#i love it when he’s ooky spooky!!

[gravehags]

when copia looks even a little bit sinister 🥵

[atinylittlepain]

Apothecary - A Joel Miller Story

joel miller x witchy!reader

Series masterlist

joel becomes curious about the woman running the medicine shop in Jackson, and the strange rumors swirling around her.

warnings | 18+ angst, fluff, spooky ooky stuff

a/n | this was born out of me getting high and rewatching practical magic. i intend to make this a lil universe in and of itself bc i love the idea :)

.............................

Joel stops outside the storefront down the main drag of Jackson. Old license plates have been cut up to create a hodge-podged sign hanging over the door. Apothecary. When he enters, wind chimes tinkling above the door, he thinks that it looks more like a greenhouse than a medicine shop, potted plants clearly tended to with care all over the place. 

“Hello?” Though the sign says the store is open, he doesn’t see anyone around, sidling up to the checkout counter and eyeing the collection of rocks lined up next to the old, rusted-out cash register. He doesn’t have long to muse to himself about how strange the shop is when something brushes quick against his legs all of a sudden, making him let out a hard curse as he whips around in time to see a sleek black cat padding toward the back of the store.

“Sorry about her, Stevie thinks she owns the place.” He’s startled again by a voice, nearly jumping out of his boots when he turns around to find a woman has appeared behind the counter. She’s certainly a sight, old bracelets trailing up both her wrists, and dangling earrings that look to be made out of scraps of stained glass. She’s pretty, if not a little wild looking. He has to clear his throat before speaking.

“Um, I’m sorry. The sign said you’re open.” She smiles, tilting her head slightly as she looks at him.

“Oh, we are! I was just working in the back. What can I help you with?” 

“Maria sent me? She said you’d be able to help– my kid’s got a pretty bad case of poison ivy and, um, yeah. I’m Joel– by the way.” Her smile broadens, warm and bright as she steps out from behind the counter, Joel stuttering into motion as she nods for him to follow her.

“I know who you are, Joel. Everyone can’t stop talking about the Jackson newcomers– welcome– by the way.” He’s a little distracted from listening to her words by the backroom she leads him into, lined with shelves stacked with glass jars full of all sorts of dried plants and thick books. There’s a wide gas range in the back of the room, large bubbling pots on most of the hobs. She glances at him over her shoulder as she flits by to stir the simmering pots.

“This used to be a bakery, way before, if you can believe it. I thought Maria was crazy when she offered me the space. But we’ve made it work.” His brow furrows.

“We?” Just then, that damn cat brushes past his legs again, making him stumble over his feet. The cat leaps up onto one of the shelves, and she chuckles as she strokes its head, smiling at Joel before turning back to the stove. 

Seemingly satisfied with the state of whatever she’s got brewing, she claps her hands together before turning back around to Joel.

“Now then, poison ivy is no fun, huh? Probably get someone in here every couple of days asking for my help with it in the summer. Lucky for you, I’ve got just the stuff to calm it down.” When she passes by him, he gets a deep whiff of something heady, like that incense stuff Sarah liked to burn. Her hands flicker over glass jars, muttering to herself as she grabs a few items. He can’t help the way his eyes graze down her bare legs in her cut-off overalls, smiling when he sees she’s wearing two different colored sneakers. Arms full, she lays out her haul on what looks like once was a butcher's block, her eyes darting up to his as she coaxes him further into the room with a crook of her finger.

“This is witch hazel– it’ll be your kid’s first line of defense to help some of the redness and swelling calm down.” She passes him a small glass bottle full of murky liquid before holding up a little tin.

“Salve made with beeswax from the hives in town and calendula– she can slather this on to help with the itching.” She’s speaking so fast he doesn’t have time to question how she knows that his kid is a she, already holding up something else, a cloth sachet.

“Oatmeal, Sarah can run a bath and soak with this in it– should soothe the itching and calm down the rash in general. I’ll give you a couple of those, you can use them a few times, but fresh is always better.” He didn’t hear the last bit, a ringing starting in his ears at the mention of that name.

“You said Sarah– w-where’d you hear that name?” Her face falls.

“Oh, I, um–” He swallows hard, cutting her off.

“I had a daughter named Sarah– she— passed— when everything– well, when everything fell apart. How did you– how did you know that name?” She sighs, offering him a nervous smile.

“It was just a slip, a lucky guess– or unlucky, I suppose. I’m really sorry, Joel. I didn’t mean to–”

“No, no. It’s, um, it’s fine. Just caught me by surprise is all. Ellie– that’s the name of my kid that’s probably itching herself into a frenzy right now.” Her smile widens just slightly at that, her shoulders coming unwound. He reckons that if it had been anyone else saying Sarah’s name, he would’ve knocked their lights out. But all he feels hearing her say it is an almost soothing sadness.

“Well, in that case, I hope Ellie starts feeling better soon. Oh! I have one more thing for you!” Before he can protest, his hands already full of the little bits she gave him, she slips over to one of the shelves to grab another small tin before coming back over to him.

“Spearmint and lavender– these mountains are crawling with it– mixed up in a balm. Good for back pain.” His jaw slackens.

“How did you–”

“Lucky guess. Lemme know if it helps.” The way she grins at him almost distracts him, almost, but he huffs, shaking his head.

“I can’t take all this for free– it’s– it’s too much.” She laughs.

“Well who said anything about free? I was hoping you’d trade me some of your time for all that.” He squints at her, not sure what she means, and she chuckles at his questioning look.

“From what I hear, you’re pretty good on patrol. Would you be willing to come with me up into the mountains a time or two? It’s peak harvesting time for all these goodies and I could use an extra pair of eyes.” She waves her arm, motioning toward the shelves stocked with plants. 

“That’s all? Doesn’t sound like a–” She cuts him off with another wave of her arm, her bracelets clinking wildly with the motion.

“I know I drive a hard deal, but that’s the best I can do.” By the crinkling around her eyes, he can tell that there will be no arguing with her, even though it’s obviously not a fair trade with the way she’s loaded him up with stuff. He sighs, finally nodding.

“Um, alright then. You just tell me when and I’m your man– I mean– not your– I’m–” while he’s mortified by the way he just put his foot in his mouth, she seems perfectly amused by it, letting out a light laugh that cuts off his floundering.

“Sounds like we have a deal. I’d shake your hand if both of them weren’t full– oh! I haven’t even told you my name, have I?” He shakes his head and she sighs at herself, telling him her name. He rolls it over in his mind a few times as she apologizes for her lack of manners, walking with him back out to the front of the shop.

“If Ellie’s still itching in a week, come back and tell me. I might have something a little stronger that can help.” He nods as she opens the door for him, but before he can step out, the cat is twining between his boots, purring like an engine. He’s never liked cats much.

“Hmm, Stevie likes you. That’s rare, y’know. Very high compliment from little miss.” She grins at him, all warmth and sweetness. Maybe he can make an exception for one cat. She scoops up the cat, nuzzling her chin over the top of the purring feline’s head. He leans against the doorframe, suddenly not too worried about getting home to Ellie who’s probably scratching her skin off right now.

“Is that Stevie, um, as in Stevie Nicks?” That earns him her brightest smile yet. It didn’t take a genius to make that guess, seeing as she’s dressed like she just stepped out of a hippie commune, though Joel supposes that Jackson could fit that description.

“Mmhmm, you a Fleetwood Mac fan?” Truthfully, he isn’t. Not now, and not before. But for some reason, he’s inclined to nod.

“Aren’t you a little young to be listening to them?” She scoffs. He’s honestly not sure how old she is, definitely younger than him, but that’s as far as he can guess.

“They were my mom’s favorite band, and then they were mine– are mine. I managed to snatch an old vinyl of theirs a while ago but I wore it out I played it so much.” She lets out a light laugh, Stevie squirming in her arms. Joel makes a mental note to keep his eyes peeled for records on his patrol shifts, only getting snapped out of his thoughts when she lets out a sigh.

“I should let you get back to Ellie, she’s probably itching up a storm by now. Let me know how that stuff works for her.” He nods, taking one more look at the cat who he swears has been staring at him, before stepping out.

“I will– thank you– really, I appreciate it. And you’ll let me know when you need my help?” She offers him a crooked smile as she nods.

“I sure will. It was nice to meet you, Joel. I’ll see you soon.” 

It must have been his eyes playing tricks on him. At least that’s what he tells himself the whole walk home. Cats can’t wink, right?

…

With summer in full swing, the weekly market in town has moved from the community center outside to the main drag of Jackson, makeshift booths heavy with abundant produce, fresh breads, and other wares. 

Ellie had dragged Joel out with her, poison ivy all but cleared now, and promptly abandoned him to run off with her new friends. He finds himself leaning up against one of the storefronts, quietly watching the comings and goings, always surprised by just how many folks there are in this town. His interest is piqued, however, when he sees a familiar black cat slinking through the crowd. He cranes his neck, watching as the cat stops between a pair of mismatched sneakers. His eyes trail up, seeing her in those same overalls, dangly earrings glinting in the mid-day sun as she looks over a table of produce. 

“You’re gonna catch flies looking like that, brother.” Tommy’s voice startles him, his focus reluctantly pulling away from her to his brother who has sidled up next to him, a smug grin on his face. Joel clears his throat, trying to hide the fact that his jaw really had been hanging on its hinges. Tommy chuckles.

“Who are you making eyes at anyways?”

“I’m not making eyes at anyone. I was looking for Ellie– I lost track of her in this damn crowd.” Tommy shakes his head, his eyes trailing to where Joel had just been looking. By the way his grin widens, he seems to know exactly who Joel had been looking at.

“Maria told me she sent you to the apothecary the other day. That lady’s something else, huh?” Joel glances back over to her, seeing that she’s started wandering along the booths, cat trailing along behind her. 

“What’s her– how– what do you know about her?” Tommy sighs, glancing back at Joel.

“Well, the old Jackson rumor mill will tell you one thing. But all she’s been is a service to the community, really. Was the biggest help to Maria when she was pregnant– helped her through the birth and everything.” Joel squints at his brother.

“And what does the “old Jackson rumor mill” have to say about her?” Tommy lets out another sigh, scratching at the scruff along his jaw.

“It’s silly, honestly. Just a story made up by people with small minds.” 

“So what is it? Just tell me, Tommy.” 

“Some folks around town– they’ve got it in their heads that– well, that she’s a witch.” Joel feels his face go slack at that. Tommy just shakes his head.

“I told you it’s stupid. People just– they think she’s a bit strange, I guess. Though if you ask me, that rumor has more to do with all the wives of Jackson not liking the way their men look at her.” Joel glances away at his brother, finding her in the crowd. But this time, he notices all the people around her, mostly the women, and the nasty way they seem to size her up as she walks by. Joel huffs.

“That’s gotta be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. A couple of ladies get jealous so they start calling her a witch? Seriously?” Tommy shrugs.

“Hey, stranger things have happened. It’s not so hard to believe, not since people started growing mushrooms out of their skulls.” Tommy’s got him there, but Joel still has to shake his head at what his brother has told him.

“I thought you said it’s just a silly rumor.” His brother’s silence tells him more than words ever could, and Joel has to laugh.

“You’re kidding. You actually think that we’ve got a– a witch in town?” Tommy grumbles at that. 

“Look, Joel, I’m not gonna lie to you. There’s been some freaky shit with her– healing people, knowing things that she shouldn’t know, hell, even that damn cat of hers is–” 

“What do you mean– knowing things she shouldn’t know?” Tommy huffs at Joel’s interruption.

“She calls them lucky guesses. All I’ll say is it sure seems like that woman has a lot of luck.” Joel’s breath catches listening to Tommy’s explanation, his mind immediately going back to that day he met her, how she had known Sarah’s name. 

