#pumpkin appreciation post

[charliecraftsthings]

Pumpkin Berets Appreciation Post

I recently took more photos of my crochet work as part of an application. I'm so pleased to be able to put this mannequin head to use! Some of these are for sale; contact me for more information.

Here's an older green pumpkin beret:

Newer grey-mix pumpkin beret:

Orange cotton pumpkin beret:

Green-tweed pumpkin beret:

[daisyswift3]

A Summary of the 🎃 Messages--The Overarching Story

So I just realized sth abt the 🎃 messages while listening to ttpd—they’re in chronological order!! I am going to try to give a summary of these messages and explain why I believe this. This album has made 99% of her songs, mvs, metaphors, and symbols make perfect sense. There were always some things like getaway car, cruel summer, and the palm trees in rep era that I could never quite figure out but now it's all crystal clear. It's like ttpd is the last piece of the puzzle needed to make everything fall right into place and to see the whole messy complicated story. One thing I want you to take note of as you read this summary is how incredibly consistent Taylor is w her use of metaphors and symbols. This makes solving the puzzle that is her music more like solving a cypher that you can know you solved correctly bc all the symbols will fit together perfectly just like a secret code. Once you understand what one symbol represents you now know what it means every time you see it. Every word or phrase she uses is intentional and there's not a single easter egg that's out of place. You'll notice in ttpd there are several words and phrases that are repeated bc she wants us to know that certain songs are related. 🎃 anon said there would be many connections and foretellings in the messages that we could find if we held them to the light in the coming unfoldings, and boy they were not wrong. So w/out further ado let's get into it (just a warning though this will be pretty lengthy so grab your favorite drink, some snacks, and get comfy).

1st message: The first one starts right before rep era when her rep started going down and she started feuding w her record label. These are the obstacles she didn’t see coming that made her slam on the (getaway bike) brakes (which were cut so she had to use her foot to slow down) and not come out. The "heel damaged" could be a reference to Achilles' heel since this was a weak spot she didn't see or it could be a reference to Jesus' heel being bruised in the 1st ever biblical prophecy (see this post for more on that). This was her first big pivot and change of plans. Many ppl have theorized that TS6 was originally going to be a different album--perhaps lover/daylight--but kimye and BMR got in the way of that. This would explain why she wears an outfit w palm trees on it while cutting the wings off her TS6 jet. She spray paints "reputation" on it which seems to indicate it was a haphazard last minute change of plans (x). Plus the endgame mv has palm trees and shows Miami, Florida (which I think is related to Florida!!! but I'll have to get to that another time) connecting it to "Island breeze and lights down low, no one has to know...In the middle of the night in my dreams I know I'm gonna be with you so I take my time." Miami is the paradise where her endgame happens. This all seems to indicate she was ready for "daylight" or "paradise" during rep era but had to pivot.

The Prophecy: “Hand on the throttle, thought I caught lightning in a bottle, Oh but it’s gone again"

2nd message: This is abt the lover rollout that started in spring of 2019 -> "The time draws near, springtime sunshine causing small drips and fractures." The ice castle likely represents the lover house (her music empire, past eras, and closet) since she burns it down w a match just like she does in the eras tour visuals and midnights -> "You strike a match and blow the smoke toward the structure that shelters and protects you. Suddenly, you hear a crack, a crunch, a whoosh. There is a sudden give beneath you, and you tumble through the broken, melting hole in your palace." The ivy reference (spring breaks loose, the time is near) just solidifies my theory that ivy is a song abt an eventual kaylor reunion that will happen before she burns all the files and deserts all her past lives (eras).

Lover era was her second big pivot. I believe she knew there was a very good chance Scott B would sell her masters all the way back in rep era hence why she says "I'm always waiting for you just to cut to the bone, devils roll the dice" (see this post for more on that). "However, in this suddenness you find yourself still somehow underprepared, kicking yourself for the time you squandered by wallowing in the seeming endlessness of your predicament" -> Her being unprepared to come out along w the mastersheist is what caused her to miss her 2nd opportunity to come out. She was so caught off guard that it made her indecisive. And so she played it safe and stayed in the closet -> "Our coming of age has come and gone, suddenly this summer it's clear I never had the courage of my convictions as long as danger is near." Remember how I said Taylor is very consistent w her use of metaphors? Well I made a post a while back explaining how folkmore represents the seasons bc summer = daylight and winter = closeting and folkmore was Taylor trying to come to terms w her 2nd failed coming out hence the grey and beige ("I'm just a paperweight in shades of greige"); so that means the ice castle = winter = closeting and springtime sunshine = almost daylight = almost being out of the closet (and spring was also the time when the lover rollout started so it has a more literal 2nd meaning to it as well).

The Albatross: "So I crossed my thoughtless heart spread my wings like a parachute, I'm the albatross, I swept in at the rescue." [I think there's a good chance this song is abt Scoots so it makes sense the parachute metaphor, which relates to her masters and failed coming out, would be used in this song]

The Bolter: "By all accounts, she almost drowned when she was 6 in frigid water...It feels like the time she fell through the ice then came out alive." ['Long story short I survived']

3rd message: This is abt the mastersheist (diamond heist) during the summer of 2019. It parallels the I Can See You mv exactly (see this post). In hindsight it now makes perfect sense why 1989 tv didn't have any mvs--bc the Fortnight mv is a direct continuation of the ICSY mv! Before the Fortnight mv, the ICSY mv was the most recent one. She didn't want anything between those 2 mvs so that it was obvious they were directly related. Her losing her masters and her 2nd opportunity at daylight is what drove her to insanity and caused her to end up in the asylum -> "I find the artifacts, cried over a hat...I trace the evidence" // "And so I enter into evidence my tarnished coat of arms, etc" | "Is it okay? Is it you? Or have they come to take me away?"

"Mere feet away from the light of freedom...Your getaway bike begins to leave without you, sparks flying as the tires try and fail to slow down for you. You have frozen in this moment of indecision" // "It was the great escape, the prison break, the light of freedom on my face...he was runnin' after us, I was screamin', 'Go, go, go!'" -> There are 2 getaway car mentions in this message which emphasizes its importance. This is likely for a few reasons: 1) To explain what the song getaway car was actually abt--her feud w BMR, not the beards 2) To show that message 1 and 3 are related; the getaway bike is mentioned in both since both are abt her masters 3) To show that the lover era pivot was actually just history repeating itself; this is what Cassandra and the Prophecy are abt.

Cassandra (notice the piano melody from mad woman): “So they set my life in flames, I regret to say do you believe me now? ['If I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too']…They knew, they knew, they knew the whole time that I was onto somethin', [She knew there was a good chance her masters would be sold as shown in cruel summer] The family, the pure greed, the Christian chorus line" ['Now he sits on his thrown in his palace of bones praying to his greed']

Fortnight: "I was supposed to be sent away But they forgot to come and get me I was a functioning alcoholic 'Til nobody noticed my new aesthetic [Her fans didn't notice the shift from rainbows and pastels to black mourning clothes during the lover era] All of this to say I hope you're okay But you're the reason [The you in the song is Taylor; she's the reason she decided to stay in the closet] And no one here's to blame But what about your quiet treason?" [Taylor's indecisiveness is what led her to not come out the 2nd time]

loml (This is from Karlie's pov): "Mr. Steal Your Girl, then make her cry...You shit-talked me under the table talking rings [Paper Rings] and talking cradles, [Lover mv] I wish I could un-recall how we almost had it all, [They were so close to daylight]...It was legendary, It was momentary ['I touch you (daylight/sunshine) for only a fortnight']...Our field of dreams engulfed in fire" ['So they set my life in flames']

Florida!!!: "Little did you know your home's really only a town you're just a guest in, ['I touch you (daylight/sunshine) for only a fortnight'; 'And so a touch that was my birthright became foreign'] So you work your life away just to pay for a timeshare down in Destin" [Taylor did all this masterminding and planning just to end up still stuck in the closet and bearding and only being able to see her lover in stolen private moments]

Fresh Out the Slammer: "Another [cruel] summer, taking cover, rolling thunder, he don't understand me"

The Bolter: "But it always ends up with a town car speeding" [getaway car]

Peter: "Forgive me Peter, my lost fearless leader, in closets like cedar preserved from when we were just kids, Is it something I did?" [Peter is herself; 'I'd be a fearless leader' and the fearless album; 'closets' is obvious]

How Did It End?: "We were blind to unforeseen circumstances, We learned the right steps to different dances, and fell victim to interlopers' glances, Lost the game of chance, what are the chances?...It's happening again" [This is the 2nd time she's lost the opportunity to come out]

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart: "I'm so obsessed with him but he avoids me like the plague" [They're in love w each other but can't be together in public; 'Break my soul in 2 looking for you but you're right here']

Down Bad: "For a moment [a fortnight] I knew cosmic love, now I'm down bad crying at the gym...'Fuck it if I can't have him I might just die it would make no difference'" ['You (Taylor) told Lucy you'd kill yourself if I (Karlie) ever leave']

5th message: Out of all the messages this is the one I'm the most uncertain abt. But I think it is possibly about JA leaving before his contract was up. "You are in a kitchen. Not your kitchen, of course. Your kitchen is soft and cozy and sacred. THIS kitchen is hard and cold and purely functional" -> This is not the sacred kitchen from Cornelia Street that she shares w her lover, this is a PR stunting kitchen that's a false imitation of the real domestic bliss she has. A few yrs ago kaylors were talking abt how Karlie has a kitchen that she only uses for PR/social media purposes so pumpkin anon could've been trying to remind us of that. These 3 messages from flag 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 anon make me think the breakup happened sooner than planned.

The July 29 message wasn’t meant to be posted until Oct 8 since it was hinting at the Toe breakup happening 5 months later in mid March, 2023.

The Nov 23 message mentions a “shift of footing” which we all agreed meant Toe 🦶 was over. The Dec 5 message w “the need to flex is sometimes necessary” directly following the Toe breakup message is what really makes me think it wasn’t planned. They had to pivot/flex but “other milestones are resolute” meaning the endgame is still the same—K and T will still reunite and both will be out of the closet at a certain time. Plus there’s the “…” at the end of the Nov 23 message which also indicates the Dec 5 one is a direct continuation of that message.

To add more credibility to this theory, RFI and SIG also have ellipses. RFI always seemed like it was supposed to be a direct continuation of SIG bc SIG sets up the “chess game” w her and her lover doing magic and pulling the wool over everyone's eyes, and RFI is when this chess game officially begins, "baby let the games begin."

Some other kaylors said they thought “the need to flex” meant that she wanted to give anti hero more time on the charts so she was flexing or showing off. But I think it makes more sense for it to be related to London Boy himself and not having him as a beard since that’s the whole purpose of having the 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 flag. I could be wrong though.

