#large vintage coat

[susoriginals]

Vintage Mens Navy Blue Canvas Duck Barn Jacket Fleece Lined Chore Coat by Berne Apparel Large Only $28 

#vintage canvas coat #vintage barn jacket #vintage chore coat #vintage navy coat #large vintage coat #vintage work coat #mens vintage work coat #mens vintage chore coat #navy chore coat #large navy coat #large navy jacket #Berne Apparel coat #Berne Apparel jacket #etsy #vintage winter wear #vintage winter clothing

[thesebooks]

"World's Largest Coats" — The mind boggles at the size of the coat hangers. Wow.

Original title: "Thunder out of China" by Theodore H. White & Annalee Jacoby (1980)

#coats #large #china #pol-pot #mao #communism #huge #book #books #bookcover #bookobsessed #cover #coverart #coverdesign #vintage #novel #vintage_covers #retro #spoof #parody #literature #nowreading #paperback #weirdbooks #odd

[markonpark]

Ready for a good brisk walk. Vintage snapshot of a woman posed on a roof in a large hat and coat. https://markonpark.etsy.com/listing/1597646120

#rooftop #large hat #large coat #vintage fashion #vintage women

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

my order is so close i can smell it

#i know none of these things go together don't judge me #am getting more and more convinced they're not going to fit...... i sized down bc everything i've been buying lately has been too big #and i want the shirts to fit tight so i thought large would be ok? #but i generally don't trust vintage sizing #the coat will fit 😖🤞 the coat will fit 😖🤞 the coat will fit 😖🤞 the coat will fit 😖🤞 #🧃

[some-bunniii]

My Charming Red Savior [5]

・❥ You make a deal with Alastor, uh oh?

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

x: i actually enjoy alastor’s room a lot, esp that little pocket dimension he’s got going on. thought we’d take a chapter and play around with it!

~ 6.1k words

When you stepped into Alastor’s room, the last thing you expected to see was the opposite wall divulging into some swampy void of tall, dark trees as fog rolled across the grass. You swore you could even hear the faint sounds of bullfrogs calling across the flooded expanse.

A bayou in the middle of the hotel? Alastor must have done this, no doubt. Stopping just past the threshold to the large room, you pointed a questioning finger towards the swamp. 

“What is that…?” 

“Just a place to test my powers,” Alastor brushed past you, and the soft, orange lights nearby flickered to life as he entered beside you, “Somewhere the consequences of my actions won’t affect the outside world.”

“Consequences?”

“Correct,” Alastor seemed to be enjoying educating you on magic and what he was capable of, as he continued to undo his coat near the doorway as you explored, “The limits of my powers continue to expand, and anyone with a good head on their shoulders would do well to understand the potential risks involved when playing around with demonic forces. This is a sanctuary I can do that without causing chaos inside the hotel… and a quaint little view as well.”

“Is it real?” Your gaze skimmed across old black-and-white photos of demons you didn’t recognize.

“An illusion carefully crafted with years of work. I’ve fine-tuned it to display scenes closest to my memories from before.”

“It must remind you of home,” you said softly, eyes tracing an alligator skeleton nailed to the wall, a string of small, flickering lights snaking around its ribs and up its tail. 

Even if Alastor never mentioned it without a little prodding, it seemed as if his old home on Earth was something he continued to keep close to him. He still had a passion for music, for southern food, and his drive to keep everything the way it was only further displayed his fondness towards his life on earth. What wasn’t there to miss when you’d end up in a place like this for eternity?

“Indeed,” Alastor nodded slowly, and you watched his signature red suit slip slowly down his back. Underneath, a crimson dress shirt shimmered softly in the ambient light. Thin, leather straps hugged tightly across his chest and back, before wrapping around his shoulders for one and down his sides to latch tightly on his dress pants. 

The chest suspenders accentuated his slenderness, shaping the pointish frame of his suit to lovely lines like the noticeable curve of his hips. His thin, feminine waist was as prominent as ever with the straps keeping his shirt nestled tightly against his skin, revealing a more sophisticated figure than what his tuxedo suit had to offer.

Wowie.