“Listen, the bottom line is, she’s done nothing but good for Jackson with that shop of hers. Whatever she is, she’s a good one. But, brother, I wouldn’t go calling after her.” Joel’s brow furrows, head tilting at his brother. 

“I wasn’t– even if I was– why shouldn’t I?” Tommy smirks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because while the women of Jackson call her a witch, the men of Jackson just call her a heartbreaker.” 

[spookberry]

I used to think of this au type dp fic/comic a lot, and it was entirely spawned by me misinterpreting the line "boys with beating hearts beat a boy buried in the backyard" from the song Friendly Neighborhood Poltergeist (10/10 song i absolutely recommend it if you havent listened to it before and the vibe is like a chill melancholic love song tho not as spooky ooky as that line might lead you to think)

Anyways I don't think I'll ever get around to it so I'll just tell you about it.

Basically, it was from the pov of the A-listers(specifically, Paulina, Dash, Kwan, and Star) after a bullying attempt gone wrong leads them to thinking Dash accidentally murdered Danny. With no one but them as witnesses, they try to cover it up. And that was the part I would think about the most. The anxiety and paranoia that built up amongst them. Star playing voice of reason to keep everyone together and grounded. Paulina being the one that swears them all to secrecy and attempts to pretend it away but looks completely haunted when she thinks no ones watching. Kwan keeps suggesting they turn themselves in, and Dash is in the anger/denial phase of grief constantly lashing out but also scared of himself and avoiding his usual bullying ways. A tumultuous week goes by, putting a heavy strain on the four of them. Its weir, though, no one is looking for fenton. Its like no one even cares what they did. Its like no one even knows somethings wrong, so theyre just waiting for shit to hit the fan.

The next week though, Danny shows up again in class. Just like always. No one is acknowledging he was gone for a week. And he certainly isn't acknowledging that he looks like shit and is hiding an injury right where the killing blow had been.

It was a fun concept though cuz a-lister pov theyre all in a terrible horror film where theyre the bad guys. Meanwhile Danny is like "dang that sucked, oh well just another casual friday in the fucked up life of danny fenton." Cuz like they DID hurt him but them thinking he was dead was just part of his whole half ghost thing and now hes gotta pick if hes gonna commit to the bit or just let them stew in their own guilt for having tried to cover it up.

[rozcdust]

I don’t speak to whores

Pairing: Bonten x AroAce!GN!Reader, QPP Kazutora Hanemiya x AroAce!GN!Reader

Genre: Crack, fluff

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Canon divergent, profanity, ooc, whore behaviour, qpp relatinship, NO ROMANCE, just reader bullying Bonten, vomiting, drinking, taking care of a drunk person, reader has emotional capabilities of a carrot

masterlist

Knuckles rapping on the doors of Mikey’s office, you don’t wait for a ‘come in’ or ‘open’ or ‘fuck off’ or any other response your boss may offer, walking in without a care in the world.

You will, however, soon enough have many, many worries.

“What’s up, boss?”

“We have dinner on Thursday, 9 p.m.” He said from his desk, not raising his gaze from the game he was playing.

“Cool, I’ll schedule that at that one restaurant you like, party of 7?”

“Party of 8.”

“Oh, that spooky-ooky guy I barely see is going too?”

Mikey finally looked up at you.

“No, Mochi isn’t coming, he’s on his honeymoon, but you will.”

You blinked.

“I’ll what?”

“Bonding time.” He merely responded before going back to playing fucking Tetris, as if he didn’t just utter the most horrifying phase in the history of Heaven, Earth and Hell, ensuring your therapy bills quadruple in an instant.

“Boss, is that smart?”

“Bonding with coworkers in a controlled environment is important.”

“You haven’t felt another person’s touch since 2007.”

“Correct, but bonding.”

You stared at him, appalled.

“Boss, I work with feral cats in heat, how the fuck would that be a good idea?”

“Bonding.”

Mikey never looked as kickdroppable as he did at that moment.

Apparently, and according to Takeomi, company dinners are mandatory and you wouldn’t be able to get out of one even if you tried, and tried you have.

Great.

Mikey spreading misery all around, as he does best.

“Have you noticed how all aro ace people dress like whores?” Tora was sitting on your shared bed, his current job of helping you pick an outfit so, oh so tiring, he gave up and chose to just provide random comments from the side.

Which weren’t worth shit, half of his closet was tacky animal print shirts.

“I think that’s exclusively a you thing, but shut it right now, I am angy.”

Kazutora threw up his hands in surrender.

“I have to go to a stupid dinner with stupid coworkers and handle all their stupid flirting and-“ Huffing, you angrily threw the leather jacket off yourself, plopping on the bed and right into Kazutora’s lap.

Kazutora sympathetically patted your head,

“Do you want cuddles?”

“Yes.” Gathering just enough energy to drag yourself up so you were fully seated on him, you buried your face into his neck, his arms immediately wrapping around you. His hair tickled your face, now let out of the bun he usually wore, but it smelled nice, so you allowed it.

“I just want to poison their coffee,” You muttered, pouting when Kazutora chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple as the only response, “They’re so fucking annoying, I swear. I will stab them.”

“Not recommended, sweetheart.”

“Yes, the fuck it is.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-uh.”

“You’ll be fine, babe.” Forcing you to look at him, he peppered more kisses onto your face, the pout on it growing even more, and he couldn’t help but think you look so cute like that.

He laughed at the expression, earning a smack in retaliation.

“You suck, Tora.”

“Come on,” He grinned, too cocky for your liking, “Ya love me. You asked me out first!”

Sighing dramatically, you allow your head to fall on his chest, closing your eyes as you breathed in his scent.

“Truly, what a terrible curse has befallen me, to live with a dumb bitch like you, you stupid piece of shit.”

Kazutora’s grin widened, and before you could process, he whipped out the camera out of nowhere, snapping a picture to probably develop and bully you about it later.

“Love you too, honey. Love you too.”

“Hello, y/n l/n, I’m here with a party of 8.” You already sounded exhausted, and the dinner hasn’t even started.

The smiling receptionist led you to the room you reserved, on the top floor, a rather luxurious dining suite with a beautiful view of the city, absolutely breathtaking and way too fucking cliche.

To be fair, you did ask the restaurant for the most expensive suite and the most expensive dinner they offered.

You were already adding dents to Bonten’s self-esteem, why not do it to their wallets too?

All of the men were already there, their eyes observing you carefully and hungrily, and if you were any less confident in your clothing choice, you would have felt a little unnerved.

Fortunately for you, and unfortunately for your stupid, horny coworkers, Kazutora stuck you in his ‘Dick slaying outfit’, which meant you were wearing exclusively oversized men’s clothing, courtesy of Kazutora’s lanky form and the muscle mass he seemed to keep no matter the fact the heaviest thing he ever lifted was a cat, with the exception of the sluttiest, smallest crop top the entire city of Tokyo has ever seen.

Also belonging to Kazutora.

Maybe his hypothesis that aroace people dressed like hoes was correct.

Kokonoi tried to comment that the outfit wasn’t quite ‘fine dining’ appropriate, upon which you bit back that their job wasn’t fine dining appropriate, which seemed to quickly shut him up.

Kakucho politely told you that you looked pretty, but he also received a glare, even if he hasn’t quite done anything wrong.

As expected while the night progressed, your coworkers were loud, rude and fully insufferable.

You and Mikey seemed miserable both, desperately trying to pretend you weren’t there when Rindou and Sanzu got into a biting argument about who was taller.

They both got a devastating blow to their self-esteem they realised Kokonoi was, in fact, taller than them both, which got them to start arguing about who’s dick is bigger.

You made a mental note to kill them all if they actually start comparing dicks.

To your relief, they didn’t, instead opting out for a few rounds of a poker drinking game with bullshit rules they made up themselves.

Sanzu was, shockingly, the best, barely having to take a sip all night, and you had to admit you found that at least a little admirable.

You just assumed he fried all his neurons a while ago.

Kokonoi and Kakucho, meanwhile, were failing desperately, and your eyebrows furrowed in worry at the speed the two men were forced to drink.

Fucking idiots, the whole lot of them.

You solemnly vowed to yourself that under no terms would you drive any of them to their house.

You were driving all of them to their house.

God fucking damn it.

Some of them had to be shoved out with a boot and a threat of a stabbing, while some, like Mikey, and shockingly, Ran, left the car quite politely.

You were in mid-pondering when will Ran realise you were in fact, driving his car, and, in fact, left with that same car, when you heard rather unpleasant gagging noises, followed by the sound of car doors opening and vomiting.

Thank God you were at the red light.

And Kakucho was the only one left in that damn back seat-

Fucking lovely.

Kazutora whistled from the balcony as he watched you try and fail to drag Kakucho into the apartment building.

“Damn. That is a nice ride- Does this mean I can quit my job and become the trophy husband you always dreamt of?”

You stopped to look up and glare at him, Kakucho’s arm firmly placed around your shoulder as he still dry heaved, face flushed red and his eyes watering.

“Shut the fuck up and help me take him upstairs!”

Kazutora saluted you as the only response.

You will smother him in his sleep.

Eventually, Tora did come and help you take Kakucho up to your apartment, handling the man more gently than you ever would, perfectly gentle and soft-spoken, borderline cooing, he helped the man take off his coat and shoes, before promptly taking him to the bathroom.

Frowning, you kicked off your shoes as well, following the two and finding Kakucho kneeling on the dark tiled floor in front of the toilet as Tora rubbed his back softly.

Your partner, ever the traitor, left as soon as you stepped in, mentioning how ‘It was your job because it was your coworkers’ and leaving you, the least caring person ever, in charge of this mess of a man.

Sighing, and after forcing one of Kazutora’s tiger-themed headbands with ears on Kakucho to keep his hair at least somewhat clean and out of his face, you sat on the floor next to him, considering your next move.

Maybe you should provide some comfort? You really had little in terms of experience with taking care of drunk people, usually, Tora was the only person you ever had to babysit, and he was usually perfectly content with you just hugging him from the back like a koala and holding his hair.

Hm.

Yeah, you’re not getting that close to Kakucho, no way, he probably had cooties.

Rubbing his back should be okay, though.

“There, there, big guy, get it all out- Yep, good job, like that. Want some water?”

Kakucho merely nodded, his throat dry and scratchy, a stabbing headache and nausea scrambling his brains until he could barely think, but water sounded nice.

Your hand on his back was cold enough to be felt through his shirt, and it felt soothing.

Briefly leaving to return with a bottle of water from the fridge, you uncapped it and offered it to Kakucho, who washed his mouth with the first sip, and downed the immediately, chugging it fast enough that you were genuinely shocked he didn’t choke on any and die on the spot.

He, unfortunately, was not able to keep any of it down, his stomach rejecting to hold any and all liquids, but hey, it was worth a shot.

You opted for wetting a washcloth with cold water and dabbing it on Kakucho’s face, one palm firmly placed on his cheek as you rotated it around knowing Kazutora and Baji liked that when they got sick from drinking, always saying it grounds them.

Maybe talking to Kakucho and reassuring him everything is fine will work too, after all, Chifuyu seemed to like it whenever he joined the other two in their benders and ended up requiring care.

Come to think of it, you only really knew how to take care of people based on Kazutora’s, Baji’s and Chifuyu’s needs.

Huh.

Maybe Kazutora was right in his insistence that you need more friends.

Lightly scratching Kakucho’s scalp, you leaned against the wall, gently telling him to hold on in there and that things will work out just fine, not to worry, this horrible state will pass soon enough, cooing that you’ll let him sleep in your bed, no need to break his back on the shitty couch.