So Long, London: “Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away…Holding tight to your quiet resentment…Every breath feels like rarest air when you’re not sure if he wants to be there” [This may mean that JA kept trying to break free from the contract and Taylor kept trying to convince him to stay but it didn’t work]. "My spine split from carrying us up the hill, Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill" ['They are bowing out, leaving you with double the workload, now half burnt and smoking. Their duties weren’t finished, and yet there is nothing you can do to make them stay. Shaken by this loss, chaos descends upon the team. Most roll up their sleeves to work harder']. "And my friends said it isn't right to be scared, every day of a love affair" [There were several blind items talking abt how JA was hooking up w men in a very unsubtle way; this could be what the 'cheating husband' mentions in ttpd are abt]. “Two graves, one gun” [Makes me think of a smoking gun which could be what the 'smell of smoke' in the message was alluding to. Maybe JA threatened to reveal her secrets if she didn't let him go and he had the smoking gun evidence to do so which was the recipe card. 'This time is different. Because you know this person actually has the means to share the secret menu, and that they have enough proof to make the waiting guests believe them.' -> I mean if anyone could convince the general public it would be the man who was supposed to be her boyfriend for 6 yrs]. “And you say I abandoned the ship but I was going down w it, my white knuckle dying grip” ['But you have never been one to lay your armor down. When you fail, you fail gloriously. When you go, you go kicking and screaming']. "I didn't opt in to be your odd man out" [She didn't want to be his beard just like he didn't want to be hers; and odd man out is a game that's played w 3 ppl where the odd man is the loser who's eliminated bc he didn't have a match]. "I founded the club she's heard great things about" [The Tortured Man Club -> The Tortured Poets Department that she's chairman of]

7th message: This message is all abt the domestic bliss she has away from the public eye. She has worked so hard to make sure her secrets are safe by building a tall impenetrable fence. However, she chooses to intentionally blow a dandelion full of secrets--perhaps ttpd is the dandelion w all the songs being the florets or secrets. There is one floret in particular that she’s worried abt—my guess is it’s Robin since it’s so damning if you know what to look for. Plus the song Robin parallels this message perfectly and evokes the same imagery. And to add even more credibility to this theory, the lyric vid for Robin has dandelion florets in the background. See these posts: (x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x). "You are walking through your yard. It's one of your favorite places, all sprawling garden rows" -> Betty's garden; "your wife waters flowers," etc. "There are daisies - so many daisies - in every shade of your rainbow"--I don't think I even need to explain this. "Your lover and your fresh baked buns are safe. (The buns, of course, are in the oven turning golden as you speak. It's an old family recipe, jotted lovingly on a recipe card.)" -> The recipe card is perhaps a picture or some other sort of smoking gun evidence of Taylor's family and it connects the 5th and 7th messages together. And the meaning of "buns in the oven" is pretty obvious. "Golden" refers to Karlie.

Robin: "Higher and higher, wilder and lighter" [This may be a double entendre--not only is she encouraging this child to bounce higher on his trampoline or swing higher, she is also encouraging the dandelion floret (the song Robin) to fly higher and go out into the world after she blows on it]

The Albatross: "Wild winds are death to the candle...One bad seed kills the garden" [This may be connected to the dandelion metaphor and I believe there are many layers to these lyrics; wild winds can carry the dandelion seeds into other ppl's yards; if Taylor's secret gets out this can destroy the domestic bliss she has i.e. kill her metaphorical garden or candle; 'love's a fragile little flame it can burn out']

I Hate It Here: "I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind people need a key to get to, the only one is mine" [There is only one way to get into this garden since a tall impenetrable fence surrounds it; there are other layers in these lyrics as well like the escapism aspect of it]

But Daddy I Love Him: "I'm having his baby, no I'm not but you should see your faces" [Bc it's Karlie that had the babies]

8th message: This entire message parallels the Bolter. I believe this is abt Taylor finally choosing her lover over her reputation and choosing to intentionally destroy it in order to meet her lover down at the bottom like 🌋 anon mentioned. This may be the purpose of the whole Ratty debacle—to tarnish her image (by jumping into shark infested waters) so that when kaylor are together in public again her fans won’t be able to hate on KK w/out being hypocrites bc Taylor has already done all the things she knows they’ll accuse KK of, like being connected to someone who’s quite problematic. I believe this takes place from May 2023-now since this is when MH and her started “dating.” The use of all lowercase in the 🌋 messages may be a reference to the reputation album title to indicate that this is going to be a repeat of rep era but this time the damage to her rep will be intentional. I find it very interesting that the Feb 20th 🌋 message is the only one that has a word capitalized and the word that's capitalized is "Gold." This is in contrast to "fools gold" which is not capitalized or colored.

The self-loathing is palpable in Taylor's music (x) and it is displayed heavily in this message as well. I think it's possible the "enemy" is actually just Taylor herself or her public persona to be more exact. She is her own worst enemy; the Anti Hero mv illustrates this. She's the one that spreads the dandelions in message 7 which is what the enemy does in this message; she's the bear, and in the Bolter she (real Taylor) tames the bear (Taylor the brand). I believe TSMWEL could possibly be abt herself as well. I mean TSMWEL literally has "TS" in the track title. The clean version of the Bolter has the line "Then she'll call him a bore" which parallels TSMWEL, "You said normal girls were boring." It's as if real Taylor is doing an UNO reverse on Taylor the brand by treating her public persona the same way she treated real Taylor for years. This is very reminiscent of the Archer, "I've been the archer I've been the prey." I think TSMWEL, while it is abt herself, is simultaneously abt Scott B. And the reason for this relates back to what I said abt the 2nd and 3rd 🎃 messages--she blames both Scott AND herself for her failed coming out. The mastersheist threw her for a loop, yes, but she could've still come out anyway were it not for her indecisiveness. And I haven't have time to fully analyze MBOBHFT yet but I think it's similar where it can either be read from Karlie's perspective to Taylor after the 2019 failed coming out or from Taylor's perspective to Scott B/the industry.

The Bolter: "But as she was leaving, it felt like breathing, ['When I was drowning that's when I could finally breathe'] All her fuckin' lives flashed before her eyes...He [the 'enemy'] was a cad, wanted her bad just like any good trophy hunter and she liked the way it tastes taming a bear, making him care watching him jump then pulling him under" [This connects to the 10th message: 'You limp over uneven ground, smiling at the pain of the shark bite with each excruciating step - replaying the satisfying splash as you finally chose her over the world. As you grabbed the enemy and dove into the infested waters']

loml: "The coward claimed he was a lion" ['You’re a selfish asshole. So much of your fear is your own. You wince at your cowardice like it is a gaping wound. You so often find yourself unable to meet your own eyes. You scramble into shadows like a black cat. Scared, even, of being scared...You are a coward, but you are not a fool']

I Hate It Here: "I was a debutant in another life but now I seem to be scared to go outside" [In another life she already came out but in this one she's too scared to even leave her house let alone come out]

The Tortured Poets Department (This is from Karlie's pov): "You're in self-sabotage mode throwing spikes down on the road"

9th message: This message is abt her finishing her 11th album, the last chapter of her 11 part story, and then sending it out into the world like a message in a bottle (the Manuscript). So I'm assuming this would take place on April 19, 2024, the release date of ttpd. "You are sitting on a beach, cold and windswept. The sea is dark and angry before you." -> This may be the same beach and sea from the folkmore era. "The sun sets in muted colors." -> Describing the sunset colors as muted is quite interesting since sunsets typically have very vivid colors; this makes me think it's related to the eras tour visuals during the transition from august to illicit affairs (which I explained the meaning of in this post), and the folkmore color palette was mainly muted colors. "You finish scrawling on the parchment. Your pen dries up as you reach the end of a story in 11 parts." // "Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen," "my veins of pitch black ink." She is sick of having to dilute her truth through metaphors and allegories which is why she is a tortured poet -> "Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die." Plus there's the "parchment" which she mentioned many times during her eras tour speeches which relates it to the folkmore era (x)(x)(x). "And now it is just a matter of time. The dripping of candle wax. The ticking of a clock." -> (x).

I recommend reading this post which explains how the Manuscript, ATW short film, message in a bottle, the story of us, and 4th, 9th, and 10th 🎃 messages are related. Many ppl pointed out that the Manuscript lyric vid looks like a movie script, and she's been referencing films and books a lot recently which makes me think there's a good chance she's going to release a film and book abt her coming out story. The 9th message and the lyrics in the Manuscript make it clear that Taylor's discography as a whole IS the manuscript i.e. it's the author's (Taylor's) draft of her story that is getting ready to be published. In academia, a manuscript is a draft of your research that you send in to be peer reviewed and if it's accepted it then becomes a published academic article.

The Manuscript: "And the years passed like scenes of a show, the professor said to write what you know, [She's equating her life to a story w the different eras being different scenes or chapters] The only thing that's left is the manuscript, one last souvenir from my trip to your shores, [message in a bottle; 'It may wash up on a sunny beach in Florida, or a rocky shore in the northwest'] Now and then I reread the manuscript but the story isn't mine anymore" ['Once you blow a dandelion, you never get it back. It isn’t yours anymore']

The Bolter: "But she's got the best stories"

10th message: This is a direct continuation of the 8th message and takes place right before she comes out of the closet (the wooden door in the woods). So this would take place after her rep has already been destroyed which I don’t think we’ve gotten to yet. My guess is that things will start ramping up in the next few months. She may start being papped w all her previous beards looking happy w them or sth similar which is all she’d need to do to show that the relationships were all fake and she’s been lying this whole time. This may be the “chaos” that 🫚 anon was referring to (see this post). This lines up with the blood moon glitch vinyl, representing chaos and disruption, being the 2nd quarter of the yr according to the midnights clock (4-6 or April-June, 2024). Plus many ppl think BDILH is abt MH--and Taylor meant for this to happen bc this album is full of red herrings--and in that song she says "He (MH) was chaos" so this might be a hint that the bearding shenanigans are gonna ramp up. Of course things are already plenty chaotic now w everyone thinking ttpd is abt 3 different men, one of which is pretty problematic, so perhaps this is all ginger was referring to. Taylor calling herself "the Bolter" has 2 meanings: 1) She is a coward who often runs away from danger 2) The 2nd more positive interpretation is that she knows "when it's time to go." I think it's very telling that ITTG is the last track on the deluxe edition of evermore and comes right after RWYLM, a song abt being stuck in the closet after the 2019 failed coming out. She's saying that she's not going to stay there forever(more).

The Bolter: "But none of it is changing that the chariot is waiting, ['The story of 2 princesses. No place for a prince'; the Cinderella metaphor (x)] Hearts are hers for the breaking, There's escape in escaping...Ended with the slam of a [closet] door but she's got the best stories, You can be sure that as she was leaving it felt like freedom" [The 6/21/2020 ♠️ riddle spells out 'They Are Free']

11th message: This message takes place after midnight at 3am on Nov 1 after she’s gone through the wooden door. In this post I explain how 3am connects to the witching hr or devil's hr. The fact that this takes place right after Halloween is quite significant since it is a day dedicated to remembering the dead, and death and ghosts are a big theme in ttpd. This symbolizes how after Taylor kills her old self (by dragging her into shark infested waters), she will resurrect as a new version of herself and leave the past behind her. And in doing these things, she will finally be able to go back to her figurative home, her cabin, that she was exiled from. -> "I think I've seen this film before so I'm leaving out the side door," "And I was catching my breath, floors of a cabin creaking under my step...I had a feeling so peculiar this pain wouldn't be for evermore." "The flame🕯️ finally🕯️flickers🌬️OUT" -> The match that started the "goddamn blaze in the dark" is no longer needed now that the lover house (her closet) has burned down, so the flame flickers out. This metaphor shows up in Peter as well, "But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light," where the light dying represents the woman losing hope that a coming out will happen. Notice in this message from present anon that "Goodbye" has a capital letter G which I believe links it to "Gold" in the volcano message that was mentioned earlier. This may indicate that Karlie is the woman/neighbor holding the light and waiting for Taylor's return home. The Dec 26th 🌋 message is likely from Karlie's pov in this case.

