#tree writes autumn stuff 2022

[itsfeckinwimdy]

Standing By A Bonfire

George Russell x Reader

Reader Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: A bonfire.

Word Count: 0.4k (489 words)

Autumn Drabbles Masterlist

Published: 01/10/2022

The crackling of the fire was all she was focusing on.

The pop noises of the wood splitting as the flames ripped the logs apart occasionally flew through the air. It was a calming noise, hearing the splintering of the timber and the flames dancing before her eyes.

The smoke from the bonfire she wasn’t a fan of, but she had managed to stand somewhat away from the path of the wind, the smoke more so billowing away from her. She knew that even evading its path wouldn’t do much to rid the smell from her clothes and that she would return home later that evening soaked in the smell.

Her eyes were transfixed on the fire, her retinas burning with the heat, but she couldn’t bring her gaze from off it.

An arm slid across her shoulders causing her to jump but bringing her out of her daze. Looking to her left she saw him, his woollen hat covering most of his hair and his ears and the warm smile on his face as he pulled her into his side.

George.

She always felt safe in his arms. Whether that was just a hug or laying with him, she felt safe. Warm. Whole, even. If it was up to her, she would never leave his grasp and would spend hours watching sunsets fade and sunrises begin if it meant she could hold for just another second.

George looked down at her, a small amount of worry filling him. He knew she didn’t enjoy social gatherings, just preferring a few close friends and him at times rather than a sea of people all clamouring for attention. That's why he didn’t want to leave her for too long, but she assured him that she would be okay by herself if he wanted to speak to people.

‘Always the social butterfly’ she would remark every time, and yet he always flew back to her. His flower in the sea of weeds.

“You okay, love?” he asked her. She turned her head as he spoke, eyes meeting his. Adoration filled Georges's eyes. There was nothing as beautiful as her and nothing could ever compare.

He longed to whisk her away, to protect her from anything that would trouble her and yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away from her gaze.

She leant her head against his chest, keeping her eyes focused on his, “Perfect now that you’re here.”

Her own gaze fell back to the fire. Watching the flames dance she felt George lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head, before he pulled her so her back was flush against his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist now.

The two began to sway softly, hearing the cries of the wood burning and watching the embers flicker in the dark sky. And in that moment George knew.

He never wanted to spend a moment without her.

[ipilates]

Summer (left pic) 2022. spring (right pic) 2022

Spring, Summer into Fall

“The secret of change is to focus all of your energy not on fighting the old, but on building the new” -Socrates

Summer is closing, and what a beautiful one it’s been in the uk. Unusually for me I took a little more time off than usual in August, I know it’s a valuable time for me to ‘chew the fat’. I tend to be way more creative in the light, long summer months and I’ve accepted a need to hunker down during winter, it’s all about survival mode and lots of sleep.

But here we are going into autumn, there’s a freshness in the air I adore. Personally, this is my new year, the transition that September delivers feels the right time to bring about any changes after a summer of lazy reflection. Forget New Years resolutions in January, who makes sane decisions in the middle of winter?

This year I have spent more time teaching from my garden studio, it feels right. It’s me and where I do my best teaching. At the home studio I teach privately and small groups of up to three people. We delve deep, get involved with all of the apparatus, it’s bespoke, transformative, healing and I see daily connections, mind, body and spirit.

It’s been a wonderful journey over the last 18 months, thank you Pandemic ;-)

Pilates at Mid Herts

Going back to Autumn 2013. ( I make the best changes around this time ;-), having moved house to Lower Gustard Wood, Mid Herts ( I love trees), serendipity found me our studio right next door! Literally a stones throw, after years of searching for the right space.

I’m super proud of creating a pilates studio that has held so many movement journeys. A safe space/container for me to connect, share, explore and teach. I have grown as a teacher, and most of you have grown with me. The space held me, it held you and I’m so grateful for the energy we created together at Mid Herts.

This year I invited Jo and Clair to come on board and share the space as I was being pulled to my home studio. They cherish it as much as I do, so it was an easy, natural transition. I can see them flourishing on their teaching journey and i’ts an honour.

So it feels right to me that they now hold that space. I am handing over the studio with love and hope that it can continue to flourish and heal. BUT! (I am keeping a few mat classes going so its not a final goodbye in that sense!) it’s just that lockdown made us all reevaluate, and personally I felt the need to simplify, recalibrate and evolve.

Working on a more personal level is my thing, holding and managing my own space is valuable to me. Having control and adaptability and less overheads feels safe.