What you did not anticipate, however, was for him to hug your leg firmly enough that you were certain he would break your femur, and start sobbing as he buried his face into your thigh.

Your brain short-circuited just in time for Kakucho to start hiccuping about ‘Missing him so much, he let me sleep on his bed when I was sick too, I miss him so much-‘

Yeah, no.

Not your area anymore, nope.

Nah.

Fuck this.

“KAZUTORA! KAZUTORA HANE-FUCKING-MIYA! HE’S CRYING! KAZUTORA, GET IN HERE! YOU KNOW I CAN’T WITH CRYING HUMANS- WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?!”

🔖Taglist (open):

@dilf-city @wakasa-wifey @rinsie @kisekihany @bajifairyy @cryszus @r-xochitl @levistiddies @graythecoffeebean @mukounisuru-gashadokuro @sunahyejin @yamaguccitadashi @minoozi @trashmemebitch @frogtits1 @sup-zfam @whydohumansss @xashiui @bontens-whore @nqctre @lumi-does-some-stuff @hana-patata @hxked @erza-uzumaki @sh4nn @sisnot @nahoyas-nymph @one-green-frog @justrandomlypassing @kio-kookie @haikyuu-simps-assemble @ayhashi @tiredlattes @crown5 @medusalovessnakes @bblyerim @ohnoyouareasimp @sakinotfound @syddisheep @barcelona-sergei @solliver05 @vanillaashakee @gumiwaka @withlovetengen @naorizenin @bontensbabygirl @anahryal @luvjiro (second tag list in the comments!)

a/n: finally reviving this, no idea why i even stop posting it 😭

[coralinnii]

Legend has it... Twisted Halloween series

Behind pumpkin spice lattes and sweet candy, there comes stories of the things that go bump in the night. Legends and myths carry with them stories of those who may or may not have lived to experience it. 

For each character for each day (except weekends) starting today, there will be a short blurb for every student character inspired by a horror trope or legend in the spirit of Halloween month. I will be writing on the spot for every story so the genres (no beta we perish like big people) will be dependent on how the stories end up so even I can’t tell how it’ll be. This is purely motivated by my love for things spooky and/or ooky. I will write warnings for each blurb if needed but I’m warning you now since I love horror stuff, it will not be the happiest of stories. I’m probably not gonna go full dark but this is a forewarning. 

This is the index, but it may change depending on how the blurb will end up. 

Day 1. Silver (ghost!Reader x exorcist!Silver) 

Silver works as a police officer during a hit-and-run trial, and he’s trying to console the victim of the incident. He’s trying his best to convince you to leave before it’s too late.

Day 2. Jack Howl (werewolf!Jack x childhood friend!Reader)

You and Jack were so close as kids but he keeps refusing to have a sleepover with you when you reached high school. Then one day, you found out the reason on your way back one night.

Day 3. Epel Felmier (dream demon!Epel x schoolmate!Reader) 

Your classmate was so confusing. So sweet and demure, but sometimes he seems to turn into someone else, someone with less than good intentions. 

Day 4. Rook Hunt (slit mouthed woman!Reader x ghost hunter!Rook)

You missed the days where your immortal life was easier, when most people run at the sight of you. But, this creepy hunter keeps chasing you!

Day 5. Leona Kingscholar (demon!Leona x demon hunter!Reader)

You get a kick out of debunking ghost stories and haunted places with your disgruntled friend, Leona. Will you ever get to see anything? 

Day 6. Idia Shroud (VC ghost!Reader x Online friend!Idia)

Idia has this unprecedented confidence behind the screen, with fans and friends at his fingers. However, one casual online chat broke his confidence as he say something he can’t take back.

Day 7. Floyd Leech (merman!Floyd x bullied!Reader)

A nobody at school, your only solace was taking in the serenity of the ocean cove away from the big city. However, a dweller has more than happy to show you a part of his world.

Day 8. Vil Schoenheit (Huli Jing!Reader x lover!Vil)

People call you the unrivaled beauties and with rumors of engagement in the air. Vil was prepared to devote himself to his beloved but his old friend Jack warned him that you were not as you seem. 

Day 9. Trey Clover (candy witch!Trey x partner!Reader)

The man from the pastry shop near you was so sweet, also offering endless sweets on your way to work. You were melting in his touch when you two started dating. This was a man who was as sweet and pure as sugar, right?

Day 10. Jade Leech (cannibal!Jade x partner!Reader)

Your husband was always experimenting with every dish he made but he smiles when you take a bite each time so you think it’s no big deal. Afterall, what’s the worst to come of it?

Day 11. Malleus Draconia (dragon god!Malleus x sacrifice!Reader)

Traditions must be upheld, even at the expense of morality as you were lead to what many said was instant death. It didn’t matter to you, you were willing to give yourself to the being of inhuman power.

Day 12. Cater Diamond (imposter!Cater x skeptic!Reader)

Everyone knows him and was just that approachable but not to you. You couldn’t explain the shiver you feel when you lock eyes with him. You only hope he doesn’t notice you.

Day 13. Platonic!Ortho Shroud (medusa!Reader x nonhuman!Ortho)

You were cursed to exist as history’s most hated woman. Your gaze leaves all living beings petrified but all you wished to feel the loving embrace of another once more

Day 13.5. Lilia Vanrouge (grim reaper!Lilia x ex!Reader)

He disappeared after breaking your heart and honestly you were thankful because moving on would be impossible if he stayed. As you almost got rid of him in your heart, you two meet again…and he looks distraught to see you.

Day 14. Ruggie Bucchi (street kid!Ruggie x ???!Reader)

Despite hardships, you and Ruggie never worried so long as you had each other. The two of you look after each other, no matter what. 

Day 15. Kalim Al Asim (bitten!Kalim x survivor!Reader)

↳ sequel

The two of you dreamed of wedding bells, laughing children and boisterous family dinners. Now, the only thing you pray for is to keep hearing his heartbeat.

Day 16. Jamil Viper (Jinn!Jamil x civilian!Reader)

He can’t be here. How can something you can’t even see or prove be here. In your house, in your room, trying to slither into your heart.  

Day 17. Azul Ashengrotto (crossroad demon!Azul x singer!Reader)

He may be greedy but he knows that good things come to those who wait. And the moment the wait is over and you decided to make the deal, it would be worth it.

Day 18. Ace Trappola (ghost bride!Reader x survivor!Ace)

Ace was not a romantic man but he could be for the one. He kept denying it but he was looking forward to your wedding, even dreaming it…even when it was impossible. 

Day 19. Deuce Spade (hitchhiker ghost!Reader x civilian!Deuce)

Deuce couldn’t just leave you alone, shivering in the dark. After all, this road was notorious for car accidents and mysterious attacks. 

Day 20. Sebek Zigvolt (soldier!Sebek x ghost!Reader)

↳ sequel

He was a devoted man through and through. He promised he would return to you and in return, you promised to be here when he does, no matter what.

Day 21. Riddle Rosehearts (Frankenstein monster!Riddle x assistant!Reader)

He was a monstrosity. A freak of nature and you wanted nothing to do with him, even if he was someone you once loved.  

[tinfairies]

You know what I want to see? Aegon with and Addams like character.

I imagine a Gomez and Morticia relationship, but Aegon is on the Morticia role. His short lady wife who is cheerfully boisterous, who challenges people randomly to sword duels and is strangely imune to death and it’s morbid as all hell; who kisses Aegon all over when he speaks Valyrian, who makes him feel Sublime™️ and beautiful and loved, who makes love to him like a “beast unhinged”. It scares him. He wants her to do it again.

And slowly he notices himself becoming a little more morbid too. A little more ooky. Maybe a little spooky… absolutely more open to the concept of death, even if now he is a little more immune to it.

(He found out about that last part when he drank from his wife’s goblet by mistake and it tasted funny. Not unpleasant though so he drank all of it. Asked her later that night what she mixed on the wine, it was good.

It was Tears of Lys)

They would be paired together in an arranged marriage. She was definitely not Aegon's type, but the more he saw of her the more he fell in love.

He enjoyed watching her sword fight, she was talented in the Braavosi style of fighting. She could knock Ser Cole on his ass everytime.

She was always outgoing at parties, dragging him along by his arm to chat with people.

Her whole wardrobe is black, save for a few green pieces she pairs with the darkness.

She often eats black candies from an odd little tin. They smell like medicine, and taste even worse. At least to Aegon, he gets a taste when he kisses her. But his wife loves them.

On their wedding night, she absolutely shocked him. The bed frame cracked from how rough she was. Aegon was nursing bruises for weeks.

She always lays in his lap as he recites his Valyrian, a task he hates but he must be fluent for his position. She stares up at him, and then moves to kiss all over his face as he speaks.

They often shared wine, except when she drank from her black goblet. The wine in her cup was always black an bubbling. One night at a feast, she had hopped off the the long table to go challenge a knight to a sword fight. Aegon looked into her cup, and studied the black liquid. He shrugged and took a sip, bitter and burning the wine was rancid but numbed his throat as it went down. He finished off the glass, enjoying the sensation it left on his body.

Later that night, he had asked what kind of wine she drinks out of that goblet.

"A concoction of belladonna, tears of lys and spider lily."

[ultrastupid]

Do not expect me to post in main tags often, I just had to post all this because Sunny, my love, my chaotic little bird man. I had to share all the stuff I've found and/or screenshotted about him with you all because I'm obsessed to an insane degree. Commentary will be included on stuff. Hit the "read more" for more, LONG POST AHEAD!

Some of the few bits of info we have about Sunny, from Clown's old deleted blog. Things of interest include him being friends with Barnaby, an inkling of what his house looks like and where it would be located, and what puppet type he was. Also, the hidden text on his picture. Keep in mind that "being quiet" was a large theme back in the old Welcome Home lore.

An actual high quality version of the Sunny-getting-grabbed-by-puppet-hands pic, since I've seen too many versions of it looking crusty, along with a high-contrast version of it to show the hidden background details.

Group photos of the OG six puppets. Also where my favorite image of Sunny screaming comes from lol. Of course, can't forget that Sunny's name is upside-down in the second pic, hinting at his nature of being different.

Ooky Spooky™️stuff that happens to have Sunny in it. If there is a smidge of Sunny in it, I save it.

Sunny merch. I don't know what on earth this thing is but I'd buy it /lh Also of course, getting rid of him and all that. Note, I believe Clown when they say that Sunny is truly removed and the removal isn't a part of the story or whatever... I can dream otherwise, though, because man that'd be cool if he was removed on purpose FOR a story point. But again, Clown said he was just removed because he didn't fit into the story and they don't like "hero types" for it.

Wake up babe, the OG Frank ship is here. Franks's phone not having a 3, and also having a 6 on it could have meant something, who knows (Edit, it's their numbers from that one pic, I was tired lol). Also more "behave" and "listen" stuff included as well. Anyways observations aside, I just love how floofy Sunny is in the second pic, it gives me life. It's one of the more polished images we get of Sunny, too.

Screenshot of the text that came with the group picture. Again, "being quiet". I'm sure that people could run with this theme for their fanart and fanfics if they wanted to, since I know beta designs have been getting some comeback.

Some more information on what Sunny was planned to be. Points of interest include confirmation that him and Frank indeed were going to be in a relationship, Sunny being a "hero", and Sunny's purpose involving "blow the whistle", which when you pair it with the "be quiet" stuff and focus on "being quiet" really starts to paint a picture and makes me go nuts over what he could have possibly have done. Add the "you're FREE" and again, more things just fall into place. Anyways, "attributes already covered (bird)" makes me laugh.