Fresh Out the Slammer: "Now pretty baby I'm runnin back home to you, Fresh out the slammer I know who my first call will be to...But it's gonna be alright I did my time...Get the matches, toss the ashes off the ledge, [the burning of the lover house] As I said in my letters [the anon messages this corner of the internet has been receiving? Could also just represent her songs] now that I know better I will never lose my baby again...Swirled you into all of my poems ['My mind turns your life into folklore (literally and figuratively)']...To the house where you still wait up and that porch light [jack-o-lantern] gleams" [see this post abt the porch]

The Alchemy (This is from Karlie's pov): "What if I told you I'm back?...I haven't come around in so long, but I'm coming back so strong, ['But I come back stronger than a 90's trend'] Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me"

imgonnagetyouback: "Push the reset button we're becoming something new...Even if it's handcuffed I'm leaving here with you, Bygones will be bygone eras fading into gray, We broke all the pieces but still want to play the game...I'm gonna get you back"

[wacky-nameless-inventor-24]

Picking out pumpkins :3 🍂🎃🧣

[respectthepetty]

A Suar Appreciation Post

This is Suar Kritsanaphong.

He has been in the color-coded feast You'll Never Eat Alone,

the sports-themed You're My Sky,

and the soulmates-not-soulmates La Pluie.

That's it!

And yet I want him in so much more.

This man can create chemistry out of thin air.

He can cry like his favorite plant withered up without notice.

He can smile and brighten any moment in any situation.

Basically, I'll trust him in whatever he acts in next without question because he has proven that even if everything else is meh, he is awe!

He is a tiny pumpkin and needs to be appreciated.

[pizzacrustdisposal]

orange vegetables love to be spiced and baked in batters they told me themselves

[bugsoda]

[tenzvar]

Sometimes my drawings of warpo look sort of pumpkin-like, so I figured I'd draw them together!

[isopodonanescalator]

OKAY WAIT NOW IM CURIOUS HOW MANY OF YALL LIKE CANDY CORN

I PERSONALLY THINK CANDY CORN IS LOVELY

[mysteriouspumpkincity]

Mysteries of Pumpkin City Chapter 1: Pages 1-6

Next>>

-

And so it begins…

What’s happening?

[veros-diary]

Happy Thanksgiving!

¡Feliz día de acción de gracias!

[alienspacequeensworld]

Boyfriend Appreciation thankyou for taking me on this date 🧡🖤🦇🍂

[appreciationmachine]

best day ever☕️

[500-moths-in-a-trenchcoat]

for the new year, i have decided to make a couple edits and additions to the almighty Calendar. happy 2024.

IT JUST HAPPENS

DAY 15 GIVE IT UP FOR DAY 15

Thursday the 20th

The Fifth of Wednesday

Second Week of May: Eurovision

Sometime in June: That One Halloween Post Starts Circulating

Sometime in July: Dancing Pumpkin Man Video/Gif

WEEKLY EVENTS (at least the ones i celebrate)

Every Monday: Garfield Hates Mondays

Every Tuesday: Tom Servo Tuesday

Every Wednesday: It Is Wednesday My Dudes

Every Thursday: Out of Touch Thursday

Every Friday: Flat Fuck Friday

Every Saturday: Sea Slug Saturday

Every Sunday: Energy Sword Sunday

YEARLY EVENTS

January 1: Copyright Expiration Day

January 8: Spiders Georg Day

January 16: Appreciate a Dragon Day

January 18: Bug Race

January 29: Threshold Day

All of February: Funguary

ALSO All of February: Femslash February

February 3: WOE, VANILLA EXTRACT BE UPON YE

February 13: Galentines Day

February 14: Aromantic/Asexual Day

March 9: Miku Day

March 10: Mario Day

March 14: Pi Day

March 15: Ides of March

March 23: Ever Given Got Stuck Today

April 1: Mishapocalypse

April 2: Dashcon Announcement Anniversary

April 3: Dannypocalypse

April 8: Rex Manning Day

ALSO April 8: MARGARET THATCHER IS DEAD

April 13: Neil Banging Out The Tunes

ALSO April 13: Homestuck Day

April 20: haha 420 blaze it

April 25: The Perfect Date

April 28: Ed Balls Day

April 30: It's Gonna Be May

All of May: Mermay

May 3: Beginning of Dracula Daily

May 4: May the 4th Be With You

May 5: Revenge of the Fifth

May 25: The Glorious 25th of May

All of June: Pride Month

ALSO All of June: IT'S HALLOWEEN TIME TO GET SPOOKY

June 5: Barricade Day

ALSO June 5: RONALD REAGAN IS DEAD

June 12: Another Homestuck Day

June 16: Let Papyrus Say Fuck

June 22: Summerween

All of July: Disability Pride Month

July 11-13: Dashcon Anniversary

July 20: Moon Landing

September 8: The Queen Is Dead and Sans Undertale Killed Her

September 11: Mole Interest Monday

September 19: Talk Like A Pirate Day

September 21: DO YOU REMEMBER-

All of October: SKELETON WAR

ALSO All of October: People Draw A Lot Month? (so many names)

October 3: Mean Girls Day

ALSO October 3: Fullmetal Alchemist Day

October 13: Treat Yo' Self

October 20: Unnecessary Feelings Day

October 31: HALLOWEEN

November 5: honestly what didn't happen that day

November 19: Goncharov

November 29: HENRY KISSINGER IS DEAD

All of December: Will the Gävle Goat Get Destroyed Again?

December 10: Please, It's Christmas

December 12: Hawaii Part 2

December 23: Christmas Adam

December 24: ALMOST CHRISTMAS MEANS IT WASN'T CHRISTMAS

ALSO December 24: Cabinet Man Day

December 27: Porn Ban Effective Today

[seattlesellie]

e. williams — moonflower.

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

synopsis: it’s ellie’s birthday, and you have three gifts for her. a moonflower bouquet, the latest savage starlight, and a pin from joel. maybe, you even have a fourth one.

warnings: smut (mdni), established relationship, dom!ellie, sub!reader, inexperienced reader, loss of virginity (r!), first time everything, loads of praise, loads of romance, cute little slaps, and as weird as it is to include this in these warnings; mentions of joel and ellie’s complicated relationship.

an: finally finished it. this is very very fluffy, as smutty as it may be. if you love flowers this one’s for you <3 i truly could have made this longer but i was super self conscious so i might post a little blurb instead!! constructive criticism and all comments n discussions are very much appreciated. thank you for being patient and sweet i love u 💗

enveloped up in a baby blue ribbon, it sits pretty on top of your duvet. the latest edition of “savage starlight” — ellie’s favorite comics series, and a bouquet of flowers. when you picked them out just for her— forehead glistening under the radiant june sun, you noticed a singular flower that set itself apart from the others. blinding white, trumpet shaped— it’s lemon fragrance wafted through the thick air. it's petals were curled up, but you decided to keep it nevertheless. you’ve never seen one quite like it. when you brought it to your house, along with the fresh daisies and the garden roses, you noticed something bizarre, and oh so beautiful.

the odd flower bloomed underneath the moonlight that snuck itself inside the big window of your room. as the white petals unfurled, there you stood— awestruck.

⋆˙⟡♡

you decided to bring it over to louisa, the frail old lady who ran the jackson community garden.

“s’quite beautiful, isn’t it?” you told proudly, taking a whiff of the flowers creamy white petals. louisa ran her fingertips delicately over the flowers green stem, and just like you— louisa was awestruck.

“oh dear, it certainly is. how did you… manage to find it?” louisa probed, and your heart skipped a beat. your relationship with ellie was new, and fresh as a daisy. your face flushed, but you told louisa— your precious confidant, nevertheless. “ellie’s birthday’s coming up soon… so i, was picking up some flowers for her. s’not much, i know… but,” you scratched your arm, feeling extra timid. “i think ellie will like them. i… hope”

louisa smiled soft heartedly, the aged skin around the sides of her eyes folding itself and forming three little lines. somehow, it felt like the old lady knew more about you two than you did. “she’d be a fool not to”, she assured, and pressed tightly on your shoulder.

“i would have asked you if you were in love… but, no need to.”

“how come?”

“it simply shows, pumpkin’”

louisa sighed deeply, and began guiding you towards the humble old basement, where she stored all of her gardening books.

ipomoea alba, the tropical white morning-glory, jimsonweed, or for those of us who are a tad scatterbrained— moonflower. the moonflower, is the most romantic flower of all. it is dreamy, and mysterious, and it yearns for the warm embrace of the sun, but it also requires a cold caress of shade. it slumbers amidst the daylight, closing and hiding its delicate petals up, but during the night— it blooms, and it’s magnificent. as wispy and precious as the moonflower may be, the bloom may also be deadly.

it reminded you of her.

⋆˙⟡♡

ellie and you had numerous conversations about things that were… hypothetical. if you were a planet, which planet would you be?, if you were an animal, which one suits you best, would you say?, make it more specific, even— if you were a bug, what bug would you be? ellie told you were a butterfly, and that she would be a spider.

“don’t… spiders eat butterflies?” you probed, your head resting on top of her shoulder. it was a quiet, chilly night in jackson, and for some reason, being around ellie made you feel scorching. ellie huffed and chuckled, “yeah, think they do”

“well… that sucks” you noted, as a loose strand of ellie’s auburn hair tickled your cheek. ellie thought for a while, and then chuckled again. she did it quite a lot, chuckle to herself without saying a word. “i wouldn’t… eat you though. i’d… build a little web around you. protect you from the other spiders. you could be my personal butterfly… pet, thing”

you hummed, being caged in ellie’s spider web didn’t actually seem all that bad. in fact, it had a certain charm to it. but, wait… “wouldn’t being around me make you hungry?”

ellie’s breath caged in her throat.

it already does.

“guess i’d have to fight against my urges” she rasped, and you nodded.

if you were a butterfly, ellie would be the brave spider who protects you.

if you were a lily; who blooms during the daylight, the resurrection of spring, the goddess oestre, enlightened and wise, ellie was your missing piece. the moon to your sun, and the darkness to your light. the universe thrives because of it’s harmonious balance, and so do you.

⋆˙⟡♡

sugar, flour, cocoa powder, salt, two fresh eggs, a cup of milk, and one cane of sweet vanilla. the chocolate cake was damn near perfect. writing her name on the cake with a thick layer of vanilla icing was extremely precious and necessary to you. woefully, the can was nearing on empty, so— the cake read; “happy birth, el”

you impishly giggled to yourself. sounds like ellie’s going to give birth. with one more dip of your finger inside the rich ganache, you came to a firm and final conclusion— it was heavenly, the perfect balance of sweet and chochlaty bitterness. the secret ingredient that must have made it as amazing as it was, was the espresso powder you traded for a bargain. or maybe, maybe it was love.