You prayed Alastor would turn around to face you, only so you could see how yummy he looked from the front while he placed his signature red coat onto the hanger next to the door. You struggled to keep your eyes up as they traveled farther and farther down his firm back until—

Wait, a second. Was that small, dark red tuft of fur that was nestled against the small of his back, actually what you think it is? 

It jutted out from the top of Alastor’s pants, relaxed against the tight fabric. As the demon walked towards the bookshelf, arm raising towards a vintage radio, it swished cutely behind him. You zoned in on the ball of fluff, mouth slightly agape.

TAIL!

Heat instantly crept onto your cheeks, your fingers twitching, itching to reach forward and wrap your fingers around the plush fur. Alastor’s tail looked as soft as his ears, and that made your face only boil hotter as you imagined how his hair must feel similar. The thought of burying your face in him like a pillow made you smile dopely, before the realization of what you were thinking made you clamp your lips into a thin line.

Smacking a hand over your face, you tried to hide your embarrassment as Alastor moved a few feet further away, completely oblivious to your flustered figure ogling him.

What was wrong with you?! Here you were supposed to be helping him with his wounds but instead you were too busy drooling at how pretty he was!

Alastor’s tail was much more reactive than his ears, and as his fingers fussed with the radio dial, the increasingly audible jazz tune that began to waft through its speakers had that tuft of fur beginning to rise. White peaked from his underfur, as it slowly lifted in a silent expression of pleasure from the demon, as the music began to pour from the radio crystal clear.

You could understand why he was so intent on keeping it hidden underneath his suit. It didn’t seem like Alastor had complete control of his tail, and there was no doubt he saw it as a ‘weakness’ that other powerful demons could use against him somehow.

You thought it was adorable, and somehow, you’d convince Alastor of that too. 

A gentle jazz beat with words you didn’t recognize wafted through the air, as Alastor turned to face you with a satisfied grin. Your eyes instantly shot up to meet his own, but not in time for the demon to notice your strange, heated demeanor and the way you cracked a quick, innocent grin. 

He definitely caught you staring at his ass, and now you had other things to stare at with how snug that leather strap was across his upper body, and the way it seemed to only make his chest puff out even more. You definitely weren’t having a hard time controlling your gaze as Alastor sidled to the desk, a playful glint from his monocle as his eyelids lowered slightly. 

“Find something of interest?” He hummed, cracking a charming smile as he slid his claws gently across the oak desk’s surface, tracing lines downward until he landed at the top drawer. Pulling it open as you averted your gaze, eyes searching for anything of interest.

“Why, yes,” you nodded, putting a hand to your chin in dramatic thought as your attention landed on the bookshelf Alastor had just moved away from, the rows of books on full display, the titles unreadable in the dim light.

“You love to read, unsurprisingly.” You smiled as Alastor pulled a small medical kit from the drawer, turning to face you slowly, “Do you have a preferred genre?” 

“Murder mysteries are a favorite of mine,” He nodded, striding over to the twin vintage cushioned chairs that sat next to the fireplace, “The fear and the adrenaline that spikes through the protagonist as they try to find the killer before the killer finds them, a thrilling hunt from both sides.”

Alastor giggled at that, placing a hand to his mouth as if recalling a fond memory as you slowly joined him next to the fireplace. It flickered with bright green light, licking at the metal railings keeping its size in check as Alastor stood beside the chair, gesturing you to sit.

“You’re the one injured,” you frowned, plopping down into the chair as you took the medical kit from his free hand, “It should be me doing these things for you.” 

“Manners don’t go out the door just because there is blood present, I am still a gentleman,” Alastor replied with a waggle of his finger, before he took a seat near you, his claws tapping against the chair’s arm rhythmically with the jazz music. 

The warmth from the fire had your eyes drooping slightly, exhaustion tickling the back of your scalp. Even though it was technically still early afternoon, almost getting blown up multiple times, meeting the king of Hell who also saved your life, and being in the center of the two power demon’s bickering had drained you. 

