw him so openly excited and smiley. After only a few moments of thought, you realize that you’ve never seen him quite like this before. But, you’re certainly taking a liking to vacation Clyde.

Both Mellie and Jimmy requested plenty of photos of, and this is a direct quote, “Clyde’s long, pasty-ass legs in swim shorts”, and you’re nothing if not accommodating...

As soon as he steps out of the bathroom, you quickly say “Smile!” and snap a picture of him in his leaf-pattern hunter green trunks. He frowns, striding over to where you’re standing.

“Hey now pumpkin, who’re ya sendin’ that off to?”

You giggle, typing out his sibling’s contacts into your messages. “Nobody...”

His eyes widen when he sees Jimmy and Mellie’s names. He tries to grab the phone away from you, but as he takes it, his palm accidentally nudges the little ‘send’ icon. 

“G’damnit! I fuckin’ sent it to ‘em!”

You’re cracking up as he frantically tries to somehow un-send the message, despite you trying to repeatedly convince him that there’s literally nothing that can be done at this point; the message is permanent.

Almost immediately, the replies begin to pile in and Clyde quickly puts a hand over his face as your phone chimes continuously.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

“‘m never gonna hear the end ‘a this when we get back home.” He groans. “Now they got that picture forever and they’re never gonna stop showin’ it...Oh ma god, they’re gonna put it in our weddin’ slideshow, a-and our future kids ‘re gonna see it, and it’s gonna be shown at ma funeral...”

You laugh, shaking your head as you put your hands on his bare, freckle-painted chest. “Hon, I really wouldn’t worry that much about it. It’ll all blow over in a little bit, I promise. Plus, I now have evidence that you actually came to the beach with me. I have a feeling our future kids won’t believe me when I tell them this story someday.”

Clyde starts laughing, running his hands down the curve of your body before landing on your hips. He pulls you in for a kiss, moving his lips gently against yours.

Your face scrunches when he starts licking into your mouth and the bitter taste of zinc overwhelms your taste buds.

“Mmmm, mmm, Clyde?”

He pulls away, brows furrowed.

“Did you put some zinc on your lips?”

His cheeks turn pink and he looks away bashfully. “Oh, yeah, I did. ‘m sorry, I forgot ‘bout that.”

“It’s alright, no need to apologize.” You chuckle, shaking your head. “I love you.”

He smiles, placing a kiss on your forehead this time, rather than your lips.

“Love ya too, pumpkin.”

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

Clyde’s like a kid at a candy store when he gets down to the beach, quickly putting the cooler down on the sand and dropping his chair down next to it. The sunglasses sit just above the bridge of his zinc-whitened nose as his head moves around to drink in the sights unfolding before him.

You giggle to yourself as you watch him, setting your beach bag down with the cooler before beginning to set up your chair. But your man quickly jumps in and insists on unfolding the chair for you even though, as you’ll soon find out, he has zero idea how to operate a folding beach chair. To be fair, it was one of those older-fashioned ones that had sustained quite a bit of rust.

“Now, how in the world...?” He grumbles, trying to unfold the stubborn thing. He tries just about every method he could think up, at one point he was trying to use his flip-flop equipped foot to aid in the unfolding process, but he still cannot get the damn chair open.

Eventually, a curious (and very entertained) bystander comes over and helps the two of you out with your chairs, and both of you thank them profusely before finally beginning your day at the beach. Clyde remains standing, continuing to look around at all the things happening on the beach while you lay back and open your book to begin reading.

After a bit of sunning time, you and Clyde head down to the water. You keep your feet in the cool water while he stands further in, little waves crashing mid-calf. He finds a nice shell and runs up to put it back at your little setup while you stay and watch as the natural push and pull of the ocean slowly buries your feet in the sand.

Suddenly, a flesh arm comes on your back and a metallic arm scoops behind your knees, lifting you up as you squeal. 

“Clydeeee!”

He laughs, rushing into the water while holding you bridal-style, water splashing up all over both you and him with each of his massive strides. As soon as he knows he’s deep enough, he starts swinging you back and forth.

“One...Two...”

You’re in a fit of laughter, playfully hitting his chest. “Noooooo! Stooopppp!”

“Three!” Clyde tosses you into the blue-green water of the Atlantic as you screech, a big splash accompanying your collision with the surface.

You emerge a moment later, quickly rushing up and jumping into his arms, causing him to fall backwards into the water. He laughs when he resurfaces and splashes you in the face teasingly, to which you respond by doing the exact same thing.

“No more splashin’!” He says, chuckling to himself at the irony of his exclamation.

You laugh, splashing him one more time. “You’re the one that started it, you goof!”

“Now, let’s not play the blame game, pumpkin.” He smiles jokingly, then wraps his arms around your torso, head nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

Both of you spend a bit more time in the water before heading back up to your chairs to dry off in the sun and re-apply sunscreen. Clyde ends up falling asleep, a few shells he found in the water spread out on the top of his thighs as he snoozes.