“ugh, quit it. cheesy” you silently mumbled to yourself.

⋆˙⟡♡

the weather was hot, and the air felt thick. you always deemed it funny, ellie being a june baby and hating the heat. the town bustled with noise of chatter on a busy monday mornin’, and maria stood with her arms crossed against her chest in the corner. she seemed to be in the midst of scolding a guilty looking tommy, and next to them, were a handful of children giggling in the background.

balancing the chocolate cake, alongside with the gifts sitting inside the brown paper bag (with the pretty blue ribbon you clasped onto it), and the flower bouquet was hard. waddling around the town, on your way to ellie’s house, no wonder you nearly dropped it all on the floor when you bumped into a large man, that hit your front like a stone.

“oh— uh, easy there, kiddo”

you could recognize that rasp and that texas twang everywhere, even when your eyes were squinted, avoiding the rays of the sun.

joel.

you hastily managed to balance it all together again, apologizing profusely to the middle aged man— whomst you almost smashed the entire cake onto. he wore a black button up, it seemed… festive. huh. “headin’ to see ellie, i assume?” joel rasped.

you nodded and smiled politely. you’ve never been completely alone with joel, and most importantly, you’ve never talked to him about ellie. things between them were… complicated. you didn’t know why, and sometimes— you were too afraid to even ask. it all seemed too sensitive. ellie would nearly wince when his name was mentioned, and her eyes would fill with something that seemed like sorrow, or regret, or anger. usually, all of those emotions— all at once.

“that her gift?” he pointed towards the brown paper bag.

“mhm! savage starlight. s’the latest edition… i think”

joel smiled softly, and hummed in response. his eyes too, were filled with something that seemed to hold a droplet of sorrow and regret, but no anger though. different than ellie’s.

“she’s still into it, huh?”

“she’s obsessed” you giggled. truthfully, she had a good reason to be. savage stralight was fucking awesome, you grew to realize. it was even more awesome when she read it to you in the dark, cuddled up in her squeaky bed, holding a flashlight to illuminate the written words. when you dozed off, she’d continue reading out loud, maybe to herself, or maybe for your subconscious to absorb.

“i have… this, thing, uh—“ he shifted awkwardly, and began searching for something in his pockets. joel took it out, and showed it to you while holding it in his palm. the thing he mentioned, was a golden, diamond studded pin of the fallen apollo 1. it was beautiful, highly detailed, it’s unmistakable shine reflecting the rays of the sun.

“found it last week while i was patrollin’”

“it’s… woah” you marveled, running a delicate finger over the polished metal.

“is she… still into the space thing?” the stony man asked with a slightly shaky voice. something in you had to physically fight the urge to pull him into a warm hug.

“yeah… we… well, we went to look at the stars the other day”

joel placed the pin in your hand, and wrapped your fingers around it. “could you give it to her? don’ gotta say it’s from me. tell her you found it”

you nearly choked up.

“joel… you should come with me”

joel sighed, and smiled softly again. joel wasn’t into smiling, but you made ellie smile, and that made joel smile.

“maybe next birthday, kid”

joel, just like louisa, knew ellie loved you before she did. and joel, saw his girl turn from a sulky, sullen teenager, to someone who looked like she had something, someone, to live for.

⋆˙⟡♡

12:00pm, and exactly three knocks on ellie’s wooden door. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t filled with anxiousness. being anxious around ellie wasn’t a strange new feeling. you had butterflies swarming around your belly when she looked at you, had butterflies when she talked to you, especially when she used that one tone, when she got out of the shower with only a small towel wrapped around her glistening body, you had butterflies, or better yet— a painfully lage bee colony growing in your tummy. when she kissed you softly, the bees calmed down and were a little more subtle, you could imagine them having black oogly heart eyes— but when she kissed you roughly, forcefully against the wall (or against the concrete floor that one time), the bees buzzed uncontrollably, and somehow flew down to a lower part of your body. when she grabbed your waist and gave it a squeeze, as she ravished your mouth with her wet tongue, they went even lower and…

well, anyways— ellie made you nervous. handing her her gifts made you nervous and having her first birthday with you made you even more nervous. you were a fuzzy ball of nervousness and anticipation, and now ellie opened the door and you nearly dropped the cake on the ground.

again.

usually, ellie would greet you with a shy “hey”. exactly a week ago, she added a “babe” to it. (the belly bee colony buzzed and they were tremendously loud, you thought ellie could possibly hear them — so you had to hold on to your tummy) today, ellie greeted you with blown out eyes and a gasp. “oh…”

“happy birthday” you mumbled adorably as if it was a hushed little secret, too shy to look her in the eyes. ellie was too shy too, a coy smile painted on her lips, rosy cheeked, with her hands clamped in two fists inside her oversized grey sweater (it’s june, she would not let that hoodie go). her pupils were glued to the “happy birth, el” written in white icing.

when she felt bold enough to look you in the eyes after not speaking (just staring) for one whole minute, as soon as she caught your gaze— your orbs began dancing around everything you saw, purely avoiding her look but with a huge grin plastered on your sweet, overly excited face.

would it be stupid for ellie to tell you that she loved you right now? because it was getting incredibly hard not to.

instead of a (perhaps) misplaced i love you, ellie decided a pure “thank you” would be have to suffice. she held the door for you, and you shyly tiptoed in. when you placed the chocolate cake on top of the oakwood counter along with the paper bag, you felt ellie’s hands shyly creeping up to your waist, pulling you in a tight hug. “you really… really, shouldn’t have” she whispered. her voice was still groggy, lazy, raspy.

it was her morning voice.

funnily enough, this was your first time hearing it. you never stayed over past 2am— the night was dangerous in your eyes. the night meant going to sleep, it meant staying in her bed, and it meant sleeping with her inside of it. the idea of a night with ellie felt as if the bee colony in your stomach was about to erupt and explode and splatter everywhere.

“you know i don’t… celebrate these things” ellie rasped again, breaking you off from your idle thoughts. you placed your hand over hers, and giggled. “s’not a thing, el… it’s your birthday”, ellie hummed in agreement, and you continued. “besides, it’s an—“ she planted a soft, chaste kiss on your neck. it made you shudder and it made your voice break. “an… excuse to eat some cake”

“just cake?”, ellie sighed, her raspy voice tickling your cheek.

“mhm” you nodded, distracted as ever.

“whats in that paper bag then, huh?”

the flower only blooms during the night, and savage starlight was meant to be consumed with the help of a trusty ol’ flashlight, under a thick blanket. the sun was still out, so the moonflower slept. for the comics, you wouldn’t need a flashlight, and that would simply demolish all of the fun.

the sun was still out so unfortunately, ellie will have to sit and patiently wait.

you pull yourself out of her hug, and waltz away slowly. “well… paper bags for later”, you tilt your head, drawing out your words just to tease her and then some. “so, not gonna show you what’s in there”

ellie raises a brow, a slight half smirk creeping up on her face. saying ellie was a patient girl, would be similar to saying a cat doesn't walk on four. technically, it could… be biped, but— well, wouldn’t quite work. so similarly, patient and ellie couldn’t quite work either.

“you gonna say no to me on my birthday?” she jests, pulling her arms and crossing them over her grey hoodie ridden chest.

“oohh…” you nod twice, “so now you do celebrate these things?” you teasingly raise an eyebrow, mirroring her stance. ellie chuckles and it comes out from deep within her throat. she squints her eyes, “you’re such a tease”

she must not know one of the bee’s just stung the insides of your own stomach and dropped dead. or maybe it’s not dead yet, because you can still feel it’s erratic buzzing and the venom makes you feel as if you’re about to pass out.

“mhm… it’s okay, i’ll wait, babe” — there’s that babe again, and the little bee is definitely dead by now.

“can we eat the cake outside? s’nice, warm… we could do a picnic!” you chirp, each and every single one of your words laced with that syrupy sweetness that makes ellie melt.

ellie smiles and feels a little blush creeping up on the apples of her cheeks. “could do… whatever you want, it’s your cake” she states, and you roll your eyes at her sweet humility. “s’not my cake, it’s yours” you mutter serenely as you point towards the vanilla icing. “see? has your name on it and all”

ellie tries plunging a slender finger into the icing, a foolish attempt to taste it, but you slap it away, a faux pout forming on her face.

“can’t taste my own cake?”

“nope. outside” you speak, popping the p’.

“yes ma’am”

⋆˙⟡♡

you take a sip of the freshly squeezed lemonade, a droplet of sour and sweetness flowing down from the corner of your lips. ellie— propped up by her elbow, brings her thumb and wipes it away. “so messy” she jives playfully, putting the pad of her thumb in her mouth and joyfully sucks on it. she’s squinting her eyes, attempting to avoid the rays of the sun, and you giggle impishly. “can i finally taste my cake now?” she drawls.

impatient as ever, ellie doesn’t even bother pulling out the white plastic fork. instead, she shoves her hand into the cake and takes a big bite. her eyes shut as she devours it, humming at the taste. with her mouth full, she utters “happy birth, el, huh?”.

you breathlessly laugh and nudge her arm away so she almost falls on the checkered, red and white picnic blanket. “sounds like… mmh, fuck, this is good”, she licks her finger — “sounds like m’giving birth”

“i didn’t have any more icing left!” you raise your tone brightly. ellie looks you in the eyes and swallows a sly smirk. this time, it’s your turn to wipe some residue off the corner of her lips. you taste it, and god damn was she right— it’s finger lickin’ good.

“i think that like, when we have babies, you’d be the one to give birth… not my thing. don’t want some… little intruder in my stomach”

before you have time to answer, ellie bites the insides of her cheeks and feels like slapping herself in the face or burying herself 7 feet in the ground. she’s talking about having babies with you?!

she’d smack herself so hard right now if she could.

for you, however, it’s becoming insufferably hard not to start jumping up and down and ripping your hair off in excitement.

“let me get this straight…” you begin, and ellie’s convinced you’re about to tell her that she’s too much and leave. “an intruder, as you put it, can live inside my belly for nine whole months, but not inside yours?”

ellie has to stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief. “it’ll suit you, is all i’m sayin’”

ellie manages to eat half of the creamy chocolate cake all by herself. she was never one to have a big appetite, did you sneak something inside of the batter, perhaps?

maybe it’s love, ellie wonders. she scolds herself internally, quit being such a sap. it’s definitely the espresso powder her taste buds managed to pick up on.

laying face to face with her eyes closed, you manage to count some of her splattered freckles. one… two… fifteen…, some of them grew darker, tanner. ellie’s chest rises up and down, and you almost think she must have dozed off like a little kid having a post—dessert nap, until;

“hey” she whispers.

“hi” you whisper back.

ellie opens her eyes, a soft, lazy half smile adorning her face. she bites her bottom lip, “can i open my present now?”

impatient.

you shake your head softly. “nuh uh, sun’s still out. sorry, els”

she wants to scoff but she loves it when you call her by that little nickname. “but…” you look down shyly, reaching out for your pocket. “i ran into… joel, on my way here” you speak quietly, afraid of saying the wrong thing. ellie blinks twice, and clears her throat. taking it out of your pocket, you place the little precious pin in between ellie and you. ellie only looks at it, doesn’t touch. you can’t quite describe the expression on her face. surprised? dreadful?… doubtful, maybe, and a tad curious perhaps. “he wanted me to give you this… s’the fallen apollo eleven, i think”

ellie let’s out a quiet chuckle.