Alastor’s room was very serene, the soft jazz lulling you into a tranquility that had you sinking further into the chair. The deep brown, neutral tones of the antique furniture that framed the room, along with the orange lights that flickered softly along the walls were easy on your eyes, and you smiled softly as you unclipped the medical case’s lid and opened it slowly.

With invisible hands, Alastor’s chair moved forward without effort, scraping softly against the dark red carpet beneath before stilling right as his legs were about to brush against your own. Skimming through the contents of bandaids, your attention landed on packaged tiny alcohol wipes and thin white gauze. Placing the two items on your lap, you leaned over and placed the medical kit on a side table nearby. 

Lifting a hand towards Alastor, you beckoned him forward and he slid his fingers into your palm. He leaned forward as you pulled his hand into your lap, one elbow against the arm of the chair, a hand cupping his chin as he watched you tenderly dab his cuts with the alcohol wipe. The smeared blood against his skin was cleaned off as you worked, and Alastor only silently judged you on the strange, affectionate behavior.

Why would you care so much about a few scratches on his hand, when it meant nothing in the long run. It's not like the rose was made out of angelic steel, yet you fretted simply because he could still feel the sting of the thorns on his tender skin.

For any other demon, Alastor would have slapped them across the face with a tentacle for suggesting to look after him in this way. Why would he reveal any kind of weakness to someone who could use it against him, or view him as what, fragile, delicate? That was not something The Radio Demon could have for his image.

Except, your intention was nothing but pure since the first time Alastor had met you. Even Charlie, the sweet and naive woman he’d come to grow fond of, still had her reasons for treating Alastor with great kindness. He was beneficial to her hotel’s success, and as long as he felt welcomed, he’d help her turn her dreams into reality. Since he began climbing the political ladder of Pentagram City, anytime someone wanted his presence was to use him. 

You, on the other hand, had no ulterior motive. Even when you learned from your friend the terrible things they claim Alastor committed, your curiosity and kindness towards him never faltered. 

You had never asked for his help, even going so far as to deny his assistance when it came to putting that snobby boss of yours back in line. Every time the two of you had crossed paths, it had been him initiating the meeting, him making the first moves for you to notice his presence, him seeking you out. 

And now, even seeing Alastor in any kind of vulnerable state, your soft and gentle demeanor didn’t waver, didn’t dull knowing he wasn’t a second-to-none overlord that could take on any threat as he’s so valiantly demonstrated before.

You didn’t value him any less for his injuries, and in truth, your image of him only improved knowing he was just a man in demon form. Someone with insecurities, human emotions like pain and jealousy, and a good eye for flora.

Except, Alastor wished you’d be paying less attention to his grievous wounds, and instead of focusing on the question you were rudely interrupted trying to answer this morning. 

“Come to a decision on your stay at the hotel?” 

Your hands halted in mid-air, the gauze between your fingers while you had been finishing up wrapping his fingers with the white tape. You had been thinking this whole time about different haircuts to subtly introduce Alastor to improve the only slightly lacking feature on his figure.

“Well–I, um, about that…” you started, grimacing at the way the words fell out of your mouth were scrambled under his intense gaze, “I have been thinking, but I mean, there’s a lot to think about. First off, while I believe Charlie really has something going on here with the hotel… I don’t think I fit the criteria.”

“Of course you do!” Alastor chuckled, as if you had just said the silliest thing to have graced his ears, “If a harlot and that slithering simpleton have a chance at leading a virtuous existence, then I'd say the cards are in your hands for that too!” 

You were about to open your mouth, before he leaned back into his chair, slipping his bandaged hand out of your grip and back to his side to inspect it carefully. 

“And, I’m quite confident you could find a more fulfilling job here at the hotel, instead of under that spineless wretch of a man,” Alastor continued, reclining back into the chair as he tilted his head in thought.

“Probably…”

“Not to mention, complimentary room and board? My, you’ve got a very tantalizing offer right in front of you, any sorry bloke off the street would be jumping at the opportunity you’ve been given.”

Was that true? Alastor was really selling this to you, and you reached up a hand to soothingly scratch your neck as you thought. Would it be so bad to stay here? 