Anyways onto the more inane stuff (/pos), Frank and Sunny as Ducktales OCs. Everything about the Sunny pic makes me feral and bang my fists on my desk, because he is SO flaming queer, LOOK AT HIS FACE, HIS BODY LANGUAGE, HIS MOVEMENTS, FRANK'S REACTION, THEY ARE BOTH FLAMING GAYS!!! LOVE, ENDLESS LOVE FOR THESE TWO!!!

And lastly to end this all off, Gay People Jumpscare: Electric Boogaloo 2. Sunny's beak being CONE makes me happy. Frank and him physically so close together and Frank blushing makes me happy. Them explicitly being called gay makes me happy.

These two are so delightful, and I like to imagine that in a canon where Sunny still exists, he's accepted into Eddie and Frank's relationship and it's poly and everyone is happy, THE END.

Thank you for coming to my rant about a scrapped character for something that technically hasn't even started and is a flaming queer.

[lollytea]

in love with the fact the Halloween costumes haven't left (and Hunter's still in his wolf shirt). you'd think the crew would have them change into clothes more tonally appropriate for trying to stop the end of the world and having breakdowns and emotional conversations and personal revelations and catharsis but NOPE. sometimes scary/important shit happens when you are unprepared and aren't dressed for the occasion and you gotta deal with it!! unironically love that. they're KIDS, MAN!

I am so grateful honestly because their costumes fucking SLAP!!! Not an ugly fit in sight. And you're right, it really emphasises just how young and carefree they really are. Just a bunch of silly kids who who were torn away from their silly Halloween party and unexpectedly thrown into this madness.

Because I'm Like This, I've also been thinking a lot about the symbolism of their outfits since TTT aired. I'm probably reaching and none of this was unintentional but it's still fun to think about.

Gus, dressed as Captain Avery, the protagonist of the awesome Human Realm book that helped him cope with missing his Dad. The book with the line "We'll find a way back. We have to." A line that apparently stuck with Gus enough that he immediately made the connection once Hunter said it. I like to think the resilient hopeful tone of Cosmic Frontier was something that helped Gus keep his spirits up.

Not to mention that it's Sci-Fi, something that is so distinctively human. Gus, the boy who has defined himself as a passionate human enthusiast, whose dream is to become an ambassador to their Realm, is gonna shine in the final episode wearing a symbol of all his enduring optimism and passion and imagination.

Willow is a peculiar case. She is, ironically, a girl who was once considered half a witch now wearing a big loud declaration that she is, in fact, a witch in full. And then some!! It's not in the same vein that Luz and Amity are dressed as magic girl-esque witches. Willow's got the whole ooky spooky cackling and spiderwebs kinda witch vibe. Well, to be specific, it's a bit of a witch/devil hybrid.

Like let's get it out of the way, she looks like Evelyn. The stripey tights, the jagged skirt, the fact that her costume was originally meant to be red, just like the witchy cutout that hung above them during the hayride. Although only the last episode will tell if anything is gonna come from this. Maybe it's just a coincidence. But I think it's very interesting that she's dressed as a stereotypical reflection of how the Human Realm views witches/demons. And then there's Belos, a human man who is defined by his black and white perception of witches as the scum of the earth. He believes they're wild, they're evil, they're dangerous, they're monstrous. Which, at first glance, doesn't represent Willow at all. But then FTF happens, and the viewer is reminded that Willow's magic can be unstable. That she can be dangerous. She can be monstrous.

However, there's also that little W patch on her arm, reminding us that she may be a witch but she's also a silly girl named Willow wearing a personalised Halloween costume. She's not defined by being dangerous. She's so much more than that. She's full witch Willow and she's going out with a bang.

Amity is dressed as Hecate, Azura's rival turned friend turned heavily wlw coded best friend (I guess???), which obviously mirrors Amity's own role when the story initially began. There's a bit of significance linked to the Azura books and what they mean to Amity. Namely, from Lost in Language, when her chilly exterior began to crack. Her secret hideaway in the library was discovered, which acts as a representation of the person that she really is, but desperately tries to hide. And, on full display, was the Azura books. She had all but one, which Luz allowed her borrow. The missing piece that set Amity's whole motivation to change into motion.

That book was the tentative olive branch between her and Luz. And, with Luz's influence, it kickstarted her journey into becoming a better person, taking control of her own life, cutting toxic relationships, repairing others, etc. It's possible that Amity wouldn't be the kind and happy girl she is today without the Azura books. So, her diving into the finale while representing those books is very sweet. Also....I love her Hecate outfit. Its SOOOOOO pretty. The boots, the dress, the celestial aesthetic!!! Serve!!!!

I feel like I don't need to go that in depth about the significance of Hunter's costume. We all get it. He discovered Cosmic Frontier when he was struggling to come to terms with his status as a grimwalker, which severely clouded his sense of identity. Hunter not only connected with O'Bailey, but it gave him the opportunity to see a representation of a thing he hated about himself from a more empathetic perspective. Hunter accepted O'Bailey, Hunter loved O'Bailey, Hunter became obsessed with O'Bailey. The book was probably a big stepping stone in accepting himself. Hunter cannot ignore the fact that he's a grimwalker. He can't sweep it under the rug. But he can embrace it. As somebody who is tied to the legacy of Caleb Wittebane against his will, it must be comforting to feel like he can latch on to a cool space hero, rather than an anonymous witch hunter from 400 years ago.

Hunter's sense of identity is very important to his arc. So, the T-shirt is also very fitting. Hunter's gonna have his final confrontation Belos, who constructed him as a doll of someone else, while wearing the wolf T-shirt he personalized himself and a homemade O'Bailey costume. Because his name is Hunter and Hunter loves wolves, sewing and Cosmic Frontier.

And Luz....man. I feel like there's SO MUCH significance to Luz ending this story dressed as the Good Witch Azura and I don't even think I can do it justice. It's like....that's her. Azura means everything to her. It's shaped her into the person she is today. The Good Witch Azura is the reason Luz loves magic. And if Luz didn't love magic, she never would have stayed in the Demon Realm. It brought her closer to Amity. It's what inspired her to read and write and draw and imagine and create. It's an outlet for all her passion for stories. It was the thing that comforted her and brought her genuine hapiness during the darkest point in her entire life. It reminds her just how much Manny loved her. It reminds her just how much she loves Manny.

Luz is a character who is defined by all this relentless love and almost all of it can be linked back to Azura. Fiction, art, magic, family. She's a kid who has endured so much pain but she has such a capacity for appreciating the eccentricities of the world around her. She's full of light.

It's worth noting that Luz began the story having a hard time differentiating fantasy from reality. As such, using the Azura universe as a form of escapism was a little unhealthy. However, that's not the case anymore. Luz has matured into a much wiser person, but that doesn't mean she has to let go of her love for fantasy stories. She's found this perfect balance where she can accept the world as it is, while still being able to indulge in her storybooks in a healthy way. I don't think Azura will ever stop being an important aspect of her life.

Luz is carrying the memory of Manny with her until the finale. She's weird and she has always been loved for being weird and once this is all over, she'll keep being weird and she'll keep being loved for it.

[yanderelmk]

what if there was a darling that was an absolute cinnamon roll but their Pokémon were almost ALL ghost types and other “scary” looking ones. When asked about it, Cinnamon Darling replies “I wanted to make sure they all got a loving home!” Sure they have some cutesy types, especially healers, but most look like they could either suplex or send you to the shadow realm…

🧶

Macaque is about to become your BFF!! He has his share of spooky-ookie Pokémon! Here's his Trainer ID the creators made:

For those of you who don't know, in order, Macaque has: Zarude, Umbreon, Grimmsnarl, Zoroark, Gengar, and Marshadow! It's a win for him, his cuteness makes him want to forfeit all mortal possessions to you while he adores your team and is fighting absolute demons not to take one of the scary Ghost-types, squish their cheeks, and go "Aww, lookit you! I bet you make grown men pass out and eat the souls of lil kids, huh? Ya lil scamp, you." Macaque has no goddamn fear he will do this to a Darkrai. Man lives among the shadows. The shadows are his lil scrunkly-wunklies.

[saveme-storybrooke-potc]

Why I don't like "Wednesday" the new Netflix series

Now, I was really hoping to not have anything negative to say about the new Wednesday series because I absolutely love The Addams Family and I love Tim Burton (bonus points if the music is by Danny Elfman which 98% of the time it is) but there were many problems I had with the series and I'm just going to talk about why.

1: They ruined Wednesday's relationship with her mother

I don't know about in the comics but in the original show, and the two movies (we do NOT count the abomination of those animated movies that came out recently) but Wednesday was always close with her mother, they complimented each other, and she looked up to Morticia and wanted to be like her. BUT FOR SOME REASON in the show Wednesday all of a sudden, hates (or at least it's shown that way) Morticia and says things like "I am nothing like you" "I don't want to be like you" even down to not having a romantic side like her mother using the same nicknames (like in the movie with the nerd) and I get that she's a teenager, but like that was a big part of her character imo.

2: The parents are godawfully annoying

They probably did this for the very reason that the show is called Wednesday and it's probably trying to get us to see through Wednesday's p.o.v so she'd find them annoying but like, their love being so sweet and genuine was one of the best parts in the show that was more for the older kids and adults to enjoy, and Wednesday ONLY SHOWED THAT IN THEIR FLASHBACK.

3: The show took away what The Addams were all about

The Addams were like outcasts to the "Normies" as the show likes to call them. And having Wednesday go to a school where she "fits in" because she really wasn't and outcast to the outcasts no matter what the show tries to trick you, but if she went to a "Normies" school instead of being expelled like in the first episode she could have been the Wednesday that the real Addams Family fans know and love.

4: The didn't even add one of the best characters from the movies

Joel (if I am getting that right) was such a cute addition to the movie, the dynamic that he had with Wednesday because they were such opposites were the highlights to the movie. He was a nerdy kid that liked to be alone, and she just liked to be alone. But I was pretty disappointed that they didn't choose to add him in and instead had the Coffee shop boy and Painter as love interests (I'm not going to include Wolfgirl since she isn't cannon to liking Wednesday, and she's too fucking annoying for me to handle)

5: Our classic Wednesday & Pugsley duo

I mean like how could you separate these two? and IK that Wolfgirl could be a (possible) substitute for the absence of Pugsley, but it is very disappointing to not see the duo back at it creeping out other kids and even plotting things against their friends/family but that was definitely a lose

6: They really shouldn't have had Wednesday go to a Walmart version of Monster High

One of the things that made The Addams Family THE ADDAMS FAMILY was the fact that they were just a family, like others but they were just different. Which is why the lyrics were

"They're creepy and they're kooky Mysterious and spooky They're all together ooky The Addams family

Their house is a museum When people come to see 'em They really are a screaming The Addams family"

And I KNOW that this is just a different adaptation but how can you call it The Addams Family when you basically have her like EVERY OTHER CHARACTER SHE INTERACTS WITH. it just ruined that part, and she should have never been expelled for that piranha incident.

7: I'm not completely on board with the supernatural aspects

Actually, for this one I'm not really talking about her visions (don't get me wrong that whole aspect was definitely weird at first but I'm talking about Wolfgirl, Siren, Duce, Telekinesis boy, and maybe even painter boy (who I'm pretty sure is just like the nerd but anyways). Because The Addams WEREN'T ABOUT THAT they were about creeping other people out and I get that they had other friends like cousin IT and the kid WHAT but those were just tiny aspects, and they were rarely part of the movies and mostly there for parties. It just makes no sense for there to be a bunch of outcasts for THE ADDAMS FAMILY

Aside from those major things the more problems I have are with the other characters that she interacts with, mostly Wolfgirl that one really annoyed me Siren was more of a disagreement Wednesday had at the beginning but then got along with afterwards and she was pretty interesting.