I am working on writing, creative projects, teacher training/mentor programs and remaining very open to the next phase of my journey what ever comes about, my heart is open.

So it is with such gratitude to you all for being part of this incredible story, some of you ten plus years! I have actually thanked the space, I thanked her for holding me, for helping me to find my voice, to grow, to heal and find you.

It’s about the connections we make in life, I’m truly blessed.

i-Pilates HQ

So, apart from a select few mat classes remaining at MH, you’ll find me mostly here at home with Audrey staying true to the work, as ever committed to Pilates, welcoming you to my healing space.

What’s working well are my duo’s and I’m currently developing 3:1 studio lessons, All lessons here are bespoke to you, even if you are partnering up.

I’m just working on memberships / payment plans etc / timetable all the stuff I’m useless at but need to get my head around, patience please!

More importantly….

We move, we breathe, we find sanctuary and a moment in our day to quieten the mind, to pause and notice.

Heaps of love and gratitude💛

Jen

“What's dangerous is not to evolve.”-Jeff Bezos

[davidjjohnston3]

7.24.2021'Reflections of a Russian-Romantic-Orthodox-Post-Soviet Obstetrician / Aspiring Catholic-Post-Reformation-Unified-Church Pediatric Neurosurgeon (Divider of Freak-Conjoined Child-Brains) cum. Bethlehem College and Seminary M. Div. Global Studies + Savior of Worldwide North Korean Studies + Policy  + Final Flaming Sword Destroyer of Democrat Intellectual Arrogance, Child-Hate, God-Hate and Anti-Korean Racism' Flaming swords that divide people, change the world, change souls... Russia's determination to remember tragedy as well as mercy and a spirit of gentle adoption whereby they treat students and other young people much different from what I did; also Russian anti-Nazism - everlasting I imagine - in an age when respect-me-or-die attitudes, moral purity, intellectual hubris and Scientism, messianic corporatism and much else are either being accelerated or badly necromanced as everyone tries to settle every little score (an easy way to forget all the starvation, organ-harvesting, betrayal of human promise that is going on every second).  I'm only writing this because it's 7:08 in the morning and it's easier to write than not to write.  Lately I developed the habit of 'Holding the Dream' to paraphrase the title of a Nora Roberts novel about children that I tried to turn in to 'Project 521' in a gentler time.  I read a C.S. Lewis essay though I forget which one, perhaps 'Home,' about being known.  When I read this essay at night it reminds me of a more trusting whole time as does Knausgaard's 'A Time for Everything' whose title is a joke at several levels; a book I'll finish reading, if I even finish 'Autumn' which is my favorite work of his about an unborn daughter, a 'notebook-letter-bouquet' which is a genre I appreciate.For a while I felt I was close to greatness and that my mind and heart were in unison with those I most respect around this globe such as Chancellor John Piper with respect to abortion-culture - playing God - but no matter what I say this is a Maoist era in which power has to be backed by guns or other 'hard' resources.  I was also compelled or perhaps tempted to provide background for my spiritual development which in retrospect attracted 'assassins' who were only interested in cherry-picking my worst moment. I honestly came to feel that there is some 'unconditional evil, unconditional hatred' in some that makes them - no matter how nobly they speak or how hard they worked in the past - determined to destroy something at the end rather than build something or help someone or do what they said they would do.I wondered if I blasphemed someone or something so that God allowed the Prince of Darkness through these people, every professing Christians or family-members.  People are talking about spirit and intellect and insight but forget that Lucifer has all these in abundance.  I've had some delusions and kept responding to people outside of myself.  I learned a lot about people whom understanding was without purpose or profit as a) telling them to themselves, that their expectations were wrong or criminal or sadistic or nihilistic or of the party of 'the protest of ultimate futility' - the messaging whereby someone says ultimately nothing matters or you don't matter - was never going to alter their mindsb) this increased experience of human / spiritual evil didn't really constitute increase of knowledge, wisdom, understanding but only more 'CCP-esque pimp-love lie-fare gas-lighting brain-damage; brick to the head' or to put it more gently a wrong emphasis of factors which distorted mood or disposition as an orchestra with good rehearsal, preparation, and conductor could be eroded in the wrong hands over time, and people were just trying to wear me down in a 'Bleed France White' war of attrition against everything I've tried to be and do  I also realized of late the time had come to give up certain perquisites that I had had in mind to one day gain or 'help myself to.'  At the bottom of my soul I guess I always wanted to cash in; someone else on FB after the miraculous sparing of my life in 2012 started spreading around an experience that I had had with a student in 2012 which was nothing like the K-wave NC-17 version could have been the CCP deepfake character-assassination pretext for WW3 or Covid unrestricted biowarfare against white guys.  Words can't fly back in to the mouth that once let them out and at this point I have no idea what my legacy could be - or in a way hopefully no one even cares anymore although I suspect they keep some version of the story somewhere for a dinner-party IDK why I am saying this; you can reason with some people / try and teach them but if they have no compelling reason to change they might just savage youI wondered lately whether some people really believe.  They want life but their interpretation / understanding or imago of life - who knows?  'Tomorrow will be like today only more so' (Isaiah, mutatis mutandis).  