Your thoughts from earlier this morning replayed in your head. There wasn’t anything specifically keeping you from denying the offer. You worked a dead-end job around people you were uncomfortable with, the place you were renting was small and falling apart, and you had nobody holding you back. Your friends were there, but weren’t close in your circle. Which kind of meant you didn’t have a circle… except these new demons at the hotel. You were warming up to them, and they weren’t too bad.

Did you really have a shot at redemption? Were you worthy of eternal happiness?

What if having such made you a laughingstock, what if joining these people made you a target of Heaven? That wouldn’t be good, and you were a nobody with no power that 

“Al…” You sighed with a groan, placing your head into your hands. Why did you have to be so indecisive?!

“Why don’t we make a deal?” Alastor's smile cracked wider, the curves of his lips becoming sharper as an unreadable expression crossed his eyes.

“A deal?”

“Just a simple thing,” He smiled innocently, leaning  “No contract or handshake necessary, I believe you are trustworthy to hold up your end with just words.”

God, he was super close to you now, practically nose to nose as he looked at you expectantly. A playful glint shimmered in his red monocle, and your breath hitched at his proximity. 

“What kind of deal?” You finally whispered, heat creeping onto your cheeks.

“You want to learn my interests, want a peek into my life above, hm?” He inched closer to you, smile widening as you leaned backward, “If I take you directly to the source, show you life as I lived it, then you must move to the hotel and stay for one month.”

‘Source’? What did he mean by that? And, if you agreed, you had to stay for a month? But, he was going to open himself up and share his past life with you, which meant a lot to you. 

His eyelids lowered again, something you had noticed earlier when he caught your ogling. Were they lowered in amusement? Some amateurs attempt at bedroom eyes? You could hardly think straight with how close he was to you, a hundred routes of where things could go next skimming through your mind.

Maybe that was just a delusion of yours, wanting Alastor to show more interest than just pretty flowers and a ring that he seemed to sport on you just for show. You barely knew the man, but his kindness and, oh, and that voice… you were just so impatient.

Alastor wasn’t a big physical romantic, you could tell. Which meant you needed to take things slow, respect his space and his pace. He flustered so easily when you complimented him, obviously new to the whole romantic thing in general, and that only made you want to do it again.

Which meant, it would be you that would have to make some moves this time. Even if they were small, it seemed any act of affection would send the deer demon into a tizzy. A kiss on the cheek? Too brazen. A flower crown for his antlers? A little too cottage-girly for him, perhaps.

“I enjoy your excitement at my proposition,” Alastor broke you from your thoughts, as he smiled widely at your dopey expression again, “But I’ll need you to agree with words, darling.”

You really needed to learn to keep your facial expressions in check, it was embarrassing how easily Alastor had been able to catch you mid-daydream so easily. 

“...Okay.” You finally whisper, and energy crackles inside the room right as the words leave your lips.

“Wonderful!” Alastor beamed, rising from the chair in one smooth motion, his good hand wrapping around your forearm suddenly before pulling you up beside him.

Blinking, you felt him slip an arm around yours before tugging you across the room. The jazz from the radio seemed to increase in volume the closer the two of you stepped closer to the pocket dimension a few feet away.

You halted right at the edge, the croaking from the frogs, and distant calls of the owl grew louder as you lifted your head towards the looming trees. The sky was starless, a large, dark blue shadow masking the scene at night as the fireflies danced. What was Alastor planning?

“Just a moment, I need to grab my cane,” he left your side, walking back to the fireplace as your gaze stayed frozen on the swampy atmosphere ahead. 

You leaned forward, trying to get a better look around the weird little pocket-dimension. Even the air inside changed, you could practically taste the humidity in the air as it began to stick to your forehead.

Did the grass still feel like grass, even in a powerful illusion like this? You had no idea Alastor was capable of this kind of magic, especially such vivid scenery. Slowly, you lifted a foot over where brown wood melted into greenery, still hesitant to touch the strange grass.

You held a breath as you crossed the threshold, the sounds of grass crunching beneath as you walked into the wetland. You could feel the water in the soil squelching as you walked slowly, towards nowhere in particular as you twisted your head at the unfamiliar area. 