I didn't entirely like the whole Monster Killer reveal, and how predictable it was or that whole grooming scenario but that whole storyline was more for the plot than anything.

but there are things I did like about the show:

Walmart Duce and Wolfgirls relationship (weather romance or not the puppy love is cute)

I like when they make Wednesday, Wednesday like how she enjoys digging up graves, or doesn't cry, or show affection

I did like the Coffee Shop kid and honestly, I think he needs help from Wednesday. He was after all groomed by that teacher (when I tell you I gaged watched that scene, I mean it) and she did use his mother against him and controlled him until he gave in which is really sad and I want Wednesday to help him

I did like painterboy too, he became pretty stiff afterwards but if they give him more development that'll be nice to see him interact with Wednesday (she seems to care for him at some extent to jump infront of the arrow for him)

I like Siren girl and the Mayors son, I want to see more interactions from them

THAT MORTICIA AND GOMEZ FLASHBACK IS EVERYTHING TO ME IK THAT WHOLE STORY WAS SO FREAKING PREDICTABLE BUT DAMN THE FACT THAT HE GOT ARRESTED FOR HER MADE MY HEART SKIP A BEAT

I did like the sheriff, IK he was an asshole to the Addams at first, but I liked when they finally made amends

Coffee shop kid and Wednesday's first date was pretty cute, but it would be 1000000000000x better with summercamp nerd

[always-andromeda]

Drunk on Halloween || Calvin Weir-Fields x Fem!Reader

Calvin Weir Fields x Fem!Reader

Word Count || 3,195

Summary || Calvin is aching for one night of peace; a bottle of wine, a cheesy horror movie, and the love of his life. However, some trick-or-treaters have different plans in mind.

Author’s Note || can you guys tell that I'm a Calvin apologist with this one? can you guys tell that even though I think he can be toxic as fuck, I'd sell my left nipple for a dime to have him just for a night? am I writing this note at four in the morning and that's why it's so unhinged? mind your own business, perhaps.

Warnings || smut (minors, do not interact or I will dip you into an ooky spooky vat of acid <3), thigh riding, slight use of pet names (Calvin calls the reader a good girl like twice lol), Calvin is an uptight little freak, reader is just in for a good time (good for her), nothing else I can think of!!

"Work all night on a drink of rum, daylight come and me wan' go home..."

Calvin pulls away from your neck, nearly breathless, "Are you really going to do that?"

You continue singing quietly but dramatically from underneath him, "Stack banana 'til the mornin' come, daylight come and me wan' go home..."

"Are you kidding me?" He groans.

"Come Mister Tally Man, tally me banana, daylight come and me wan' go home..."

Hair flopping forward, Calvin's head tips downward, mere millimeters from being buried in your chest, "Wow. You're really committing to this."

You giggle at his expense, "It's not my fault you decided to start something right before the dinner scene."

With nearly every night having been a movie night, you'd waited for something like this. However, you knew that tonight was likely that night as soon as Calvin pulled out a bottle of red wine, insisting that he bring some modicum of culture to the table. A few glasses later and all he'd manifested was a heavy haze that came to smother both of your lazily lounging figures.

Calvin says in disbelief, "I've never seen this before, how was I supposed to know what this scene would turn you into?"

"You should know because you know me, Cal." you slur.

He sounds even more tired than he really is when he replies, "I doubt that more and more with each passing day." Then he shakes his head as if he's actually upset. Your lighthearted demeanor dulls.

Voice softening, your hand rests on his cheek, "Hey, why does it matter? We're having fun, right?"

Calvin watches your eyes go wide, staring at him wearily. It reminds him a little of how his mother would look at him when he was upset. Like he was a child who'd thrown a fit. The next thing he was expecting out of your mouth was something akin to, "There, there, Calvin. It's okay." He can't tell if that annoys or comforts him.

"I guess..." he sighs.

You ask, "What's that supposed to mean?"

The cogs in Calvin's head turn as he tries to figure out exactly what had ruffled him so much. You never let him get away with passive aggression. He's not even sure why he does it in the first place; there's something that tells him there's no chance that anyone would even care why he was frustrated. So why should he bother to even try verbalizing it?

Your dumb runs over his cheekbone, "Cal, what's wrong?"

He begins shakily, "You know...I like when things go to plan..."

Your tone is laced with a little giggle, "So you were just planning to fuck me ahead of time? Is that how all of our sexual encounters go?"

"Don't call it that."

Your smile turns into a full grin as you stare incredulously, "What? Fucking? You mean what we've been doing for months?"

Immediately clamming up, Calvin replies, "It's just...it's not romantic when you say it like that."

You laugh, "Ah, because having sex while drunk on your couch is peak romance." Calvin watches your finger slide down the bumped bridge of his nose before you tap the tip.

Something in the teasing action makes him lighten. Maybe it's the fact that he swears he saw you wink afterwards. Or maybe it was the way the light from the television and the shadows of the darkness twisting and tricking his imagination. Or maybe he's just sick of worrying; maybe he's finally hit the threshold between his nervousness and his want. 

He mumbles, "It could be."

You scoff, "You're so silly."

"Says the one who wanted to put me in fishnets and a corset." He reminds you of the conversation that took place during one of your previous Halloween movie nights. The film: Rocky Horror Picture Show. You had laughed while comparing him to the hero of the film, teasing him with breathy repetitions of the line, "Oh, Brad." He'd scowled and rolled his eyes, ignoring the way his stomach fluttered every time he heard it. It reminded him far too much of other sounds he'd heard you say.

"I stand by the fact that you were made to be Brad."  You add daringly, "And I think you would've looked super hot in them. I probably would've gotten undressed half an hour ago if you looked like that." Then you looked at him; eyelids at half mast and finger running down one of his arms bracing the weight of his body over you. His skin shivers at the languid movements. He wishes he wasn't wearing a damned sweater so he could feel the soft drag of your nails.

He hears the resigned lyric of Brad Majors ring in his skull, Damn it, Janet. I love you.

Without a second thought he dives back in, delivering a swift kiss that quickly turns more fervent as he tastes more of the dark red wine from earlier. Or maybe the taste is on his own taste buds. He's not entirely sure and he's far too lost in the moment to really differentiate the flavors. All he knows is that the view of you beneath him is alluring and convincing him that his timing is auspicious. Your fingers tangle in his hair, bringing him impossibly closer to you.

He moans right as the song playing ends and breathes, "Can I touch you?"

Though you hear his desperate question just fine, you decide to taunt him a little bit more. "Huh?"

Calvin demonstrates an unusual level of assertion when he fishes around the top the couch and grabs the remote, mashing a button to lower the volume of the television until the movie was almost completely silenced.

You can now hear his khaki covered knee slide up the upholstery of the couch, slow as it eases comfortably between your own legs and presses just slightly against you. It's just enough pressure on your clit that you begin to ache for more. More movement. More warmth. More tension. He's close enough that you can practically see yourself coming down from your high already. Then Calvin repeats himself, rewording the question to reflect his insistence.

"I want to touch you."

You don't dare laugh now. You're too busy teetering on the edge of something big, you can taste it in the back of your throat. 

"Please," you croak.

No matter how indifferent he can come off at times, Calvin can't be cruel to you. Instead, he's immensely satisfied with himself as he kisses you again, allowing his tongue to slip between your own lips. He takes as much as he wants and gives just a little more, allowing you some purchase from the heady tease of his knee grinding a little further against your pussy.

Wrenching away from the kiss, you regress into a pleading, mewling tangle of arousal, "Calvin, please-- please just let me...let me--"

His low voice bites you in an almost fatal way. "Let you what? Let you fuck yourself on my leg?"

You like the way the curse leaves his lips. Somehow, a man like Calvin can make the most vulgar words sound poetic even as he practically spits them at you. It makes more heat pool between your legs. It makes you fucking whimper for him. This is a rare form for both of you.

With you regurgitating the same cry of, "Please, Calvin, please..." He lets out his own chuckle.

"I'll let you move soon." He promises, "I just want to touch you first."

Calvin stays true to his word, anchoring a hand on your hip, rubbing circles with his thumb on your hip bone. Your sweater had begun to ride up your torso, exposing your soft stomach and the underside of your chest. Calvin lips curl at the sight of the pumpkin patterned sweater than matched his own. The idea of getting matching holiday sweaters had sounded terribly romantic; something he's sure he'd read in some romance novel as a teenager and simply filed it away in his subconscious. Now he finds his head filling with less than romantic thoughts as his fingers graze the hem of the brown, knitted garment and he realizes that underneath the silly sweater, you're not wearing a bra.

His hand wanders, caressing your side until it disappears entirely underneath the sweater. Cold fingers brush against your ribs and your breath hitches. With the television turned down, Calvin hears it and attempts to amend it by bringing his mouth to your jaw, peppering imprecise, open mouthed kisses along it until he reaches your ear. 

He whispers that you're pretty. So pretty as you gasp when his hand finally reaches one of your rounded breasts. He wastes no time focusing on the nipple, swiping his thumb over it carefully. And there it is again: the want that is just dying to keep building. It leaves your clit feeling like it's been set on fire. Another string of miserable pleas leave your lips as you turn your head to the side.

You stare at the television screen now, watching as the titular Beetlejuice torments Lydia's father. Despite the volume being turned all the way down, you know the line that comes out of his mouth. But, even then, you don't have it in you to utter, "We've come for your daughter, Chuck." because fuck, you need to come first.

Calvin takes a hold of your chin with his thumb and forefinger, gently turning your head back to stare into his eyes, blown out and glassy just from feeling your skin. Your breath is raggedly trailing through your burning lungs. 

Pitying you just enough, Calvin grants you the permission you've been waiting for. "You can move now." He says simply, as if he isn't just as worked up as you are. As if he isn't just waiting for you to ruin his pants; as if he isn't already preparing himself for the gloating he'll get to do when he does laundry tomorrow.

You respond eagerly but not to get too ahead of yourself, not wanting to unravel the knot inside you too quickly. You rock against his knee with smooth, unwaveringly slow motions. Calvin notices your restraint and lets praise drip from his tongue like raw honey, "Good girl...good girl."

The pet name sounds marginally awkward coming from him, but you're too far gone to second guess it. You let it spur you on even more when your thigh brushes against his erection. Based on how solid it is, you can't even imagine how much control it's taking him to hold back from letting himself get off. And a part of you is proud that just the feeling of your supple skin under his palms and your breathy cries were enough to get him that good. So you offer him a little relief by pulling him down on you, giving your thigh more of a chance to graze him fully.

Beautifully, Calvin groans shakily at the friction. Though it doesn't compare to being inside of you in the slightest, the mere movements are just enough to begin brewing his own climax.

Before too long, you're a tangled mess, hopelessly humping against each other on the couch, the movie long forgotten as you both aim to reach your releases. It only serves to provide mood lighting that flashes against your faces, illuminating how Calvin's expression contorts gracefully with the pleasure. He squeezes your breast with every restricted stroke against your thigh, making you whimper. It's a slurry of heaving chests, uneven breaths, and messily placed kisses and you both inch closer and closer to the end.

You're ascending the final hill, seconds away from the peak. Every time your clothed clit brushes against his knee, you feel your climax slowly and steadily clicking continually, just about to slot right into place when--

"Happy Halloween, Calvin Weird-Fields!" you manage to hear the yell faintly through your lust filled haze. You try to ignore it and continue rutting against him. But Calvin's hand leaves the confines of your sweater, hastily pulling it down over your torso before scrambling off of you. Your climax careens backwards down the hill, leaving you high and dry and ready to tear your hair out.

"Wait--" you barely have a chance to get an extra word in when he sits up.