They might love life or hate life but they want it and they also often don't care where it comes from, which is part of why right now the debate over social justice or the fact that so much in the United States comes from outside of the United States, or the fact that poor Millennials et al. are often still unable to get married and have children while Boomers ride emperor-on-palanquin- style on top of the Social Security system and reproach us for believing, like the title of a novel about Shanghai, 'What We Were Promised' at the breakfast-table or in (public, Democrato-Maoist-intellectual-town-bike-fruitbasket) schools about freedom, self-esteem, magic - world peace, nuclear disarmament, the 'salvation' of the natural environment, outer space, technology, non-traditional families, racial reconciliation, international adjudication of breaches of international law and esp. enforcement of human rights.  It struck me several times in recent months and years that the rulers, the sovereigns, the princes and great captains of the nations I admire such as Israel and Korea were often either a) special forces soldiers (such as Moon Jaein, Ehud Barak)b) human rights lawyers (Roh Moohyun, Moon Jaein again)c) spies (the individual who might actually have closest to total control of world-events right now; or at least the ultimate veto of everything and everyone, with variable selectivity and specificity / detail) I don't know if I was overreacting or what; I was comfortable with my 'modest income' from mental illness and felt adequately justified since I was engaged in respectable activities; I felt I hadn't really had a moment's rest in life since I was about 4, constantly shot at, judged, abused, thrown to wolves etc. and blamed for my own problems since I 'didn't "make" daddy____.'   I even believed I had a chance to re-emerge since everyone amid Covid appears to be essentially on the same side.  Before recent events I event felt an 'FDR-moment' / 'New Deal moment' was feasible under Biden though I now see clearly I believe that JRBJr. can't control his underlings, staff, et al. as FDR was able to do; and America and the world are simply too complicated.  Vladimir Putin was saying - and he doesn't always lie - basically that constitutional democracies are too weak.  Neoliberal+ shills, 'Wahh bureaucracy, Milton Friedman, grist for our mill, cliche, cliche, eat the poor, abandon the weak, post-partum-abortion, God is dead' but a lot of these people are part of a bureaucracy as well and Russia's got government bureaus, CCP does, Korea does.  Anyone who ever loved or admired Confucius or studied China knows - though many such as Ezra Vogel and Tu Weiming and some dumb-ass Australians and Indian-Singaporean pervert this knowledge for pleasure and profit - what can be achieved through sincere, spiritual, loving, reverent, educated, talented, qualified, also beauty-loving, statecraft.I guess the only question in a way is whether Microsoft themselves have nuclear weapons or Google built the guidance-systems or something and that's not an LRB title though if I had lived a purer life to this point I might be on staff there or at least they'd welcome me in the cake-shop.  Howbeit at this point my 'last wish' is kind of to die in Korea where they journalists are NOT affected or mercenary, and the rag-picking of ppl like me is not fake or ultimately egocentric / meretricious / simulacrum or sham-virtue (again I hate to talk about Nietzsche since I wanted to move on to just David Platt, Saint Augustine, John Piper, John MacArthur, global Christianity 2022).  Korea's also, I noticed, a country where the Covid body-account appears to be honest and I know for a fact, as Dr., Prof, much else Eric Feigl-Ding has been talking about on Twitter about 25 hours a day, a country in which the Democrat mentality of 'you got sick you're stupid' or the Milwaukee mentality of 'you got sick bypass watch you die joke at bar but we're still good Christians South Park Satan must be good to be evil sometimes' isn't in effect and people have resolved to do everything they can both to prevent and to mitigate as well to contain or pocket though no one wants to talk much about that.  Like I said the other day I wish I were in Korea; I also had a dream about one of those free-standing station-stops in rural Japan that reminded me of 'Cafe Lumiere' by Hou Hsiao Hsien and a conversation I had with Prof. Ban Wang fmr. Rutgers and last I checked Stanford about how Japan had built these intricate rail-systems in order to help preserve rural culture.  Another good film about rural Japan is 'Hanamizuki' although IDK if post-Covid anyone is going to want to talk again about micro-sized kindergartens, the Iraq War, fishing, the meanings of trees, following through on commitments or promises, or returning gratitude and love.  IDK whether the stuff I read over the last 5-10 years about housing-prices in places like rural Japan or, alternatively, Vladivostok are as low as I've read but if they have good internet I might go if only b/c  people there aren't interested in teaching you every lesson or extracting the max. from you then leaving you to die in the name of 'getting to know one.'  There's a short Somerset Maugham book called 'The Moon and Sixpence' though I don't admire Maugham that much and prefer his literary criticism / critical appreciations of other writers and cultures to his fiction but it feels like what some people are looking for today is more like 'huge amounts of money, charming personality, offer we can't refuse, satisfying sexual favor or we either vivisect you or pozz you up with 1st-gen anti-psychotics / kill you with ECT and still deny the exist of God, as well as demons.'My other privileged Millennial friends are all mad at me for not bearing fruit and my 'last love' said I dishonored my parents but Koreans  & maybe they don't get just how much Mark Johnston et al. are totally committed to reversing course at the most destructive possible moments and never paying what they said they'd pay; like how terrorists will sometimes detonate one bomb for the civilians and another for the first responders on the scene - though maybe I just ran out of chances.