Thick, swampy vines curled around large trunks and snaked into deep, mucky waters. The way was illuminated by the flickering bodies of fireflies as they danced almost rhythmically to the soft jazz in the background. Sometimes, the surface of the water nearby would ripple, and you swore the shadow of a long body of something stalking underneath the surface passed right next to you.

When you turned to face the line of trees in the distance, two pairs of glowing, yellow eyes met yours. A silhouette of a four-legged creature, tall with branching antlers that tickled at the leaves above its head. The two of you locked eyes for a few moments, and you opened your mouth slightly in awe as it stood elegantly before you.

“My, you are quite a wanderer!” A chipper voice exclaimed behind you, and you pivoted with a yelp to face the static-laced voice smiling softly toward you.

“This place is really amazing,” you laughed, twisting your head to find the buck had disappeared, “It actually feels like we’re back on Earth, almost.”

“It gets better,” Alastor hummed beside you, extending a hand that you accepted with gentle fingers as he grasped you softly.

“Well, how do I look?” He leaned closer to you, puffing his chest slightly as you skimmed across his pretty figure.

Your hands tentatively lifted to adjust the slightly angled black bowtie near his collar, and Alastor only watched you carefully as you fixed it back into place. 

“Perfect,” you sang with a smile, and he mimicked your expression with glee.

“Always a charm, my doe.” Alastor winked, before he slid his arm through yours once more and stood shoulder-to-shoulder beside you. 

His smile was playful, as he glanced at you standing tense beside him. You had a sneaking suspicion he was going to teleport you again, or do something magically stomach-twisting that had you wishing for a paper bag on the side.

“Now, close your eyes…” 

You followed his instruction, squeezing them shut with a deep breath.

You barely had time to exhale before the wind around you turned to a deathly chill, and the humidity was zapped from the air as that familiar feeling of weightlessness had you tightening your hold on Alastor.

You felt him shifting beside you, although you couldn’t imagine into what as your eyes stayed shut tight, cold gripping at your shoulders. It felt like the ground was alive, transforming right beneath you with barely a tremble as you held your breath tightly. 

Then, your ears popped and you felt the grass beneath your feet shift to firm, rocky pavement. There was music, jazz again, but this time the words were audible as women's voices sang with the bumping rhythm. 

‘I’m just a little Jackie Horner,’

‘Since I met my sugar cane,’ 

“Are you going to keep your eyes shut the entire time?” Alastor prodded beside you, his tone laced with amusement as you relaxed slightly at the sound of his voice. 

Taking a deep breath, you crack an eyelid, the darkened atmosphere easy on your vision as you slowly open your eyes to reveal a scene straight out of a history book. 

You were standing in the middle of a cracked, paved road, illuminated by a stretch of tall lamps that cast warm orange tones across the street. Buildings with tall shutters for windows beckoned an invisible finger for you to follow, as spicy, southern food hit your nostrils and the sounds of riled entertainment reached your ears.

‘I left a light lamp on that old corner,’

‘For the moon in lover’s lane,’ 

They all held porches that spanned the entire front of the house-sized buildings. Darkened, silhouetted figures laughed above your head, as you stood there in awe. 

There were a few cars parked on the sides of the street, with thin, flimsy wheels reminding you of distant times when vehicles were just starting to reach the public eye. 

It really felt like you had stepped into the past, everything reminisced to a world before TVs, social media, and WiFi. When newspapers and radios ruled supreme, people came together and danced on the streets instead of dancing behind the camera on silly apps. 

‘When I take my sugar to tea,’ 

‘All the boys are jealous of me,’ 

“Welcome to New Orleans in Roarin’ Twenties!” Alastor beamed beside you, gesturing to the long row of storefronts, the air humming with lively energy and pulsing with vibrant rhythms of tunes long forgotten. 

You jumped at the sound of a baritone horn blaring from beside you. A steamboat filled with flickering lights and singing, boisterous voices chugged past you, its large wheel churning as water cascaded from the paddles. 