He raises a finger quickly, shushing you.

Then you hear it again, a similar voice screaming from outside, "Yeah, happy fucking Halloween, Weird-Fields!"

"You've got to be kidding me. Not again." Calvin groans to himself before clambers away to his front door, barely having enough of a grip on himself to smooth his hair back. With the movie and you and the swiftly fading arousal fading, the tension returns to his shoulders, promptly weighing him down.

By the time he gets out the door, the teenagers have gotten back on their bicycles. They pull Halloween masks back over their faces and have already begun to ride back down the hill. At the risk of sounding too much like his late father, Calvin holds back the urge to yell obscenities back at them. He can't even think of the words to accurately express his anger anyways. 

He just turns back, staring at the stark white stucco of his two story home, now adorned with garlands of toilet paper. Right then, you emerge from the entrance, following him out to the little concrete sidewalk at the front of his home and looking at the damage. This time, the one thing keeping you from chuckling at the sight is the outrage clearly radiating from your boyfriend.

Calvin reaches up, only just tall enough to reach a strand that hangs down. Though he tugs on it gently, it rips off quickly, leaving him with two and a half pitiful squares of toilet paper in his grasp. 

His voice wobbles with frustration, "Are you-- you've gotta be kidding me." He jumps a little this time, reaching for the same sheet as it flutters in the wind, pulling off yet another few squares that he crumples in his trembling fist.

You watch him begin to breathe heavily, his lip quivering as he only works himself up more and more.

You reach out to lay a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, honey, stop..." but that doesn't quite catch his attention. You repeat firmly, "Calvin, stop."

He whips around and shoots you a venomous reply, "What the fuck am I supposed to do about this?"

"I don't know. Can't you pay someone to come out and clean it up?" A guy as wealthy and with as many connections as he did had to know someone who would be willing to take care of the mess.

"How the fuck am I going to get someone out here tonight?" he continues to rant, "Why the fuck are those kids even allowed to be out after dark? 

You raise your voice, "Calvin!"

"What?" he snaps.

"You don't need to worry about this right now. Why don't we just go back inside and--"

"What's the point?" he laughs dejectedly, "The night's already ruined anyways."

"It isn't ruined." you insist.

"Yes, it is. They fucked it up and I fucked it up even more and fuck it's all just fucking fucked." His tone only gets more irritated as he rambles on, dropping the crumpled toilet paper squares to the concrete and running his quivering hand through his hair once more.

This hadn't been the first time those teenagers had done something like this. It started with them leaving empty beer bottles on his sidewalk after drunkenly laughing on his porch all night. Calvin had heard the antics of course, but had been too hesitant to do anything. He just hoped they'd go away. So he simply recycled the bottle and thought that was the last of it. But they were spoiled rich kids that lived in the hills and were determined to make the pretentious author's life a living hell.

The last incident, weeks before this, had almost been the straw that broke the camel's back. They'd managed to get their hands on a copy of one of his books and torn the pages out, crumpling them up and littering the bushes in front of the entrance with them. Placed directly on his doormat was the bent and destroyed cover. They'd taken permanent markers to the duster jacket and written insults all over it. Most of them were childish scribblings. The one that stuck up to him most was the simple addition of an extra "D" in his name.

Thus came the creation of the most clever quip these teenagers had against him: Calvin Weird-Fields.

It was silly, he knew it and his cheeks grew red every time he thought about it. But it only ever reminded him of growing up being the prodigal genius. Most people thought he was brilliant. That presented a certain set of issues, all laced with a paradoxical sense of narcissism and self loathing. But the people that insisted he'd peaked during his teenage years? That opened up a brand new avenue of anxieties, ones that made him feel sick to his stomach every time he thought of them.

He really was nothing special. Just a kid who got lucky once. And he'd never amount else aside from that. Those bratty teenagers would probably do more than he ever had managed to do in his few decades of life.

Feeling your hands set on his shoulders once more, you bring him back into the moment. "Calvin. It's late. We can worry about this tomorrow. We're both kind of drunk and I'm sure we're both really tired. So why don't we go back inside and try to get some sleep?"

Eyes glazed over, he stares back at you blankly through his tortoiseshell glasses.

You continue, bringing your hands down to his and hold them tightly in yours, hoping he can feel your sincerity in the touch. "Honey," Right as you start, you remember his words from earlier. "Just because things didn't go exactly to plan, it doesn't mean everything is fucked. We're going to be just fine. We'll figure it out in the morning."

"We?"

Your head tilts bittersweetly, affected entirely by his tenderness and all too aware that he's still too used to going at things alone. You can't imagine what it's like being stuck in his head sometimes; caught between a self aggrandizing front and an inner voice that is probably far more critical of himself than even the harshest reviewer.

"Yes. We." you answer finally. "Now can we go inside? I'm getting really fucking cold. Maybe you can warm me up." With the chunky sweater you're wearing, it's obviously a complete lie. But you don't think Calvin notices or cares. 

The anger starts to melt away and he squeezes your hands in his before bringing them to his lips and giving them a chaste kiss. You see his gloomy green eyes are misty with the beginnings of a few tears that he quickly wipes away with the sleeve of his own sweater.

"That sounds nice." he concludes quietly, letting you lead him back inside his apartment.

[otakween]

Digimon Tamers - Episode 40

Woohoo! 40 episodes :D I feel accomplished

This episode was mostly upbeat with some ooky-spooky stuff thrown in there for good measure. This show has a lot of tonal whiplash. I truly have no idea where they're going with this plot, so that's exciting. Compared to Adventure and 02, this is definitely the most unpredictable season. (Well, I know it'll have a happily ever after because its a kid's show lol).

Notes:

Beelzebumon gets zapped by a buncha digimon until he de-digivolves. I interpreted that as him getting attacked on purpose? Maybe? All the bug-like digimon swarming him creeped me out.

Culumon's ultimate (hehe) purpose was to perform "shining evolution" which insta-digivolves all the digimon to ultimate (at least those that have an ultimate form lol). I guess it also just calls out to digimon that are already ultimate too since Jijimon and Babamon show up. (Wait, why didn't it affect the main digimon? Ah well)

I kind of thought the Gods would have wanted to keep Culumon around permanently, but I guess they only needed them to help fight the D-reaper? I thought Culumon had more of an everyday purpose with digivolution...

Kenta's future partner shows up and just loves him instantly for no apparent reason lol. I guess it's just like when a stray cat chooses you. MarineAngemon is a lot tinier than I expected based on the videogames...

It's hard for me to comment on what's going on with Juri because I have no idea. At first it seems like her puppet is possessed and then she goes behind a rock and becomes possessed herself? Is she being controlled by some nefarious digimon? The true big bad? Guess I'll find out! (The puppet suddenly talking on its own was effectively creepy).

Hirokazu assuming Juri was hiding to use the bathroom made me wonder...do the kids feel the urge to go to the bathroom ever? Does it go by the same, weird ~belief~ logic as hunger? If he made that assumption, they must have been going to the bathroom this whole time I guess (somehow lol).

It was kinda cool seeing a bunch of ultimate digimon gather for good (as opposed to an evil army). Hirokazu geeking out over them was a nice touch.

They played the dial up sound! The nostalgiaaaa

Their plan to request help from randos around the world via email would never work nowadays haha. Straight to spam.

The Gods being like "we got this, you can go home now" felt kinda like a unique plot beat for Digimon. Usually the kids and their digimon are the only ones who can save the day, but I guess they don't go by "chosen children" in Tamers. Of course, they'll probably still need to stay and fight...something.

[atinylittlepain]

Apothecary - Chapter Two

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

everyone's got something to say about her, and Joel doesn't know what to make of it. when he returns the favor he owes her, he tries to get some answers up in the mountains and away from the wagging tongues of Jackson.

warnings | 18+ angst, mentions of death, spooky-ooky vibes, people being superstitious dickheads

a/n | thank you all for the love on the first part of this series! i just got so excited i couldn't help but write the second part :) keep letting me know what you think, my inbox is always open and i love to hear from you!

.................................

“My son had a cough since he was two years old. She cured it with whatever she keeps bubbling on that stove of hers.”

“I had a rash that just wouldn’t go away. She gave me a balm that cleared it right up. A godsend, really.”

“Wouldn’t be alive today if she hadn’t nursed me back to health with all those herbs and plants she tends to.” 

“She talks to animals. Calmed a bucking colt with a whisper– I saw it myself!”

“I heard that infected don’t even notice her. Just walk right past her. That ain’t human, if you ask me.”

“That cat of hers spies on people and brings all their secrets back to her. You can’t tell me that’s a normal cat, not with the way it stares at folks.”

“Some of the women say they’ve seen her out in the middle of the night, dancing naked in her backyard whenever it’s a full moon.”

“I don’t know about dancing naked, but I have seen some strange lights coming from her shop on my way home from the Tipsy Bison. Lord knows what she gets up to in there.”

“She curses men. Lures them up into the mountains and puts them under her spell. But they always end up dead.”

“Dead?”

“As a doornail. It ain’t a coincidence that any man that crosses paths with her seems to wind up with one really unlucky patrol shift. Luck’s got nothing to do with it, lemme tell you.” 

Even though Tommy told him to forget about it, Joel’s been doing a bit of recon, asking people around town about her, and every new anecdote only further confuses him. It seems like everyone’s got some sort of opinion about the resident witch.

It has shocked him, really, how openly folks call her that. Even the ones that speak highly of her. He had asked Ellie about what she had heard one day after she came home from her classes at the community school. She had shrugged, a knowing grin on her face

“Well, she sure helped me out, old man. But yeah, my friends say their moms call her a lot worse names than witch. Personally, I think it’s fucking cool. D’you think she can fly around on a broom like in the movies?” Joel had not been particularly amused by that question.

He’s not sure what to make of any of it. Some people call her a saint. Others call her the devil incarnate. But there does seem to be a general consensus that any man that sets her in his sights is doomed to meet a timely demise.

It’s been two weeks since he saw her at the town market, and he hasn’t even caught a glimpse of her since. According to Maria, she’s been busy with a flare-up of some sort of stomach bug in the community, making house calls and – Joel supposes – working her magic. 

He can’t figure out why he even cares. After all, he’s only met the woman once. But he can’t seem to shake her out of his thoughts, replaying their meeting over and over in his head, particularly the moment she had said Sarah’s name with such certainty.

He finds himself rolling all this over in his mind most nights, sitting out on his front porch as the summer sun turns to thick liquid over the mountains. It’s in such a position that he finally sees her again, approaching his house with a tired smile on her face.

“Hey there, stranger.” She walks up the first step to his porch, leaning against the wooden beam as she speaks. He can’t help the way his eyes trail over her, a pair of coveralls like the kind mechanics used to wear pulled distractingly taut around the swell of her hips and a cloth bag slung over her shoulder, the tops of jars and bottles peeking out of it. When his eyes finally slip back up to her face, the quirk of her eyebrows lets him know that she totally clocked him checking her out, and he has to clear his throat, swallowing his embarrassment before he responds.

“Um, hey– hi. I, uh, haven’t seen you around lately.” She tilts her head at him, smile simmering down to a crooked smirk.

“I’ve been a little busy with all the– y’know, vomiting and diarrhea around town. But I think folks are finally out of the woods now.” Joel has to wonder to himself how she can still manage to look pretty while talking about vomiting and diarrhea.

“How exactly do you help– with that?” Her smile broadens.

“For the stuff coming out the top end, peppermint oil mostly. Ginger is king, but I’ve only got so much of it cultivating at the shop. For the problem down below, you just gotta push fluids and tell them it’ll pass.” 

“Can I ask– how do you know this stuff?” 