“apollo one”

she lifts herself up, taking the pin in her hand. her green eyes begin examining it, brushing her fingers on the golden metal. you sit quietly for a while, allowing ellie to be one with her thoughts. she doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, really. sorrow? regret? tears threaten to fill the brim of her eyes, so with her back to you, she sighs deeply and swallows them up. you bring your hand to lay a small caress on the small of her back, and ellie gazes to the side. she grabs your hand, and plants a small kiss on to your fingers. “ellie…” you silently whisper, and ellie sniffles.

“it’s alright, m’okay” she assures, and lays herself on top of the blanket again. her hand still holds your fingers, and you bring them around her thumb and squeeze. “thank you” she voices. before telling her that you’re not the one she should thank, a small tear flows down her cheek. you’d wipe it away, but ellie grabs your other hand and interlocks her fingers with yours. “sometimes it… fuck—“ she laughs, it occurss to both of you you’ve never quite seen her cry. “it’s okay” you comfort. keep going, you got her. ellie deeply sighs, “feels like i don’t deserve any of this”. the tear is hanging from her chin now, then flows down to her neck. you don’t ask her why, because now is not the time, but you’ll ask her one day. for now, all you do is assure her that she does. and for once in her life, she actually might start to believe it.

⋆˙⟡♡

apparently, chocolate cake, raspberry jam and some bubbly champagne (that you stole borrowed from the tipsy bison) can really get you two going. after hours of aimless giggling, tummies hurting from all of the fine delicacies, it’s time for your favourite past time— ellie and yours hypotheticals corner. naturally, with your head laying on top of her firm chest, you’re the one who starts. “okay, so… plants”, you gush. “mhm, so plants” ellie repeats, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your half covered shoulder. “which plant would i be?”

ellie thinks for a while— you two really take this seriously. she hums before responding, puffing some air from her nose. “chocolate plant, for sure”

interesting. you thought she’d say a certain flower, a delicate one, a soft one, one that blooms in the day. chocolate plant. “intersting… why chocolate? — ellie doesn’t quite know either. perhaps it’s because she loves chocolate and she loves you, and the champagne is making her feel giddy and silly and you’re her little chocolate bean, plant thing.

“cause it’s tasty” she responds, and you almost settle on that except… you seem to have an important anecdote you have a blinding urge to point out.

“well, it makes zero sense. you’ve never even tasted me”

that she hasn’t. yet.

ellie’s breath hitches inside her throat and she nearly chokes on her spit. do you know… what you’re doing? you muttered that sentence so innocently, so absentmindedly, and of course she hasn’t tasted you, but did that thought occur in your mind like it did in hers? you’re still smiling, patiently waiting for her response, and ellie can’t help but feel so… well, she couldn’t quite put her finger on what she was feeling. her cheeks however— light up in a shade of dusty pink.

“imagine if you like, ate me! i’d probably taste so…”

sweet? intoxicating?

“gross!” you exclaim, exaggerating and blowing your eyes out. ellie’s cheeks calm down a little, the pretty pink diminishing slowly. “thank god you’re not a cannibal…”

nah, she thinks she might be something worse.

slowly, ellie pushes her body closer to yours. you feel her faint breaths on the tip of your nose. “tickles…” you murmur, and ellie huffs out and smiles. it’s that smile she gives you before saying something. the way her eyes dart from your lips to your eyes… it makes you feel vulnerable, coy, and it’s as if she’s studying you, taking in your features one by one. perhaps, she loves seeing the way your eyelashes flutter like small butterfly wings when you feel her gaze on you.

“i have tasted you though” she rasps, her voice low and husky. her eyes are focused on your lips now, as hers slightly part, and then close up again. “you have?” you mumble, shy under her gaze. she hums, bringing the pad of her thumb to your lips again and pulling on your bottom one slightly. this time, you don’t have lemonade juice running down your chin. this time— the gesture is truly just for her. those lips… she thinks.

“you taste… good. and sweet, like…”, your lips curl up to a smile. “chocolate?” you complete. ellie hums again, her palm cupping your cheek. you feel warm, how are you always so warm? — even when you’re shivering cold, warmth is all she can feel.

“and vanilla… and coconut” she caresses your cheek with her thumb. you giggle, “you’ve never even had coconut”

“nah, but i can imagine…” — and oh, imagine she can. is this the champagne talking? it must be it, because that fizzling bubbly voice in her head would not let her go. funny, she doesn’t even feel drunk. “you taste sweet too” you state, nearly purring into her hand as she keeps delicately caressing your skin. she chuckles, “no i don’t” — and she’s right. she doesn’t taste sweet, in fact, she tastes minty and earthy and it makes you feel dizzy each time.

slowly, ellie gets her face even closer to yours. she sees your eyes twinkling, and she swears they shine brighter than every star she’s ever seen. back in the old times, nasa would have a field trip exploring your orbs. they might even find new galaxies in there, and ellie wishes she could explore each one. she really should have been an astronaut.

“ellie?” you quietly whisper. ellie nearly gets lost in the way you say her name, but responds to you nevertheless. “yeah babe?”

“can i taste you? to prove how… sweet you are?” — she knows you mean her lips, regardless, that dusty pink turns a deeper shade of crimson. she thinks it’s absolutely adorable, how you still feel the need to ask. however, she forgets that she asks you that question each time as well. can she… kiss you here? right below your ear? that feel good?

she doesn’t respond with words, but with actions. she cups your cheek harder now and with fervour, and she knows she needs to be romantic but she’s famished, so as soon as she feels your lips part— she plunges her tongue deep inside and you surrender to her domination. almost like a waltz, your tongues dance together, swirling around each other and tasting— and she still doesn’t taste all that sweet, but you do, and it makes her brain feel like mush. you whimper into her mouth and it almost sounds like your “els”, and she knows she needs to come out for air soon and break off the kiss but how can she? how can she when you’re so damn sweet?

her hand dips lower, placing itself on your throat, and she gives you that little squeeze (that she realised must have made you feel good, because you always had chills when she did and she could feel them), and this time— you really did whimper out her name. ellie groans, but you abruptly break the kiss, holding on to your stomach. she pants slightly, before releasing your throat from her grasp. “did i do something?“ she asks quietly.

thing is, she truly didn’t. in fact, it was that damn bee colony that did. she must have heard them buzzing and flying into each other and bumping into your stomachs walls and dip even lower and— “can you hear them?” you question— and you’re panicking slightly, she can tell.

“hear who?”, ellie looks around, but nobody’s there. intruders? clickers? you must have drank too much, but you really hadn’t so…

“it’s so fuckin’ stupid…” you whine, lowering your head and hiding your face in the crook of her neck. ellie still thinks you must have heard something for real— and by all means, it is real, just not… like that. “hey” she encourages, placing her hand on the back of your neck. if she dares to even move it to the front of it, you’d panic again and be totally screwed. ellie notices you’re holding on to your lower stomach, “does it hurt?” she questions, worrisome.

“no… no, s’not that…” you voice, an octave higher than a whisper. “just when… when you kiss me? like, when you kiss me like that, you know?”, you hide your face again, and ellie’s worried sick— oh god, you hate it. you hate it when she kisses you.

you take a moment to gather your thoughts, you can explain this.

you breathe deeply, and ellie still holds the back of your head. “you know how people say… that you have… butterflies, when you’re around someone you like?”

“uh huh” ellie sighs. she gets it now. you don’t have those butterflies. you get sick when she kisses you, it makes your stomach hurt and you hate it and hate her and she knew you were too good for her and fuck.

“well, mine feel more like… well, they feel violent. it feels like i’m going to explode. i call them my bees, my bee colony, it’s so fucking stupid and i feel like they’re everywhere—“

oh.

ellie laughs (finally), breathlessly so, and she giggles and squeezes your body closer to hers and you continue to ramble, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric of her hoodie. she’s going to squeeze you so hard you might die, and you start banging your hands on her chest and you’re embarrassed, mortified at your little confession and the bees are so mad! they're calling for a conference call and you nearly explode.

“babe, babe—“ ellie calls out, forcing your head out of her neck and nearly begging you to look at her. you don’t though, you shut your eyes tight as she looks at you and thank god you do because she looks so amused but so enamoured she nearly doesn’t even want you to look.

“you wanna know what i have?” she probes, and you finally open one eye to take a peak. “no!”, and immediately— you shut it again. “i don’t have butterflies either” she calmly states, playfully pressing on your nose so you can huff out and look at her. when you do, you expect to see a smile— but instead, you’re faced with a serious expression, ellies eyebrows furrowing.

“i have wasps”

“wasps?” you doubt her quietly.

“mhm…” her lips part and she licks her bottom one before she speaks. “more like… tigers, or like, lions. way worse than yours. i mean, i’m in terrible condition”— she chuckles, and she just might be.

her words don’t comfort you, in fact, they make you buzz even louder.

doe eyed, you look up at her. “lions?”

“mhm” she nods. lions that might just tear you apart on the grass if you keep on looking at her like that.

this time, when she kisses you again— you don’t hold on to your stomach, you place your hand on hers. as the bees grow even louder, crashing into each other and ruining your slippery insides, you swear you can nearly hear her own lions roar alongside with your buzzing. she grabs your neck and squeezes it again, you nearly shriek, and ellie groans into your mouth and she’s the one to stop, but for an entirely different reason now. “inside?” she murmurs, staring at your glistening, kiss swollen lips and at the drool that runs on one corner. “please…” you whine, and ellie’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. please…? she repeats in her mind— and oh fuck.

⋆˙⟡♡

so she takes you inside, your hand in hers.

with the chocolate cake and the bottle of champagne and it’s glasses far forgotten, the sweet raspberry jam slowly melting away, the chocolate cake growing into a chocolate… pudding, the ants are sure to come. how pitiful, that bees will always triumph over them, and the wasps— or the lions, well, they triumph over everything.

what ellie wants to do right now, is take you up to her bedroom and ravish you in all your glory, but you’re no forgetful fool. with everything else washed away, how dare you forget her presents?, her moonflowers?

“ellie!” you exclaim, squeezing on her hand. “it’s nighttime! your birthday presents…” you wiggle out your eyebrows.

shit— she nearly forgot, she’s pretty sure that if someone placed an actual living and breathing dinosaur in her living room she wouldn’t even notice because you keep on rendering her a distracted mess.

besides, its your own fault, because how do you do that? how do you go from driving her crazy and making her want to eat you on the grass, to making her heart flutter and burst inside of her chest the moment after? you’re a magician, a witch, what the fuck are you? not a fairy— that’s for sure, fairies are scary.

“so… you wanna open them up or not?”

she wants to open you up. no, no! bad ellie! that’s definitely the champagne still talking (it’s long gone.)