A figure turned to you, masked in shadows before they raised an arm and waved across the water towards you. Your lips curved wider with a smile, before lifting a cautious hand and returning the gesture.

‘When I take my sugar to tea,’ 

‘All the boys are jealous of me,’ 

You felt someone bump into your shoulder, another one of those mysterious figures that filled the street. 

“‘Scuse me, miss,” the stranger tipped his hat apologetically to you, bowing slightly as he brushed by.

‘So I never take her where the gang goes,’ 

‘When I take my sugar to tea,’

You twisted your head to finally get a good look at the strangers around you, before your eyes widened at the sight of a doll-like man, his mouth sewn into a wide smile. Black buttons glinted at you from where his eyes should have been, as the man placed his hat back on and turned away. 

You didn’t have time to process the sight before Alastor was pulling you down the street, a live band played outside one bar, the paint mashing keys to a much faster rhythm as two women swung each other across the sidewalk with laughter and the clicking of heels. 

Alastor pulled you along until the two of you stopped at a bakery storefront. Shadowed puppets flowed around you, as your eyes landed on a steaming plate of deep-fried goodness sitting patiently on a table right outside the doorway. 

“Beignets,” He hummed, handing you a pastry, “A cultural classic in these parts.”

‘I’m a rowdy dowdy, that’s me,’

It reminded you of a tiny pillow, sugar coating its surface as you squished the crunchy delicacy before lifting it to your lips.

Taking a bite, the warmth of the bread bloomed across your body as the food traveled down your throat. Your tongue reached out to swipe at the leftover sugar hanging on your lips, as you smiled with pleasure. 

‘She’s a high hat baby, that’s she,’

Alastor only watched you with a soft expression, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you fill your mouth.

“You seem to be enjoying that,” he remarked, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

You nodded enthusiastically, your mouth still partially occupied by the delicious treat. “It’s amazing! I’ve never tasted anything like it before,” you exclaimed, your words muffled by the pastry.

“Well, there’s a lot of things you have yet to experience, my doe!” He sang, before tugging you along with a static-laced chuckle.

As the two of you strolled down the bustling street, your eyes caught a small crowd surrounding a man in a tall, black hat as he smiled charmingly at the audience.

The magician, dressed in a dapper suit adorned with intricate patterns, stood before a small crowd, his hands moving with precision and finesse as he dazzled onlookers with his feats of magic.

Curiosity piqued, you and Alastor paused to watch the spectacle unfold. The magician’s fingers danced across a deck of cards with effortless grace, manipulating them in ways that seemed impossible. Cards vanished into thin air only to reappear in unexpected places, leaving the crowd gasping in amazement.

Alastor only glanced at you unamusingly, and you laughed softly at his facial expression. Magic card tricks were nothing in comparison to what he was capable of, and you were sure he could wow this illusionary crowd in a heartbeat.

The two of you turned, halfway down the street now, as Alastor pointed at a few different sights. He even introduced you to instruments you’d never heard of before as the two of you continued on. 

“Have you ever performed?” You turned to him, another southern treat in your hand as you kept pace underneath the gas-lit lamps above. 

“On the streets? No, not like this,” Alastor shook his head, his nails clicking against his cane rhythmically with the music wafting from a bar nearby as the two of you stood near the edge of the river. 

You had gotten your hands on a small cup of Duchess Potatoes, a light, creamier version of the classic spud. Placing a small spoonful in your mouth, you swirled the flavors across your taste buds as you watched Alastor stare out at the open expanse of water.

“Once in a while, I’d stop at an old friend of mine’s jazz club, and on the nights I had a few extra drinks in my system, I'd lend my voice to the flappers as they danced.” 

“That sounds like fun!”

“It was,” He nodded, recounting the memories with amusement, “Mimzy would always tease me that I'd make better use as a flapper than a radio host. Sometimes, I think about life if I would have 

You laughed softly, imagining such a scene of Alastor dancing in a high skirt and fishnets. 

It wasn’t until the doors to a bar at the end of the street burst open, and large instruments were dragged through the threshold and out into the streets. Men gathered, readying their musical weapons for another nightly show as onlookers turned their attention to them. 