[itsfeckinwimdy]

Cuddling To Keep Warm

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Reader

Reader Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: n/a.

Word Count: 0.4k (464 words)

Autumn Drabbles Masterlist

Published: 08/10/2022

The saltwater-stained clothes still clung to her.

Her hair damp from the waves even when she tried her best to keep it away from the water.

Her partner's arms slug around her waist.

And the chattering and low hum of the bar causing a cacophony of sounds in the early night.

Maybe this was what home was meant to be. Shivering slightly from the sea, sand stuck to her skin as those around her had their hearts singing with laughter, her own slipping through the soft smile that refused to slip.

To be stood with her fellow pilots, pushing all thoughts of the next suicidal mission from their minds, and just enjoying the time they all had with each other. The clanging of the billiards bouncing off each other as exclamations from the winning players and betters arose. The money being added to the betting pool, the losers groaning in defeat as their pockets grew lighter and the drinks kept flowing.

The arms around her waist weighing just that bit heavier.

She leant back, feeling his chest vibrate when he chuckled at the jokes flying through the air. His body providing her with the warmth she was so desperately seeking. Her hands resting on top of his.

Her shivers slowed, and her laughter flowed, her head turning and pressing a kiss to his.

He blushed.

She smiled.

He fell in love. He fell so deep that…

He couldn’t put it into words.

That feeling, when you treasure something so much, when it physically pains you to look at anything but them, when you would give them the whole world and more and that would still not be enough, when you would look at them and it feels like everything just- slows.

Where everything stops existing but them.

That’s how Bob felt.

Holding her closer and never wanting to let her go, to just keep her in arms reach and in a blanket of love, to never lose another moment with her, Bob fell in love.

Again, and again, and again.

The weight of his arms grew heavier around her waist.

He loved her that much that he hoped, he prayed that every time she looked at that ring, every time she was absentmindedly twirling it, or every time she clutched it tighter to her, the amount of love he felt for her would just pour out and she would feel it.

And she did.

Because her love for him was limitless. It was-

If she could not love but a single thing in this world, she would choose him every time.

And as her heart and body warmed in his arms that grew just that bit heavier around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder and their fingers interlocked, she knew.

She knew.

[itsfeckinwimdy]

Visiting A Pumpkin Patch

Dream of the Endless, Morpheus x Reader

Reader Pronouns: They/Them

Warnings: uhhh, a nightmare? but not in the nightmare is a being but a dream becomes a nightmare-

Word Count: 0.5k (508 words)

Autumn Drabbles Masterlist

Published: 17/09/2022

The hills kept rolling on past each other.

An endless path of pumpkins surrounded them. It was repeating in a pattern, every fifty or so and the same pumpkins appeared. The dirt under their feet remained intact as they treaded over it. The crows in the distance kept cawing to communicate with each other, some flying over their head attempting to scare them, and other rustling their wings.