“Most of what I know comes from my mom. She was a lady of the plants, knew just about everything about anything that grows.” Fondness laces through her words, a soft smile as she tells him this, and he finds himself mirroring her expression.

“Lady of the plants– that’s a new one to me.” 

“Well, it’s better than witch, right?” Joel’s smile falls, but she just laughs.

“So I take it you’ve heard the rumors about me?” He’s not sure how to respond, a thickness settling in his throat and ice prickling the back of his neck. His voice comes out a bit hoarse when he does finally answer.

“Heard a lot of things about you. Not really sure what to believe though.” Her smile screws up at that, eyes crinkling as she looks at him.

“Why don’t you just ask me what you’re wondering then? Get it straight from the source.” She crosses her arms over her chest, the unbuttoned snaps of her coveralls splaying open to reveal the edge of a white tank-top, the suggestion of cleavage drawing Joel’s eyes before he can help it. He swallows hard, eyes darting back up to hers.

“Is it– I mean– are you?”

“Am I what?” She wants to hear him say it, he can tell by the ghosting curve of her lips. The word feels silly coming out of his mouth.

“Are you a– a witch?” Her smile goes practically radioactive at that, big and bright as she throws her head back in a laugh. She looks back at him, her lips pursed, eyes narrowed.

“Oh yeah, certified. Got the black cat to prove it and everything.” As if on cue, Stevie jumps up onto the railing of the porch, making Joel jump in his seat. She stifles a giggle behind her hand, Stevie nuzzling against her arm that’s wrapped around the porch beam. Joel huffs.

“Look, it seems like everyone’s got something to say about you. But I’m not the kind of guy to buy into a bunch of bullshit rumors.” She hums at that.

“Oh, no? What kind of guy are you then, Joel?” 

“The kind that likes to work things out for himself.” 

“Is that what this is? You working me out?” 

“Sure am trying to.” She sucks her teeth, squinting at him.

“And?” Joel sighs.

“And– I’m thinking it’s gonna take me a while to reach any kind of conclusion.” She nods lightly at that, smiling at Stevie as scratches under the cat’s chin.

“Hmm, alright. You let me know when you reach your conclusion then.” A thick blink of silence falls between them, and Joel finds himself unable to tear his eyes away from hers, only breaking when she lets out a sigh.

“I didn’t just come over here to give you a hard time. Was actually hoping to cash in on that favor you owe me.” He sits up a little straighter at that, nodding.

“Alright, when did you wanna go out– I mean– not– go out– like– not like a–” She laughs, silencing his floundering. 

“I know what you meant. And I was thinking the end of this week? Do you have time on Friday?” 

“Uh-huh, yep. That’s my day off.” Her face falls.

“Oh, I don’t wanna take up your day off, I’m–”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m happy to help, really.” Her frown softens into a suggestion of a smile, and she nods.

“Well, alright. Thank you, Joel. You good to meet at the gates that morning?” 

“I’ll be there, darlin. Sounds like a plan.” She grins.

“Until then, Joel.” She turns, hopping down from the porch step, before glancing over her shoulder to look at him.

“Oh, and don’t worry. I’m not gonna curse you. Not yet at least.” It’s so unexpected, he ends up choking on an inhale, but his coughing doesn’t drown out the sound of her laugh as she slinks away from his house. He’s so busy watching her saunter off that he doesn’t notice the cat jumping down from the railing, startling him when she starts twining between his legs. Stevie looks up at him, yellow eyes unblinking, as if she’s expecting something from him. He tentatively leans forward, holding out his open hand which the cat sniffs at before nudging her head into his palm, a low purr vibrating through her body. 

“You gonna go tell her all my secrets, Stevie?” The cat looks up at him, head tilted. A little too human-like for Joel’s taste. She lets out a small mrrp, before going back to twining between his legs, sleek spine arching up into Joel’s hand. Then, just as quickly as she had appeared, she pads off down the steps of his porch and out into the night. 

…

“Rumor has it you’re helping a certain lady out with some work up in the mountains tomorrow.” Joel huffs at his brother’s cocked eyebrow and crooked smirk.  He takes a sharp swig of his drink before responding.

“Owe her a favor, that's all. And before you tell me I’m not gonna come back alive, I’ve already heard that from four other people this week.” That gets a laugh out of Tommy, his eyes glancing around the bar before focusing back on Joel. 

“Nah, you’ll come back alive. It’s the days after when they always end up dead.” 

“You serious?” Tommy shrugs.

“There’s been a couple of guys, sure. But if you ask me, that has more to do with the stories people believe than it does with her. What we believe, we create, brother. The mind is a powerful thing.” He punctuates his words with a tap of his fingers to his temple. Joel grumbles.

“Yeah, yeah, alright, wise ass. But you’re telling me there really have been men who’ve–”

“It’s all coincidence, Joel. Like I said, there have been a few guys who started chasing after her. Went up into the mountains with her, y’know, all romantic and shit. And then, well, it seems like every time, only a few days later, they wound up dead. But in every instance, it was a bad patrol shift that got them. S’just coincidence that it happened after they got with her.”

“How many coincidences?” Tommy sighs.

“Four. In the last four years or so.” Joel feels his brows lift at that.

“That’s a lot of fucking coincidences, Tommy.” Tommy shrugs.

“Look, folks always talk about how horrible it is that all these men died. And it is. But no one thinks to mention what that must have done to her. To like someone? Hell, maybe even love someone? And then not only have them taken away from you, but to then be blamed for it too? It’s fucking atrocious, man.” When Tommy finishes speaking, silence falls between them, Joel a bit stunned by the clear compassion Tommy speaks with about her.

“Why d’you even care? Why not join the crowd, huh?” Tommy frowns at that, twirling his liquor in his glass rather than looking at his brother.

“I didn’t tell you this– I mean, why would I? But, Maria had a pretty difficult pregnancy.” He takes a sharp inhale before continuing to speak.

“We weren’t sure if– if the baby– if we were gonna be ok. And she was there for us, through it all.” Joel can see the tears pooling in his brother���s eyes, glinting in the low light of the bar when he finally looks at him.

“I don’t know if we’d have our boy today if it hadn’t been for her. So yeah, I care about her. And I’ll side with her every time. And most folks will too, when push comes to shove. She’s done a lot for this community. But it’s easy to spread poison behind people’s backs. So that’s what they do.” Tommy sits back on his stool, sighing deeply.

“Suppose a lot of the men see her as a challenge, y’know? Steal a cursed kiss and live to tell the tale, or some bullshit like that. And the women see the men pining after her, and they don’t like that one bit. Either way, they talk, way more than they should.” Tommy throws back the last of his drink, wincing at the burn. Joel, meanwhile, is still trying to process everything his brother just told him.

“So should I tell the kid to start planning my funeral, or what?” Tommy laughs, shaking his head.

“Nah, I think you’re too much of a stubborn ass to let a rinky-dink curse sway you. Besides, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.” Joel squints at his brother.

“Why’s that?” 

“You said you’re just doing a favor for her. She might not even like you enough to curse you, brother.”

…

Joel doesn’t sleep at all that night. His mind works over what Tommy told him again and again, trying to reach some sort of conclusion about everything he’s learned, and coming up short every time. He shuffles out in the early morning light, eyes bleary as he nears the gate. She, however, is chipper as anything, smiling broadly when she sees him.

“Hey there, you ready to go?” He nods, grumbling out a quiet affirmation, and then they’re off.

Most of the morning is spent in silence, hiking up into the mountains. Joel knows that it’s not infected they have to worry about, not out here. But raiders are a whole other story, so he keeps a steady hand on his rifle slung over his shoulder, letting her lead them a few paces ahead of him. 

“You’re quiet this morning.” She glances at him over her shoulder as she speaks, eyebrow lifted.

“I’m thinking.” 

“About?” He huffs, stopping where he stands in the underbrush of the woods. When she realizes he’s no longer following, she turns back around, hands on her hips as she looks at him.

“I just– I wish you’d give me some straight answers here. I’ve heard something different about you from just about everyone in town– and I’m not sure if I believe any of it. Just– please.” Her brow is furrowed, eyes squinted at him as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“What do you want from me, Joel?” He swallows hard, eyes glancing around the thick trees before looking back at her.

“The truth– I want the truth.” She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that.” He has to laugh out of frustration at this little game they’re playing, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a low curse before focusing back on her.

“Alright, I’ll be specific. All those men that died. A lot of folks around town are convinced that you had something to do with it. S’that true?” When she speaks, Joel’s taken aback by her tone, her usual lightness replaced by a steeled stoicism.

“I had nothing to do with that. Any of it. The only curse that was on those men was their own goddamn minds buying into the town bullshit.” He’s inclined to believe her, judging by her unwavering gaze and the sure tilt of her chin as she speaks, but there’s still more that he needs to know.

“But you are– different. Aren’t you?” That coaxes a smile out of her, and she steps a bit closer to him.

“Different.” She says the word like a challenge, and he nods, taking his own steps closer to her.

“Is that your conclusion, Joel?” Both of them have their arms crossed over their chests, and they now stand so close that their forearms lightly brush.

“Starting to think I ain’t ever gonna reach a conclusion about you, darlin.” Her eyes crinkle, smile threatening to crook into a full-blown grin.

“Would that be such a bad thing? No conclusion?” It’s like magnets, the way their faces tilt, subtle shifts toward one another until he can feel the light air of her exhale across his mouth. He hums, a low sound in his chest.

“I think I’ll live.” He can practically feel the stretch of her grin at his words.

“I think you will too.” It happens as easily as a tide rolling in, languid in the way their lips slip together. His hands find the sweep of her jaw, pulling her in deeper, her palms splaying over his chest. He’s a little surprised when she swipes her tongue over the curve of his bottom lip, coaxing him open and tangling even closer with him. A woman has never taken charge like this with him, and it’s making his head spin. When she does pull away, he’s only a little embarrassed by the way he chases after her lips, stuttering into some sort of composure when she grins at him.

“For the record, you’re not wrong.” Not entirely sure what she means, he frowns at her, shaking his head. She laughs.

“I am different, Joel.”

“That wasn’t just a lucky guess, was it? About– about Sarah?” Her eyes soften, features dropping into a sad understanding. She slides her palms up from his chest to twine behind his neck. 

“No, it wasn’t.” 

…

“This is lemon balm.” She glances over her shoulder at him from where she’s crouched down, thumbing at a cropping of large, waxy leaves. He’s learned the names of more plants today than he could ever remember, though he still nods when she shows him a new one like he has any clue what it is.

“What do you use that for?” 

“You dry it, and then you can brew tea with it. It’s calming– helps with sleep and stress. Or you can mix it into salve to treat cold sores. Though not many people in Jackson come to me with that problem.” She clips several leaves from the plant, carefully tucking them into her pack and slinging it over her shoulder as she stands back up. 

They’ve been out all day, moving through the woods as she collects various plant snippings, explaining each one to him, how to use it and what its use is. And between them, a silent understanding has settled, even though Joel hasn’t asked anymore questions about her. But he knows that Tommy was right. Whatever she is, she’s a good one.

“We oughta head back soon. Sun’s starting to set.” She nods, wiping her hands off on the front of her jeans, and they easily step into stride with one another. They spend most of the hike back in a comfortable silence. Joel finds himself wanting to say something, ask something more, but always hesitating, mind hazy from the heat of the day, and from the stamped memory of the kiss they shared. Even if it was cursed, he reckons that he wouldn’t mind that.

“Joel? I want to say thank you.” He glances at her walking alongside him, the quick-fading light casting syrupy shadows across her features. He has to blink a few times to keep himself from staring.

“No need for thanks. I was happy to repay the favor.” 