Only about fifteen minutes later, you look over and put a hand over your mouth to cover the giggles that come when you see that one of the shells has sprouted some legs in preparation for an escape attempt. The creature begins crawling and he starts squirming a bit at the ticklish sensation, clearly beginning to re-awaken from his early afternoon slumber. 

When his eyes blink open and he looks down, he gasps, launching backwards in his chair. Unfortunately, the old-school beach chair already struggles to hold his massive form, so when he jumps back, the chair gives out and breaks clean in half, sending Clyde back into the sand. 

The poor crab is thrust into the sand, but it’s alright, quickly crawling back towards the ocean. You immediately stand up, trying not to laugh too hard until you know he’s completely alright. 

“Oh my fuck...Clyde! Are you okay, hon?”

He nods, chuckling softly. “’m alright, though I can’t say the same for this here chair, though.”

You giggle, helping him sit back up in the sand. When he’s fully sat up, he’s still smiling and laughing, shaking his head.

“Well, I suppose I owe the condo owners a new beach chair.”

--

A full, active day at the beach has you pretty fucking exhausted when you two finally head back up to the condo around four in the afternoon. You take a quick cat nap while Clyde showers, then you hop in and wash off the day’s sunscreen and sand.

While you’re in the shower, Clyde rifles through his duffle and pulls out a little velvet box, popping it open to expose the glittering diamond ring that sits on a little pillow. He smiles at the sight, knowing that tonight’s the night he’s finally gonna ask you to be his forever.

He’s been waiting for the right moment for a short while now, and after the fun y’all had at the beach today and the sunset beach walk he’s planning to take you on before your fancy dinner reservations later this evening...he can’t think of a more perfect time to do it.

You step out of the bathroom and Clyde scrambles to quickly tuck the ring box into his khaki pants pocket. He smooths his hands over the fabric before standing up, face breaking out into a wide smile when he sees the beautiful sundress you’ve got on.

“You’re so beautiful, pumpkin.” He says, smiling as he walks up to you, hands on your hips. “Always so, so beautiful.”

Your expression stretches into a bright, genuine smile as you get up on your tiptoes for a kiss. “Thank you, Clyde. You look awfully handsome yourself this evening.”

“Oh, well, thank ya, darlin’.” His cheeks grow red as he looks down for a moment, shoving his hands down in his pockets. “So, do ya wanna go on a sunset walk ‘fore our reservations?”

You agree, and the two of you head back down to the beach. His fingers fiddle with the little box in his pocket as you walk along the beach. Soon, you reach an old lifeguards stand, painted in brilliant mint green and flamingo pink colors. The ‘No Lifeguard on Duty’ paint is still visible, even after some seeming wear and tear to the outside of the building. 

The sun’s touching down on the horizon line as he guides you up onto the old structure’s small front deck, and you lean over the railing together as the sun sinks down. 

Your head turns to look over at your beloved boyfriend, admiring the way the sherbet sky reflects off of and compliments his alabaster skin. God he’s beautiful, you think to yourself for what has to be the millionth time in your three years of dating Clyde. He’ll forever be the most beautiful man in your eyes.

He turns to you then, standing up with a shaky hand reaching out to take yours. “Uh, Y/N, there’s somethin’...somethin’ I wanna do ‘fore we head off to dinner.”

You nod, eyebrows furrowing.

“Sure, hon. Are you alright, though? You’re shaking a bit.”

“’m alright, pumpkin.”

Clyde nods and then, he sinks down onto one knee, wobbling a bit as he adjusts to the new position. He steadies shortly after and then, he pulls the box out of his pocket and opens it up, exposing the ring he spent hours picking out for you.

You’re in shock, hands over your mouth as he smiles up at you, tears already forming in his eyes.

“Y/N, I-I knew when I first met ya that you were gon’ be the woman I wanted to s...spend the rest of ma life with. Y-Yer so funny ‘n kind ‘n so, so beautiful; yer just...yer perfect, p-pumpkin.”

You feel the tears beginning to spill out of the corners of your eyes as he continues, tears now running down his cheeks as well.

“I love y-ya more than life itself, Y/N, an’ I...I wanna spend the rest of ma livin’ days on this planet by yer side. Will ya...will ya marry me?”

Time seems to stand still for Clyde, then, his nerves overwhelming and overtaking his entire being. The seconds between his final word and your response are some of the longest and most anxious seconds of his life, but damnit, they were well worth it.

“Yes, Clyde, yes. O-Of course I’ll marry you.” You say, smiling as he stands to pull you in for a passionate kiss.

He’s overjoyed, really, heart racing but in the best possible way. You said yes. You’re gonna be his wife, his Mrs. Logan.

“God, I love ya.” Clyde whispers against your lips, pulling the ring from its place on the delicate pillow. “I love ya so, so much, Y/N.”

“I love you t-too, Clyde.” You smile, holding your left hand out for him to slip the ring onto your finger. It’s a perfect fit, and you immediately pull him in for a hug. “I can’t wait to marry you, hon, can’t wait to become Mrs. Logan.”