Their dreaming mind hadn’t caught onto to the fact the pumpkins were repeating but the crows staring at them was starting to creep into their mind, beginning to invoke fear. The sky started to darken as the fear increased inside them, a rumble of thunder shaking through the dream.

Their footsteps started to quicken. They no longer gazed leisurely at the pumpkins surrounding them. Instead, the feeling of being watched crawled up them, spinning around where they stood, trying to place the feeling, trying to find what was staring at them, making them so afraid.

Their heartbeat quickened. The thudding in their chest was something they could not ignore anymore. The hair of their arms stood up as they stumbled backwards, falling into someone’s grasp.

They struggled in the things grasp, trying to push it off them, before they noticed the hands gripping their forearms. It forcefully turned them around, the panic inside them still building as they locked eyes with the thing.

Their eyes met the dark bottomless pits of the other, their foggy brain beginning to comprehend that they weren’t under attack and that it was just a person.

The man spoke out one word, “Breath,” calming them down as they recognised whom they were with.

Their love was stood in front of them, waiting for their mind to recognise him. They clung to him, their hands grabbing tightly onto his trench coat as they pressed themselves into his arms.

His arms wrapped around them, holding them against him as he changed the aspects of their nightmare. Flushing the dark rolling clouds and allowing the bright sky to appear. Banishing all the crows back to their fields in the dreaming to make use in other nightmares, he lent down, one hand leaving their waist as he cupped her face.

They looked up at him, their eyes now tear filled as they rested their head against his collarbone, his hand moving to hold the back of their shoulders.

“You are safe now,” Morpheus spoke out, his eyes filled with worry akin to that of dog sensing its owner is upset, although his lordship has more relevance to a cat in looks than man’s best friend.

He stood there and held onto them tightly, allowing them to calm and comfort themselves in his arms. Morpheus knew they had to experience nightmares, after all, he created them so people could experience their fears, but it still pained his heart to see them scared like that. He sighed internally, looking at his love in his arms. He would destroy the world for them if it only meant their happiness would be secured.

[itsfeckinwimdy]

Carving Pumpkins

The Corinthian x Reader

Reader Pronouns: They/Them

Warnings: Murder/implied murder, both the reader and The Corinthian are serial killers so yeah, referenced/implied torture.

Word Count: 0.5k (549 words)

Autumn Drabbles Masterlist

Published: 20/09/2022

“When I said I was in the mood to carve something, I didn't mean a person. I was referring to a pumpkin.”

Their face deadpanned as they looked at their... What even was he to them? Their boyfriend? Partner in crime? Situationship?

At this point, they didn't even want to know what the two were, it would cause them too much of a headache to try and work out what the nightmare thought of them. They just sort of were.

The Corinthian just stared back at them with a slight smirk on his face, his hands resting on the trembling man's shoulders. It wasn't like the guy could go anywhere, the rope binding him to the old wooden chair you had just pieced back together. Apparently, the last person was a bit of a fighter which you hadn't predicted, however, it just made it more fun.

“Well, I'm sorry for not understanding human customs just yet, at least not all the seasonal ones," his southern accent drawled out. He squeezed the shoulders of the man, eliciting a few whimpers from the next victim before stepping towards where they were still stood by the now closed door, holding two pumpkins.

“You know sugar," he began, taking one of the pumpkins from their arms, "we could always do both.”

“Sweetheart," they let out a fake gasp, "Are you flirting with me?”

They clasped a hand over their heart, following their lover? over to the countertop where they each placed down the pumpkins they were carrying.

“For you sweet thing," he reached into his blazer and pulled out one of his knives from the holsters, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he handed the knife to them, "I'll flirt with you any day.”

Their eyes flickered between the knife and his signature goggles, hiding the teeth-filled sockets where, they supposed, some baby blue eyes would rest in another life. Clasping the knife, they flipped it in their hand, re-familiarising themselves with the weight of it before grabbing the bigger of the two pumpkins they brought.

They made their way over to the man bound to the chair, the gag in his mouth soaked with drool, his cheeks stained with tears he wept.

“If you," they began, addressing the third occupant in the room who had been neglected from the conversation so far - not that they would have been able to partake in it anyway, "behave for me, then I'll make your death quick-“

The man began to struggle as he had his fate made aware for him, more tears streaming down his face as he shook his head in protest and muffled cries left his lips.

They only rolled their eyes at the man's response, feeling Corinthian's stare on their back, "As it was saying," they attempted to continue, "if you behave it'll be quick. But if you start to protest, we'll just drag it out and pretty boy over there will make cutting your eyes out as painful as possible.”