“No, that’s– that’s not what I meant. I mean– thank you for coming out today with me, I appreciate it. But– I wanted to thank you for– thinking for yourself– about me.” That makes him stop in his stride, turning to fully look at her as she does the same. They’ve just crested a hill, the gates of Jackson coming into view, and her eyes keep glancing back toward it, a nervous crease between her brows.

“It’s just– you’re right– I know everyone has something to say about me. And I guess I don’t have too many friends because of it. Most folks make up their minds about me before they even talk to me. So, thank you– for not doing that.” His chest twists at her words, the worried look scrunched across her face. He’d like to take the pain away that’s clear in her expression. And then, that tightness in his chest grows for a different reason, as he realizes that he’s already in far too deep with her. He has to clear his throat to shake away the thickening feeling, tentatively reaching his hand out to her, his fingers skating over the faint dip of her collarbone. He can see her breath catch at his touch, and he revels in it, letting his hand trail down her arm until their fingers are tangling together.

“You shouldn’t have to thank me for that. Whatever may or may not be true about you– no one deserves that. I just– why do you help them– when they treat you the way they do?” She sighs, squeezing his hand in hers, and giving a weak shrug of her shoulders.

“Because it’s what I’m good at. I always wanted to help people– and that’s what I get to do. Even if some of them are fucking dicks about it.” Her crassness catches him off guard, pulling a stuttering laugh from his chest as she grins. But she’s all seriousness again, clearing her throat, her brow pulling down.

“Suppose I should warn you now that they’ll talk about you too– if you stick around me. And I don’t blame you if you don’t want–” He’s heard enough, and does something entirely too bold by closing the distance between them to steal another kiss, her wide eyes meeting his when he pulls away.

“Don’t care what any of ‘em have to say about me, or about you. They can talk all they want, darlin.” He can feel the relief in her sigh. She nods, giving his hand one final squeeze before breaking away, continuing the walk back to town. 

When they get back inside the gates, she offers him a small smile, her hands fidgeting with the straps of her pack.

“Thank you again. I really appreciated your help.” 

“Like I said, it was no–”

“Well, well, well– what do we have here? Looks like she’s got Miller under her spell, boys!” The change in her demeanor is instant, face scrunching up as they both turn to see where the commentary is coming from. Joel recognizes the man, Mason, if he remembers right, and a small group of other guys he knows from past patrol meetings. They’ve all got a similar sneer across their faces, eyes zeroed in on her, and he has to fight the urge to step in front of her to get them to stop looking at her like that.

“Guess we better get another coffin ready, huh? Hate to break it to you, Miller. She may be pretty, but she ain’t nothing but bad news.” Joel’s fists clench at his sides, and as the men break into another howl of laughter, his feet start moving toward them before his brain can catch up. But she’s quick to step in front of him, hands pressing into his chest and eyes fierce.

“Don’t– it’s not worth it.” It’s immediate, the calm that washes over him with her words, though he still glares over her shoulder at the men, whose laughter has only escalated.

“Awww, she got you good, man! Hey, witchy-poo! What kinda magic you got working on Miller to have him so whipped?” And with that, Joel is ready to bash their heads in all over again, though she holds him back with her palms firm against the front of his shirt. 

“Joel, it’s fine. They’re harmless, really.” He glances at the men one more time before finally focusing back on her, huffing as he nods. She gives him what she can of a smile, worry still pressed between her brows. 

“I’ll see you soon, ok?” His hands flex at his sides, wanting more than anything to tuck her under his arm and walk off together, but he settles for another nod, and a whispered acquiescence. She’s gone in a blink, walking off to the hollering of the men behind her. Before he can do something stupid, Joel heads off in the opposite direction toward the Tipsy Bison. He needs a fucking drink.

…

Joel is nursing his second tumbler of whiskey when just about the last person he’d like to see sidles up next to him at the bar. 

“Miller.” Mason sits down on the stool next to him, but Joel keeps his eyes on his swirling glass. 

“Look, man, I’m sorry for giving you a hard time out there. But I’m trying to help you out.” Joel rests his elbows on the bar, glancing briefly at Mason.

“Don’t remember asking for your help, man.” Mason laughs, turning on his stool to fully face Joel, a stupid grin across his face.

“Well then you don’t know her as well as we all do. I meant what I said, y’know. She’s bad news.” Joel’s starting to feel that anger creeping up his throat, angling himself just slightly in Mason’s direction to get a good look at him.

“Son, I’ve heard enough stories this week to have a pretty good idea of just how full of shit you all are. I thought this was a community of decent people, really. But after being told one too many times about some ridiculous curse, I realize you’re nothing but fools and cowards.” Mason laughs again, and Joel’s a blink away from slapping the sound right out of his mouth. 

“I’m not talking about that bullshit curse.” Joel squints at him.

“Come again?” 

“That curse you’re referring to? I agree with you that it’s town nonsense. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” When Joel stays silent, Mason’s mouth stretches into a smile.

“She may not be sending men to their graves, but she ain’t so innocent either. See, she likes to meddle.”

“Meddle?” Mason nods.

“In other people’s business. Sure, she helps folks all the time. But that’s not all she’s doing in that shop of hers.” Joel huffs, getting tired of the way this man seems to be stringing him along.

“Talk plainly, son. It’s getting late.” Mason barks out a laugh, sliding off his stool before laying a hand on Joel’s shoulder, a squinted smile on his face.

“Why don’t you go see what she’s got cooking up in that kitchen of hers in the middle of the night. Because I can tell you right now, it ain’t fucking tea.”

[kcrabb88]

Same anon that was raking through sand trying to come up with an explanation for Ahsoka’s sudden psychometry- I’ve just rewatched the show bc today is the last Tano Tuesday and I’ve decided Ahsoka was never identified to have psychometry by the order bc she’s the absolute WORST at it. She’s got the weakest inclination for it in history. I am admittedly not familiar with it past the Quinlan episodes of Clone Wars, but from the things I’ve seen, true psychometry gives one images and feelings and a deep connection with the object and what happened to it. Our gal Ahsoka is getting a few snippets of words and a vague impression of what may have happened.

So if I’m incorrect, feel free to ignore my ramblings, but I propose: young Ahsoka coming up to Anakin and Obi-Wan with an object that’s particularly ookie-spooky-force-connected and going “Masters, I’m getting this feeling… like this thing has almost a memory…” Cue a montage of them handing her increasingly ridiculous items, and her getting almost everything they ask incorrect but a few things very close. Obi-Wan knows what’s going on here but since it’s arguable that she’s just lucky, he immediately goes, “Nope, nothing here! I know Quinlan very well and I am confident Ahsoka does not have the same skill,” in an attempt to sweep it under the rug and protect her from the trauma it caused his friend.

Ahsoka, 20 years later when she finally gets a chance to read a book about psychometry: “Hey what the fuck?” It takes her ages of practice to get it to a level that she can use it intentionally and even longer to have any confidence that she’s interpreting things correctly. 80% of the time she still gets it wrong.

Anon, this is GALAXY BRAIN and I love it!!! Yes, you're right about psychometry. It's images, sounds, and feelings. One of the reasons Force-users who have the power are generally told not to read things like weapons is because they can definitely pick up on the feelings of someone that weapon has killed, or the feelings of the owner of the weapon if they died holding it. It can leave them vulnerable to the dark side (which happens in Dark Disciple with Quinlan and the older comics with him also talk about this kind of thing).

But anyway! I love this concept. It both makes it so that Ahsoka (though I love her!) is not powerful in EVERY special way out of nowhere when she's cool enough on her own, and also has the angst potential with Obi-Wan wanting to protect her from what Quin has been through with such a volatile power. Absolutely ADORE the image of Ahsoka finally learning everything about it and being so confused (and also of Obi-Wan and Anakin handing her various objects, hilarious).

You're smarter than Dave Filoni and I stand by that.

[faith-alhazred]

@peterlorrefanpage enlisted me for '9 albums you listen to' and it's kinda challenging, as i am not actually album person, more 'listen this dozen song for the next two years' person 😂 but i will try my best.

1. 'Addicted to Bad Ideas: Peter Lorre's Twentieth Century' by The World/Inferno Friendship Society.

Must have of every Peter Lorre fan, i guess. Speaks to my soul.

2. 'Devil's Dozen' by Fiddler's Green. As well as 'Heyday' and '25 Barney Roses'.

Music, that charges me with energy. 'Perfect Gang' is the song that i use to explain to my players which vibe there would be in Dead But games (Dead But is my own PbtA TRPG about living dead who leave their graves to go to the party or club).

3. 'Wolfrider's Reflection' by Julia Ecklar

As well as a few records of Julia, that wasn't included to that album. I grew up on ElfQuest comics and i feel deeply bounded to this universe. 'Going Back' gives me goosebumps every single time.

4. 'Pirate for the Rum' by Stormfrun. I found this album a few years ago, during one of the most stressful periods in my work life, and it really was like that 'and the new man was chosen to lead our raging crew - but this man is a woman, i'm telling you it's true'. Yeah, it's me. I am the woman.

5. 'Father of Invention' by Professor Elemental. It's time for a confession - i really like rap. I love rhythm, i love when a performer not just sings, but talks to you, buuuut. I am absolutely not into american 'money, bitches, drugs' rap, so when i encountered chap-hop, where on the place where you'd expect 'f*** off, b****' goes 'I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience, sir' - it was immediately sold to me.

6. 'The Vampyre at the Harpsichord' by Verne Langdon. Oh my, this guy is brilliant. His music has the right vibe of a vintage horror movie. Also I use one of his tracks as my basic rington.

7. 'Ooky Spooky' by Aurelio Volraire. Another guy with a great sense of humor, this particular song is hilarious.

8. 'Boo York', Monster High motion picture soundtrack. Another fandom i am into, catchy energetic songs that speak to me a lot.

9. 'Komik' by Komik Mashrabov. That's very local thing. When i was working in a hotel there was a courier guy, tajik, very modest and polite. But after I told him i quit in two weeks, he got much more friendly, and it turned out he not just a courier, he is also a rapper and stand-up comedian. His 'modest guy' social mask was broken, he was always a fountain of improvisation, jokes and awkward flirt. I still excited how dramatically his personality changed in such short time. So, he gave me couple of his tracks, and still i listen to them time by time, trying to improve my tajik listening (still can't get anything but couple of words, honestly). Also he has really good voice and know how to use it.

Well, that's all, folks 😁

I have only couple of mutuals here, and two of them have already joined the flashmob, so i can tag only @ilovemesomevincentprice - absolutely no pressure, though 🌿

[lynxindisguise]

congrats on surviving your shift!! i couldn't decide what genre of cursed prompt to send you, so since you survived your shift, let's pretend sirius didn't survive whatever killed him today. very much UNLIKE how I remember canon we'll just pretend he's dead for now.

do ghosts cry? can they cry? does he miss crying? does it enhance the victorian heroine factor or does it diminish it? are there different ugly/pretty crying parameters for ghosts? (you don't have to answer all of them, I got a bit excited about the science of ghost crying there sorry)

hmmmm sirius dying what a wild concept, so foreign to me…. but alright we’ll allow it for the sake of SPOOKY OOKY GHOST CRYING.

canonically, ghosts can cry because we know that moaning myrtle cries often. I think the appearance of ghost sirius’s crying is hauntingly lovely—delicate glowing tears, definite victorian heroine factor. but the noises are far more blood-curdling and unsettling. it’s less ugly crying and more scary crying.

now when he possesses remus that’s a different matter entirely. according to lynx canon, the tear volume and noises are doubled, and the explosiveness of cry is off the charts. you’ve got remus’s facial blotching paired with sirius’s expressiveness, all in all making for the supreme spooky ugly cry.