“fuck yeah”

you grab the paper bags (with the little blue ribbon), and drag her upstairs. you physically drag her, because for some reason, opening her presents is making her incredibly nervous. you expected her to be more eager, to snap the bag out of your hand as soon as you allowed her, but instead— she sits on the bed and just waits. she’s waiting for you to hand them out to her.

the nervousness seems to eat you up as well, tummy aching (still the bees, but also some normal excitement)— and as you hand her the bag, a few questions start to arise.

what if she hates it? what if she hates flowers? what if she’s allergic to the ipomea alba, what if she starts sneezing and coughing and dying?! or what if she already managed to get over savage starlight? (in a matter of two days��) what if the cake sucked and she was lying all along and you’d disappoint her and she dumps you and—

“HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT!!!!!!!!!” — she yelps, you didn’t even notice she opened the damn bag!

“this is…..” her eyes are bright and she smiles so big it nearly damn hurts the apples of her cheeks. “savage fucking star— fuck! s’the latest fucking one! how did you even manage to, fuck— gotta fuckin’ kiss you right now or i’d die”

ellie practically pounces on you, kissing you all over your face. cheeks— two kisses on each one, your nose, your forehead, your chin, both of your earlobes, “close your eyes, gotta kiss ‘em too”, your jaw, your neck…

“are you into me or something? cause it looks like you’re super into me, giving me this fuckin’ gift… dude. if you have feelings for me…”, she places her pointer and her middle finger on your chin and makes you look up at her. you stifle a giggle, “you gotta just tell me, might be into you too” she pecks your lip slowly and you instantly melt.

“we have to read it today… but only eight pages! gotta save it up”

she nearly buries her entire face in the comic book pages. she sniffs, “shit… even smells new” — a layer of fine dust adorns it, so you know it doesn’t.

“rented it from the library!” you chirp, the concept of libraries being one you merely only read about.

“there’s… something else in there too…” you begin. for some reason, giving her those flowers you picked makes you even more nervous. she curiously looks up at you. “there's more?”

you bend down to grab the paper bag off of the wooden floor. the moonflowers’ petals opened up, and there you were— awestruck again. “you can’t give me more things… it’s too much i don’t…” deserve it? you know she thinks so. regardless, she looks up at you adoringly, as your hand tremors and you lift the flowers out of the brown paper bag. you look at them, trying to decide if maybe you were just being delusional, maybe they’re not nearly as pretty as you thought they were when you came across them for the first time. perhaps they’re…

“woah…” ellie gazes at them, wide eyed. she doesn’t even know the meaning of them but yet she is nothing but mesmerised. “wh… what flower is this?” she asks, running her fingers on their dark green stems. when she reaches their creamy white petals, she moves her fingers even more delicately. caressing it, her knee nudges yours.

“moonflower” you reply silently, watching ellie’s digits adoring the bloom. “it’s… it’s really pretty”

you take a deep breath. “i picked it up cause… it reminds me of you”, you exhale, fiddling with your fingers. when she notices, she puts her hand, the one with the flowers in it— on top of yours. the room is quiet, except for ellie’s shallow breaths.

“it um… well… first of all, it’s beautiful, like you”, you flush, and ellie flushes as well. she swallows deeply, and involuntarily, a small “fuck” escapes from her throat.

“and… they’re not supposed to grow in jackson. it was purely by accident, so they’re special… like you, and uh… well, they only bloom during the night, which is why i waited. they’re strong, and they’re deadly, i mean— the venom is… so don’t… eat it, i guess.” you chuckle, and you barely even notice two fat tears streaming down your cheeks. “they remind me of you because they’re the prettiest flowers ive ever seen, and when i saw them… i was kinda of like… woah, just like what happened when i saw you for the first time, remember?” — ellie sniffles, and ellie’s crying. “so… you’re my moonflower”

ellie doesn’t know what to do. she looks up, covering her face with her hands. she wipes away a stupid tear, and then wipes away your precious one.

one whole minute passes.

“if i ever…” she begins, swallowing hard. “if i ever lose you? i think i might die” — because the moonflower needs sun to live, and you’re her sun, her lifeline.

you take her face in between your shaky palms. ellie’s lips hold a slight tremor, and then she laughs.

“i’m in love with you”

you don’t have to say it back. you really don’t, because again — actions speak louder than words. your soft lips meet her slightly chapped ones, and ellie hums into the kiss. different than the one before, this one is gentle, dim, the lust hasn’t disappeared— it’s still there, but it has something more to it, not diminishing it, just hovering above. could you guess what it is?

“i love y…” you whisper out, attempting to break the kiss, just if you could simply say this one thing, but ellie knows, she knows. she pulls you by the back of your neck more forcefully now, deepening the kiss. because you couldn’t finish your sentence, you pout— but ellie suckles on your bottom lip and wipes your silly pout away. her hand goes lower, from the back of your head to hold on to your waist, and she squeezes the covered flesh. you moan into the kiss, tasting her spit and her tongue, and oh god— the bees. you think you might have just another precious gift for her. one she’s been waiting for, one she’s been fantasising about, one that you’ve been fantasising about. when you moan into the kiss, ellie breaks it. she’s staring you down, panting again. “think i… have… one more gift” you whisper, and ellie— her lips parted, nods once. “one more?” she rasps, squeezing your waist again and pulling you up to straddle her. “mhm”, you hiccup as you feel yourself snugly pressed up against her.

she places one hand on your thigh, simply caressing it back and forth. the more up she goes, the more your breaths become uneven and so do her’s. it’s not entirely an unfamiliar territory— you've been seated on her lap a few times before (seven, but whos counting? she is), but this is… different. “whats your gift, huh?” she teases. you? are you going to be her gift? you always have been…

you whine when she traces small circles with her slender fingers on your clothed inner thighs. you whine and it makes ellie throb— you’ve never quite made that noise before, and she yearns to pull every single noise you could possibly make out of you. a whimper, a moan, god— a scream. she feels like she’s about to explode and christ, you’re still fully clothed.

like a hunter examining it’s prey, ellie moves her face forwards, and then downwards, towards your neck. she places a few chaste kisses, “ah! tickles…” ellie chuckles darkly, yearning to “tickle” you once more. she plants two more delicate, tickling kisses before suckling on the flesh. at first, her tongue meets your skin and she laps up at it. then, her teeth bite into it, and you nearly jump. “sorry… that hurt?” she asks, and really, she’s not sorry at all. “feels…” ellie cuts you off and sucks again. this time, she’s determined to leave a mark. “oh… feels…” you continue, shuddering in her arms like glass. she hasn’t even touched you, not really, and yet everything feels damp. your face, from your tears and from her tears and from spit, to the flesh of your neck that’s being sucked on and played with, down to the small wet patch inside your panties that you’d be mortified if she noticed.

when she finishes the assault on your neck, she moves up to your lips again and grunts when she sees how your lips were already parted, just for her. the kiss is slow, wet, her tongue kitten licking your own. it’s nasty, really, wet smacking and sucking noises filling the air. almost involuntarily, your hips start moving and grinding up against her thigh. ellie moans deeply. “mmph… yeah?” she teases, or at least tries to, because her voice is shaky and turned on to the max. she helps you move slightly, and my god she needs to take your pants off and feel your naked heat against her like this. when she thinks about what it must be like for you— she imagines your fat pussy lips squished up inside your panties, grinding on her thigh and she nearly loses it. she wants to help you grind harder… could she make you cum just from that? cum inside your pants whilst using her thigh? “fuuuck”, ellie groans and lifts her hand up, nearly smacking your ass but it ends up just landing on her own leg.

“s’not fair… what you’re doing…” she murmurs in your ear, “what did… what did i do?” you respond back, your voice high and needy. ellie doesn’t even know what she meant to say. all she knows is that it’s not fair. it’s not fair how you make her react and feel like this, the way your eyes glisten isn’t fair, the way you grind up on her thigh and make those sounds isn’t fair, the way you make her feel sticky and mushy and wet — without even taking your clothes off, isn’t fair.

still moving with fervour on top of her legs, her hand is dangerously close to where you need her the most. she nearly cups it, flips you over and ravishes you whole, but she stops herself. “can i please… take your fuckin’…” she rasps, running her short fingernails on your sides. she’s not scratching, but it’s not an entirely gentle movement either. she doesn’t know where to start, should she ask you to take your top off? your pants? — maybe she should just ask you to go completely naked. she settles on the little top, however.

you lift the fabric up slowly, but you do it out of nerves. as much as ellie wants it off, she lets you take it slow. you peel it off, exposing your skin inch by inch— do you even know how bad you’re teasing her right now? “ah, fuck” ellie groans out. when the shirt meets the top of your head, it gets stuck there for a second. you giggle nervously, your lacey bra on full display, and ellie considers just leaving you there to struggle by yourself. if your eyes are covered by the material, maybe you won’t notice how hard she’s staring. “need some help there, babe?” she teases as she leans back on her elbows. your laugh is muffled, and ellie chuckles. how are you so goddamn sexy and adorable at the same time? after ten whole seconds of struggling, ellie lifts it up for you. “there, good girl… wasn’t that hard, right? just needed my help?” she teases, and god is she mean— that little twinkle in her now much darker green eyes making you feel like your ears are about to melt off.

swiftly, ellie begins planting soft kisses all over your collarbones. her hand isn’t touching your breasts quite yet, but it’s hovering on top of them, and then you realize— she’s waiting for your approval, for your yes. you put your hands around her neck and push her forward, which makes her hands land on top of your breasts. ellie moans as soon as she feels them, and even though they’re covered by fabric — the lace is thin and she can feel your hardening nipples. she runs her thumb over the swollen buds and you shiver. “knew you’d be sensitive…” she murmurs to herself against your skin. “what did… uh, what did you say?”, you stutter, and then she looks up at you. “said…” she flicks it and you buck your hips. “fuck… knew you’d be sensitive”

she knew… you’d be? “you’ve, uh… thought about this before?” — and ellie chuckles, fully laughs nearly. if you only knew how many times she’s thought about this you’d probably crumble like a danish biscuit. “too many times” ellie confesses, and she almost gets too embarrassed to admit, but she swears she can feel a little wet patch on her jeans so she knows you must have thought about this as well, perhaps more than she has — but not likely. “i have too” you murmur shyly, and there it is.

“oh, really?” she asks, kissing right in between of your tits and making you jolt. if her lips feel this good on your chest… your eyes roll back to the top of your head. “so you’re just as filthy, huh?”, her right hand lands on your ass with the smallest smack, she knows she could make it hurt if she wanted to (and she does), but not yet. you jump and squeal, and in a random burst of confidence — “m’filthier…” you whisper.

with that, ellie grunts and takes your tits in her palms, she kneads the swollen flesh, pushing both of your breasts together and kisses right between the formed cleavage. “bet you’re filthier…” she whispers, opens her mouth so her tongue can stick out and lick between your cleavage line. when she does so, she brings her hand to your back and unclasps your bra with just her two fingers. she lets it cascade down, and she notices how shy you get, trying to bring your hands to cover yourself up. ellie is faster than you, and grabs both of your wrists so you can’t. you’re fully exposed, and ellie’s all pants and heavy breaths. when you try to wiggle yourself out of her grip, your tits move and bounce in the slightest, and ellie’s in trance. “you’re so… fuckin’ pretty” she takes your hard nipple in her mouth and you wince as soon as you feel her pink muscles wetness. “that feel good huh?” she takes your other breast in her hand and toys with it, palms it and making it shake.

with hungry kisses, she lays you down on her bed. you buck your hips forward, and ellie parts your legs with her own. she runs her hands all over your body, and before kissing you again, she stops. “els?” you ask, but ellie ignores you. ellie takes her top off, and fuck you’re nearly drooling. she wasn’t even wearing a bra, and her pretty pink nipples are just as hard as yours. you’re staring, and it’s ellie’s turn to go shy. “you like… ‘em?” she giggles, “shit, nevermind”

you don’t expect it, but ellie grabs the brown paper bag and pulls the moonflower bouquet out of it. “wh… what are you doing?”