He grins widely, pressing another few kisses onto your lips.

“Mrs. Y/N Logan, ma beautiful wife, ma forever partner.”

You nod, sniffling softly.

“Your forever partner.”

[nancypullen]

Pretty

I don’t put much stock in astrology, when I was a teen I’d read my horoscope and embrace it if it was positive or scoff if it was a dire warning or required any soul searching.  Same with fortune cookies.  I believe the ones that say something wonderful is about to happen but toss the slips that offered an omen of any type. Nonsense. BUT, read any description of a Libra (that’s me) and it will drive home the fact that people born under that star sign crave beauty.  We want our world to be pretty.  We want our homes, our gardens, our meals, our lives to be pretty.  It’s true.  “They thrive on making things orderly and aesthetically pleasing. They also crave balance, and they can be equally as self-indulgent as they are generous.”    Is it true? Who knows? I do know that it applies to me - and whether that has anything to do with how the planets and stars were aligned when I was born, I can’t confirm.  I was born under a libra sun with a bad moon rising (if you get that joke-hello, boomer!) and I want everything from my fingernails to my bath mats to be pretty.  It’s almost an obsession.  Here’s the thing, it won’t bother me one bit if your home is filled with mismatched, purple and orange corduroy furniture paired with black velvet paintings of dolphins and unicorns.  It doesn’t affect me, it’s not my space. Don’t care.  But an ugly corner of my home will eat away at my soul.  Isn’t that silly?  I know it is, but I still give the stink eye to a patch of grass that won’t fill in or a throw pillow that isn’t quite the right color or shape that I wanted.  There’s so much in my life about which I shrug and say, “Eh, close enough”, but a napkin that doesn’t compliment the plate at dinner will bother me. Not at your house, only at mine.  I should probably take a pill for that. Anyway, because I have no self-control when it comes to trying to beautify things and that trait battles with my inner cheapskate, I buy stuff like this.

You guys...for less than $10 I turned the grandgirl’s vanity into a scene fit for a Disney princess.

Because it was inexpensive it left a bit to be desired.  I think it’s meant to be snug up to a ceiling, so some of those branches end abruptly.  No big deal, I slapped a bird or a butterfly over the most obvious spots.  We’ll just pretend a storm snapped off the rest.  The decals came on a big sheet without instructions, but they were easy to apply.  The trickiest part was just figuring out what went where.  I stuck all the pieces up with Scotch tape and made sure that it looked right before I peeled the backing off and smoothed it onto the wall.  Easy peasy.  They’re also easy to remove without ruining the paint - you can rearrange if needed.  If you look very closely you can see the edges, but it’s not noticeable on the wall.

The grandgirl will like it, and when she outgrows it I’ll be glad that I didn’t invest a fortune.  And it makes one more corner of my world pretty (deep, satisfied sigh).

Know what’s not pretty?  Parts of the landscaping that I worked so hard on - my double bout with COVID happened to coincide with some scorching weather. Some things were neglected. The hanging basket that I’d been watering every day bit the dust. My beautiful, blue hydrangea, which is also a thirsty plant, looks weak.  The tomatoes are absolutely out of control (bumper crop, but I haven’t done any pruning!).  One tomato plant broke in a storm.  I mourned it and moved on - my main concern right now is my pumpkin plants which are thriving.  Luckily, we’re just a couple of days from August and my attitude is that it is what it is. I snapped this a couple of days ago with my dried up hanging basket front and center and empty planters hanging on the porch railings.

  It kills my Libra vibe, but that’s okay. I’m already imaging those planters filled with autumn kale, mums, and mini pumpkins.  I’m over this summer and won’t waste another minute worrying about summer blooms.  We did pretty good considering we started from scratch. See that front door?  We’re going to replace it.  It’s pretty, but it’s really, really cheap and feels like a toddler in a bad temper could bust through it.  Not that we live in fear of home invasions or FBI raids, but it would be nice to go on vacation knowing that a strong wind won’t blow your door in.  So, what color should we choose? I’d love a pink door, mostly because it would delight the grandgirl, but also as an homage to my Grandma Ethel who had a sweet, pink house.  I’m not sure pink is the best choice for a front door though.  Red?  Charcoal, like the shutters?  A nice, crisp black?  I lean toward black - it would look good in every season, whether the porch in jewel tones for autumn or bright with a Christmas wreath and icicle lights.  Am I putting way too much thought into a front door? Yes.  You don’t even want to know the mental and emotional gymnastics I’m suffering over kitchen cabinet colors.  Oh my gosh, what if it’s not pretty?!? Okay, I’m shutting up. I’m going to go fold some towels the wrong way and stick a gray hanger in the middle of all of my pink hangers in the closet. Isn’t that how allergy shots work? Introduce a little bit of what makes you sick and let the body learn to resist it?  Yep, I’m on it. Just as soon as I straighten that basket and fluff a pillow... Stay safe, stay well, stay wacky. XOXO, Nancy