And with that the man began sobbing, as they lifted the pumpkin to rest on his head, the knife outlining the base to create a hole for the head to fit in all whilst Corinthian stared at the sight, a slight chuckle escaping him at the scene.

[itsfeckinwimdy]

Walking Through A Corn Maze

The Corinthian x Reader

Reader Pronouns: They/Them

Warnings: Being chased/hunted down but it's consensual.

Word Count: 0.4k (436 words)

Autumn Drabbles Masterlist

Published: 13/09/2022

The cold air burned their lungs as they inhaled with each stride they took.

Their thighs screaming from the exertion and continuous running. Their arms and face caked in scratches. The hight of the corn towered over them as they hurdled their way through it. The occasional break in the corn would occur, where the path originally cut through, but they darted across it, praying they weren’t seen.

Why on earth they had decided to flee from him, they had no idea – well they did, but would never admit it to him – but they weren’t going to give up. Unless they passed out of course.

The Corinthian stopped in his tracks on the makeshift path, a grin spreading on his lips. He tilted his head, hearing the corn being disturbed to his left before stepping towards the noise.

Seeing the corn rustling, he readied himself for them to dive across the path, the thoughts of what he would do to them flickering through his mind. Oh, how he would ravish them.

He saw them push break through the corn, their head swivel to each side of the makeshift path, their eyes scanning for him, only for them to lock on him.

The Corinthian could see the fear run through them, as they turned and stumbled trying to get away from him. He began to stride forward, his gaze locked on them, only for them to trip.

Their heart was beating in their ears, knowing they needed to get away. That he was right behind them. That they were about to be captured.

Their footing slipped, forcing them to tumble to the ground, their hands out to brace their fall. They pushed themselves up, hearing the footsteps behind them only for a hand to grab round their ankle and yank them back down.

They turned over, arms flailing, trying to push him off them, only for him to grab their wrists and pin them down, his body straddling theirs.

They submitted to him, his smile growing as he leaned down towards them.

“Got ’cha sweetheart” Corinthian grinned down at them, a sense of pride running through him. He didn’t expect them to be able to run from him for this long, but it had been well over two hours of their game of cat and mouse.

“Is it,” they panted out, trying to regain their breath, “Is it weird I’m kind of turned on?” The Corinthian chuckled in response before leaning down closer to them. His lips ghosted over the edge of their ear, “Oh would you look at that. Hungry for a nightmare. Who would’ve thought.”

[itsfeckinwimdy]

Autumn Drabbles Masterlist

A collection of drabbles and short fics for different pairings based on stuff to do with autumn.

Will be updated once/twice a week throughout September/October.

Click to head back to Navigation

Last Updated: 10/10/2022

5/8 complete. - yes this originally said 14, yes I keep changing my mind.

1 ― Walking Through A Corn Maze

⇥ The Corinthian x Reader (they/them)

➵ Word Count: 436 words

➵ Warnings: n/a? Being chased/hunted down but it's consensual-

➵ Published: 13/09/2022

[Read Here]

2 ― Visiting A Pumpkin Patch

⇥ Morpheus x Reader (she/her)

➵ Word Count: 509 words

➵ Warnings: a dream that becomes a nightmare if that counts?

➵ Published: 17/09/2022

[Read Here]

3 ― Carving Pumpkins

⇥ The Corinthian x Reader (they/them)

➵ Word Count: 550 words

➵ Warnings: Implied murder, implied/referenced torture, kidnapping.

➵ Published: 20/09/2022

[Read Here]

4 ― Standing by a bonfire

⇥ George Russell x Reader (she/her)

➵ Word Count: 489 words

➵ Warnings: a bonfire.

➵ Published: 01/10/2022

[Read Here]

5 ― Cuddling To Keep Warm

⇥ Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Reader (she/her)

➵ Word Count: 0.4k

➵ Warnings: n/a

➵ Published: 08/10/2022

[Read Here]

6 ― Watching horror movies

⇥ TBA

➵ Word Count: n/a

➵ Warnings: n/a

➵ Published: TBA

[Read Here]

7 ― Wearing Big Sweaters (that probably belong to someone else)

⇥ TBA (n/a)

➵ Word Count: n/a

➵ Warnings: n/a

➵ Published: TBA

[Read Here]

8 ― Handing Out Candy To Trick-Or-Treaters

⇥ TBA (n/a)

➵ Word Count: n/a

➵ Warnings: n/a

➵ Published: TBA

[Read Here]