since it’s august (spooky season lite) here’s cozy stuff to consume
Over the garden wall (ofc)
Hilda
Stephen king books
Thomas Jordan’s photography
the craft
dead poets society
AnnE with an E
tim burton films
alice in wonderland
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twst boys as seasons
malleus x autumn
so many people might call him winter, but the first time you meet him, all you can think of is the sound of falling leaves, of singing wind and dancing chimes, and the soft hush hush of the shifting greens — summer bleeding into something that is not quite summer anymore. “death becomes me,” so he might say, but you’d shake your head, cast your eyes up at the branches leafed in gold, swaying above your heads in the bursting autumn afternoon, “no… life becomes you too,” you tell him. because how else can you make him understand that there is room for both in one single body, that he is hail and harvest both, that abundance drips from him like ambrosia from the tongues of gods. “and… there’s halloween…” he says, the shadow of a grin playing at the edges of his lips, even though nothing in his voice gives him away — you know by now, yes, you know him well enough by now to know when he’s teasing.
and he does so love to tease. “what, you think you’re scary?” “aren’t i?” “not to me.” “hm… was i ever?” and you consider him, taking in the height of him, the oil-dark of his horns, the milk pale of his skin, the quicksilver glint behind his slitted eyes. he leans in, almost as if to bear down upon you, but you laugh, reaching up to press a finger to his lips, making him blink as he pauses. “no,” you shake your head, “never.” he leans back, contemplative, “hn. then perhaps i haven’t been trying hard enough.” but you don’t miss the now no-longer shadow of a grin on lips as he turns his eyes back to the courtyard, back to the falling leaves dipped in every color of the sunset sky, back to the wind-kissed branches and the laughter of the students as they chase each other around the grasses in the last fell dregs of dying daylight. “in order to grow,” you say, your eyes far away too, when he turns to look at you, “things have to die. and that, i think, is beautiful too.” and at this, malleus smiles, allows himself this one, sweet, unabashed thing, “yes… beautiful.” and you don’t turn, but if you had, you’d have noticed that his eyes as he said those words were fixed very solidly on you.
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A Call From The Goddesses
You woke up in a place of spinning, colored light, with your heart racing, pounding in your ears. Despite the initial shock from the brightness of the domain you've suddenly found yourself in, you quickly noticed that you were surrounded by four incredibly pretty girls on each side of you.
"Eh? Moni, is this the right person?" The girl who asked that was in the southwest end of the semi-square the four made around you. However, with her messier hair, clothes, and cute little bow, she definitely seemed to be the most laid-back of the group.
"I... think so? Ahaha... This was certainly unexpected..." the girl in the southeast direction said, clasping one hand into a pointing position, as though she were attempting to shrug off her nerves from the potential mess-up.
"No, no, I... I don't think this is the right one. Maybe Monika made a mistake?" the one in the direction of northeast said in a more shy, meek tone of voice than her compatriots. That said, she still avoided meeting their eyes...
"Jeez, that's just like you to mess that up, Monika! Start doing better! Gosh, why do we even rely on you for things?" the final girl in the northwest barked, visibly making the brown-haired green-eyed girl flinch from the harshness of her tone.
"Ehehe... That said, are you okay?" the first girl asks, finally addressing you rather than one of her three companions. "Here, let me help you up." She waved a hand, and suddenly, you were lifted to your feet in an upright position. How did she...? "You must have lots of questions, right?"
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