“don’t worry about it” — she places the flowers on your chest. for some reason, your ears start to burn. “hold ‘em like that for me?” she asks, and you do. with ellie straddling you, it almost looks like she’s about to pull out a camera and take a picture. “perfect…” she murmurs, “feels like i marked you. s’over for you, you’re mine, y’know that?”

you think you’ve always known. “yours” you whisper coyly, giving her that toothy grin that makes her melt into a puddle. she leans forward, kissing the tip of your nose. “yours who?” she kisses your cheek, and then below it, and then on your jaw. “yours… ellie” — and she must be smiling, because you can feel her lips curl up on your skin.

she kisses you everywhere, on every scar, every blemish, sometimes she bites, but then soothes it with her tongue. you’re growing impatient, the pressure down your panties becoming insufferable. before she unbuttons your pants, she unbuttons her’s. she pulls them down, to sit right below her boxers covered ass. she comes up again, kissing on your tummy, and then — she puts her ear to it. “m’hearing them…” she murmurs. “they're… talking to me, the bees are begging me to fuc—“

“ellie!” you call out, embarrassed. you try and muffle your giggles with your hand but it’s all for nothing, because when she pulls your pants down you gasp. she takes a moment to stare, she could just stare at you forever, she thinks. ellie toys with the waistband of your panties, running her pointer finger on the line. she’s breathing heavy, and you’re nearly wheezing. she bends down to kiss your sopping covered cunt, “oh fu— wait!” you call out.

“i’m… i feel, i’m too shy i can’t…”, ellie smiles and kisses it again. she knows you are. “feels like i might—“ you cry out, feels like you might what?

“explode!”

“you might… but i got you, yeah?” ellie coos, and this time, she doesn’t kiss it, she runs her tongue along the wet patch. she wiggles it from side to side and fuck, she can taste you already and she thinks she might be addicted. your thighs tense and they involuntarily wrap around ellie’s head. she chuckles, and parts them apart. to soothe you, she runs her fingers on your inner thighs and caresses you gently. she kisses your clothed clit and she swears she just felt it pump. “awh… yeah?” she coos again, and it feel like she’s talking to your pussy and not to you. you whimper and drop your head back, and she sucks on it. she’s making the fabric grow nearly sheer with her tongue, and when she sees the outline of your pussy lips she moans deeply. “so wet…” she murmurs to herself, “this all for me, huh? did i do something?” she looks up at you, and your eyes are tightly shut, not even in a place where you feel like you can talk.

you’re fuzzy everywhere.

“can you answer me?” she warns, but chuckles when she sees your back arching as soon as she pulls your soaking wet panties to the side. you hum, “all f— for you”, but ellie doesn’t even hear it, because she’s faced with the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

your glistening folds, the tiny swollen button on top, and your hole practically clenching in and out over nothing and she thinks she might just die. she spits on it with a small “ptu”, watches as her warm saliva cascades down from your clit to your inviting hole. when you clench, your hole absorbs some of her spit and she groans deeply. “fuck that’s cute”

you’re panting, a sweet harmony of “please, ellie!” escaping your lips, and when you accidentally muttered a pathetic, squeaky “puhleaseee!” ellie scratched the idea of slowly, butterfly kissing your cunt till you’re begging and began placing an open mouthed kiss on it.

as her tongue meets your clit for the first time, you clutch your thighs around her head. it happens twice before she forces them open, “quit that, gotta see you” — she warns, and you listen because you just do. “look at me” she instructs, her voice muffled by your sweet pussy in her mouth. her tongue laps up the wetness from your hole, brings it to the top of your clit and sucks. ellie hums, she was right — you really are fuckin’ sweet. “so good…” she murmurs, “doin’ such a good job”, truly, you aren’t even doing anything, just squirming and whimpering under her touch. she moves her tongue around and you swear you just felt her spell something with it, “ellie!” you cry, and ellie’s breath hitches down her throat so she comes out for air and spits on your cunt again. she rubs the wetness with her fingers, then separates your pussy lips with her thumbs so she can see all of you.

you’re just like a flower, she thinks. slowly, she places her tongue on your clit again, but with her fingers on it still, she begins toying with your tight hole. she merely teases it, probing your entrance with her ring finger. “gonna put it inside, that okay?” she asks, but you’re unresponsive, a blabbering mess who doesn’t even remember her own name. ellie chuckles, she could probably do anything she wanted. she slips it inside, feeling your gummy walls squeezing her in, and she moans right when you do. “oh… gosh, ellie!”

“so fuckin’ tight” she whispers, returning her mouth on your clit and suckles deeply. she adds a second finger and now you’re gone, fully consumed by this filthy, pleasure filled monster. “i think m’gonna!” you cry and ellie whimpers out, nearly going cross eyed when she notices you’re toying with your nipples just like she did. “explode?” she breathlessly says. “c… cum!”

“good fuckin’…” she wants to complete that sentence, but instead her tongue dips lower and her hands push your thighs so your knees are pushed up against your chest. it goes even lower, licking your tightest entrance, the one that’s never been explored, not even by your own hands, and when she flicks her tongue upon it and then immediately goes back to your swollen clit you’re—

“cum’… m’cumming! m’cumming!” and yeah you are, ellie thinks, and slaps one of your thighs. you're jolting when you do, her name leaving your mouth like a prayer, and pray as much as you want but heaven will not be the one that accepts you, perhaps it’ll be purgatory, but with her in it it’s more than perfect. “uh huh… cum for me”

when you do, you see stars, and ellie sees moonflowers.

she laps up your saccharine juices, sucking them off her fingers one by one. you’re feeling faint, buzzing everywhere, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. ellie looks up at you, eyelids half shut. when you see the index finger that was deep inside of you just a moment ago, go inside her mouth, her pouty pink lips around them and she’s lapping it up and she’s greedy— you cringe a little. she’s tasting and tasting and humming, “told you… you’re sweet”

[theaterism]

At this point, it's only customary for the triplets' presents to simply appear on their bedsheets. They are wrapped securely and carefully, but other than that, they are not meant to be hidden.

Victor's present is a little box, wrapped in cat paw paper. Inside is... the familiar shape of three tiny pumpkins. The gifter muse think they are being funny. In the middle of the pumpkin-circle, either a decoration or a summoning ritual, is a small, blue-yellow toy camera. From its size to the colours, it's evident the item was made for toddlers. It can hold a reasonable number of tiny photographs anyway. With this, the gifter definitely thought themself a comedian.

Charlie's gift is flat but cute, the paper printed blue with clouds and suns. Once unwrapped, the receiver would find a variety of embroidered fabric patches. There were several flower patches, as well as a rabbit and a butterfly, and a star in pink, purple and blue. Buried alongside the patches were several paperclips decorated with funny wooden animals. It was almost as if the gifter had plucked them out of their respective boxes as they went without looking back (or towards the cashier).

Finally, Foxtrot's gift was wrapped in midnight blue and snowflakes, though even flatter than Charlie's. The gift itself was folded paper. The top side read, "Text me as you go."

Once spread out, the receiver would find himself looking at a map, whose careful inks and familiar architecture would lead anyone to identify it as the inside of the Twilight Theater. At least, it was the rooms and halls known to the duo, particularly the ones that stayed where they'd found them and were not as securely locked.

Of course, as with any treasure map, most rooms bore gifts.

Several of them were spread out in the auditorium. The map gave hints for how to reach each one in the shape of doodles and exclamation points, so they would eventually lead the land pirate to finding an overly fluffy fox keychain, a pin of a menacing-looking goat man, another pin of a booing ghost where their sleeping bags had once been, and a bag of caramel popcorn bearing a glittery star sticker.

One of the rooms required experience in lockpicking. The items was hidden well, but the hints were just as helpful---it was hidden inside a potted plant, a tiny shopping cart meant for storage. What sort of storage would be tiny enough to fit was up to the receiver.

Finally, in the break room, there was something tucked beneath a plate. The map would not specify which, and the doodles were certainly not in par with Charlie's, so it required more luck than skill to find the slip of paper under the heap of freshly-baked christmas cookies. It was... a coupon. An apple cider coupon. The entire thing was obviously handmade, with clipped pieces of actual café menus slapped beside Wren's spacy handwriting. The location read "theater kitchen". It bore the same marking as all other gifts on the map, despite not having been drawn on the map itself.

And, predictably, Wren occupied the kitchen themself, two steaming mugs of apple cider on the kitchen counter.

They were sat on the table when he came in, phone in hand and legs swaying. The grin they wore when they saw his face was as warm as their homemade drinks. "There he is. How'd you find the present hunt, hm? Birthday boy?"

Victor discovered his gift first. A smile tugged at his lips at the paw-print wrapping paper, though he couldn’t stifle a weary sigh when he uncovered the pumpkins. And… a tiny camera? In distinctly toddler-like colors. Victor hummed and took an experimental picture of Juliet as she bapped a pumpkin with her paw. The camera worked. True, it radiated mischief, yet he appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

He left his siblings’ presents untouched for them to find later, not wanting to spoil the surprise.

Charlie’s eyes widened when she saw the present on her bedsheets. Just like last year. She resisted her eagerness to tear it open and unfolded the wrapping carefully instead, intending to preserve some of the cute paper. Perhaps for a scrapbooking project.

The actual contents of the gift delighted her even more. She traced her fingers over the embroidered patches, beaming as she admired their shapes and the meaning behind their colors, already imagining the clothing she might adorn with them. Amusement glimmered in her eyes at the paperclips as well. Her mind brimmed with ideas for where to use them.

She considered hiding Foxtrot’s gift or peeking inside it somehow, curious about its flatness. In the end, she abandoned it in favor of hurrying down the stairs to show off her patches to other theater workers.

Foxtrot spotted his present last, though he guessed its gifter in a heartbeat and grinned at the thought of them sneaking it onto his bed. But what was the oddly-shaped gift? He removed the lovely wrapping to reveal the paper within, and excitement sparked within him as he unfolded it. A treasure map. A treasure map of the theater, to be precise, its lines tracing familiar rooms and halls inside the building. The rooms and halls he’d explored with Wren.

Text me as you go, Wren had requested. And Foxtrot did, a message following each discovery:

‘a fox! must be warm with so much fluff’

‘goatman’s real but much tinier than i expected’

‘a ghost as well! the theater IS hauntsd’

‘what do you call popcorn in a play?’

‘propcorn’

A longer pause to allow time to focus on lockpocking. After the entry and subsequent search:

‘ah my fox army can use this shopping cart in battle’

And finally, when luck favored him and he uncovered the slip of paper beneath the plate of cookies:

‘can i save this coupon after using it? it’s the best ive ever gotten’

This last text conveyed more sincerity, Foxtrot’s appreciation for the treasure hunt shining through his jests. Each inside joke reminded him of their many adventures and misadventures. He recognized the thought and effort Wren had put into all these gifts, and warm gratitude bloomed in his chest.

When he entered the kitchen at last and saw Wren waiting for him, he beamed at them. He’d begun the hunt as soon as he found the first clue, forgetting to bring a bag or a jacket with pockets, so he carried the gifts in his arms. Bits of his sweater peeked through the jumbled items — a pattern of foxes in Christmas hues chased each other across the knitted material. It looked a bit silly. A lost bet with Charlie had doomed him to wear it the whole day.

A question. The present hunt was wonderful. “You’re wonderful,” tumbled from his lips first instead, just as sincere. “It was all wonderful, really.” A flush still burned his cheeks from the ‘birthday boy’ comment, yet Foxtrot couldn’t shake his smile. It had been a marvelous birthday quest — especially upon seeing the steaming mugs on the counter and finding Wren themself, his favorite fellow land pirate and the true treasure at the end of the search. “Sorry if I kept you waiting long. Slowing down in my old age and all.”

[beiasluv]

lil ginger | op81

— shifter!osc, angst, lovie dovey ending?? that’s all 👹

What would you do if you see a poor lil ginger cat following on your heels? A, be a meanie and leave him alone. B, take him back.

Obviously you had to choose B.

Never being a cat person, grown up with doggos all your life, you just really don’t know how to interact with one. Sure, you’d give them little pats and all—and clicking your tongue discreetly to see how far you can get it to follow. But this one was just…different.

“Hi—” you cooed. “Are you hurt, baby?”

The ginger and cream colored cat let out a friendly-meowing squeak, seeing that it had successfully gotten your attention. He skipped up to you, and sat down at your feet, tilting his head a set of large brown eyes staring back to you.

Adorable.

So you ended up kneeling on the concrete floor, getting weird looks from passersby. Only for them to realize it was a cat, then it was socially acceptable.

“Poor you,” you cooed as you nervously plucked the twigs and dust away, not really sure how to interact with a cat without getting a scratch.

“Fuck—I am not a cat person,” you mumbled to yourself. “Can I pick you up, little guy?”

Soon enough you did manage to get ahold of the ginger in your hands, realizing it’s a boy. His little ears pinned themselves down, resting his forehead on your chest, and a loud, soft, almost-purring-like meow came from him.

He wasn’t hurt, just a little filthy.

And if he had to guess, he would assume you weren’t a cat person, with the way you were holding him. But he’d appreciate the cuddles every now and then.

There was no collar, no tags to be found. But he was fairly too clean for a stray. And maybe just a little too well behaved.

After a moment of quiet cuddling with the ginger baby, you figured his owner would be looking for him soon enough. Or maybe his mother would come and get the youngster soon.

But would you be so mean and leave him alone?

“Look, if you come with me…I’ll…um…post you somewhere so they can get you back?” He was settled back down on the hard concrete floor, only wanting to see if he would even follow you home.

It also would be cruel to take him back without a little cat-consent…right?

The cat sat himself down, and looked at you, considering your offer. He let his tail flick around the floor, smacking the ground a few times as he thought about your words.

He padded after you, and jumped back up, stretching his bean paws against your leg, as if asking you to pick him back up again.

He wanted up. He wanted attention. He was a needy little bastard.

—

“Make yourself at home…well— no scratching my couch—” you warned as you set the feline down, taking off your coat.

The cat followed a few steps behind you, but when you went into the kitchen—he started to explore.

He climbed up your couch and sniffed around, as cats do, finding your throw pillow a little too inciting. He promised he wasn’t going to do anything to mess up your place, but he was just a cat.

And cats do sniff.

Just when you set out a bowl out of water in the floor, he hopped down from the couch and started to drink, almost desperately lapping the water up— almost like a man parched in the desert.

Watching the ginger feline was almost entertaining, lying yourself on the floor— getting the same eye-level as the cat.

“Okay, your name…” you tapped your chin.

The cat stopped drinking, and looked over at you. His brown eyes followed you as you laid back on the ground, watching you almost curiously. Figuring you out.

He meowed at your words, as if asking you to ‘go on.’

“How is…Daniel? Lucas?”

The cat sat back on his haunches, and tipped his head to the side. Judging you for the names you’d chosen. He let out a soft but slightly rude sounding noise, clearly disagreeing with your choices.

“Okay, that’s a ‘no’…what about…er…Pumpkin?”

He made the same noise, but this time it was louder. Definitely didn’t like the sound of that one. He gave you a displeased look, as if telling you to pick something ‘cooler.’

“Well? I can’t read your mind, mister,” you scoffed lightheartedly. “Ginger?”

Another huff from the cat and a tail smack on the floor.

At this point, you might just well give up.

—

“Here’s the bathroom…for…your business—”

So there you were, touring the cat around, hoping you weren’t going crazy. Not with the way the cat seemed to act/look/respond like it understood what you’ve said.

“And— you, only the foot of the bed is allowed.”

You explained, crawling under the covers. Followed by ‘Ginger’ as he jumped up onto your bed. He sat at your feet, and curled up against them, watching you as you got comfy.

A very polite little guy.

He’d let out a soft, almost human sounding sigh, and seemed to settle down. Kneading the bedding once or twice just to get comfy. And occasionally would be peeking his eyes open— just to mak sure you were still there. Only to be seeing you patting the space next to your waist.

“Fine— just here. No more.”

His eyes widened as you patted at the empty space in the middle of the bed. The cat waited a moment, as if he was expecting some kind of trap. Then quickly started to make his way up the foot of the bed.

You could only guess how much comfort a few inches difference can make of a spot. But, hey, he was just a polite little fella.

You grunted as you got out the bed, fetching him a small blanket you kept in your closet.

“If you get cold.”

He looked down at the offered blanket—inspecting it closely—before pushing his head under it, and starting to burrow. He didn’t seem too cold, but he liked it.

His head poked back out from under the blanket. From under the soft material, his eyes darted up to you, waiting to see if you’d get comfortable again.

—

You woke up, feeling something heavy on your stomach. Figured it was Ginger that moved during the night, so you reached down to pet it. Expecting to feel a layer of hair, but instead you felt what felt fleshy.

When you glanced down, instead of a small cat, you saw a man’s hand resting on your stomach, attached to a muscular arm.

This was not Ginger.

“What the fuck?” You groaned, pushing yourself further to the edge of the bed— rubbing your eyes like it would help you wake up from this dream.

The hand on your stomach shifted, letting out a soft groan at his swollen lips. “…What?”

You had to shift away from him, crawling off the bed. Pressing your back against the wall behind.

“Who are you?—no—How did you get into my room?”

The owner of the hand sat up, and pushed himself into an upright position. He had quite obvious bedhead— mussed up hair sticking in several directions.

And Oh. My. God. This guy was kinda ripped.

“I...” he said, rubbing a hand over his face, still trying to shake off his drowsiness. “I…” he was at a loss for words, as he looked around dumbfounded, trying to process what just happened.

“You what?—What did you do to Ginger?”

“I am Ginger.” He defended himself, his voice going high with a hint of an Australian accent. Squinting his eyes as he saw that you didn’t believe it.

“No? You’re clearly not a cat—I am calling the cops—”

“No! Wait—!” He put his pale, strong hand out to stop you from doing so. Running his hand through his head as the seconds ticked by quickly, trying to find the right way to explain.

“Ok, look—I know it’s a lot, but let me explain first, I just need you to calm down, yeah?”

“I have a fucking man in my bed—one that I don’t know— how am I supposed to know that you won’t jump and kill me. Also.” You breathed.

“You’re claiming that you’re a cat.”

“Look, just—” he began, as he ran his hand through his mussed up bed hair, trying to flatten it down. “I am a shifter—”

Oh.

“Right..” You should’ve known.

“I’m sorry—fuck. I should’ve just left you there— I’m so sorry–”

—

“Can it be permanent?”

The doctor gave Oscar a sympathetic look, his eyebrows raising at the question.

He had seen a lot of cat shifters before, lots of hopeless cases—some of them, and Oscar’s question wasn’t the first time he had heard the same phrase.

“You want to remain in a human body permanently, Mr. Piastri?” He repeated, humming softly as he went over the patient’s history.

The Australian nodded.

“Well…I must tell you. Some shifters have had success in taking medication to help them remain in their human form longer…” He started, seeing the youngster was willing to try. “We can work on a dose and let’s see if it gets you any results,” he added, writing down on the prescription.

“Yeah, I’ll try it—”

—

“You forgot this at my place?”

That snapped Oscar back into reality. Right. He had a casual dinner planned with you at his place. After his surprisingly pleasant interaction with you that morning, he was stuck.

Sure, it was full of you investigating him with all of the shifters’ fun facts and myths. But he handled it professionally. Yes, he’s somewhat conscious in the cat body. No, he can’t really help but to give into the cat instincts.

He needed to climb things, and meow, and rub his face against you, and what not. And, no, his parents are not shifters. Was that all of the questions?

Oscar would often found himself at your place, then vice versa. Just enjoying each other’s company, really.

Not to mention that one time you visited at the ‘wrong’ moment, greeting you in his all-glorious feline state. Even that. You were still nice enough to stick around with a fussy cat.

Oh, and you brought him a lot of cat treats.

Right, the dinner.

“What?”

“I think it’s yours,” you repeated, pushing a pill bottle prescribed with his name across the counter:

Shifting Suppressants Suppress transformation into animal form. Take twice a day.

He quickly reached out for it. “Oh, right, thanks–”

“Why?” You stopped him.

Sure, you weren’t in the place to talk about what medication he should be taking, but can’t a friend look out for each other? It was painfully obvious that he had gone from ‘pale’ to almost a ‘twilight-pale’ this past month, and don’t make you get started on his under eyes.

“Osc…I don’t wanna be pushy, but…I don’t think it’s good for you.”

You can see his face turning just a touch of guilty. And he would argue that the pills were helping with lessening his shifting.

“…I just wanna stay like this, Yn.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, he didn’t want to be like this because he preferred it.

He wanted this so he could feel normal. Just being able to be there and do something for you— not a helpless ginger cat. He had spent a good portion of his life transforming but— he was afraid you wouldn’t even want a cat around for the rest of your life.

“I want to be a human when you’re around— it makes me happy this way—”

“Oh, Osc–”

You frowned admiringly, rounding the kitchen counter to capture his hand. “I like you as a cat, I like you as a human. I don’t care— You’re still…you to me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean—I don’t want to kiss a cat, but I still want to cuddle and spend time— even if you can’t talk.

But I’d still like to kiss a human, for sure.”

“…You mean it?”

“Fuck, yes, I do—”

“That’s good to know,” he smiled softly.

The next thing you knew, he was finding the courage to tug on your laced hands, closing the gap between your lips. His hand traced your jaw in all the perfect places, tugging your chin closer so he can pepper soft kisses all over your lips.

Pulling away with a cheeky smile.

“You make me want to overdose, y’know?”

Hey people, long time no see. 👹👹 HOW ARE YALL doinggg

Anyways, interacting anyway would be appreciated and, as always, today’s a good day to take care of yaself. xoxo’s

@namgification @jsjcue @c-losur3 @evie-119