“Do you hear that?” He asked with a large, devilish smile as he turned to face the small crowd gathering. Couples glided in, teasing each other as they paired around the pianist and his band of stringed instruments. You watched his ears twitch slightly, twisting towards the rising noises.

“It looks like they are all going to dance!” You replied next to him, and Alastor turned to see interest gleaming in your gaze. He watched you for a few moments, before his crimson eyes landed on a trolly that was moving its way down the large street and towards the band.

You felt fingers lace around your wrist, and the gentle tugging from beside you as you met Alastor’s mischievous gaze.

“Let’s make sure we don’t miss it, then!” He winked, before he pulled you towards the lumbering vehicle. 

With wide eyes, you watched Alastor take a running start and gracefully leap onto the back of the trolley, hanging tightly to the railing as he beckoned for you to join.

You watched for a moment, before taking a deep breath and running to catch up with the trolly. Laughing, you reached out a hand to grasp Alastor’s as you closed in on the back of the vehicle.

You felt a sizzle of magic drag you an inch forward, and your fingers laced with Alastor’s as he pulled you beside him. He snaked one hand securely around your waist as you leaned out from the side of the vehicle, the wind whipping against your face as you watched the street lights flicker past. 

“I used to time myself on how fast I could make it on,” Alastor’s voice broke you from your awe, and you turned your head to meet his gaze, “I’m not sure if I've improved since my younger days.” 

You only smiled softly, the proximity of his touch hot on your mind, but you didn’t speak a word as the trolley continued on its path, the bar’s lights flashing with life as you beelined towards it. 

The trolley was fast, as it sped by the large steamboat, which honked as if in greeting to the passing vehicle. The trolley replied with a jingle of its own, before the boat disappeared farther down the river.

The trolley began to slow a few feet from the band, which you were thankful for, unsure if you had the physical form to tuck and roll successfully had you needed to make a quick exit.

Alastor landed on the pavement with a thump, twisting his grip so he could help you down with both hands firmly placed at your sides. 

“Let’s hurry before we miss it!” He sang, before pulling you along towards the crowd. The pianist thrummed the keys, inciting the dancers to twirl faster and they were lost in a hypnotic bustle of bodies fluidly maneuvering against each other. The sounds of shoes hitting pavement echoed along with the drumming beat, twisting in a tune of its own creation as you and Alastor moved closer.

But, why did it look like he was going to pull you in the center? Weren’t the two of you just going to stand back and watch? 

You didn’t have time to answer your own questions before you were in the center of the dancing couples. You froze with the spotlight on you, the jazz ringing in your ears as your shoulders softly pumped to the music.

Alastor took your hands carefully, his legs beginning to move in practiced motion as you stood there awkwardly.

“I can’t dance!” You squeaked. 

“It’s the Charleston, darling!” His voice cut through the romping rhythm, sending you a charming grin as he began to move his feet, “It’s not too hard, just follow my lead!” 

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your nerves as you focused on Alastor’s movements. His feet moved with precision and fluidity, his body swaying effortlessly to the beat of the music. You tried to mimic his steps, clumsily at first, but with each passing moment, you found yourself growing more confident as you fell into sync with his rhythm.

As the music swirled around you, you lost yourself in the dance, allowing Alastor to guide you with gentle precision. His hands were warm and reassuring against yours, his touch sending shivers down your spine as you moved together in perfect harmony.

The sounds of shoes hitting pavement echoed in time with the drumming beat, creating a hypnotic melody that seemed to envelop you in its embrace. The world around you faded away as you focused solely on the dance.

With each step, each turn, you felt yourself letting go of your inhibitions, allowing the music to flow through you like a river. You spun and twirled with glee, lost in the intoxicating energy of the moment, a smile spreading across your face as laughter bubbled up from deep within your chest.

As the song reached its climax, you and Alastor moved as one, your bodies intertwined in a symphony of movement and sound. In that fleeting moment, there was no past or future, no worries or doubts – there was only the here and now, the exhilarating rush of the dance, and the feeling of Alastor’s touch against your skin. 

As the music faded into the night, you found yourself breathless and exhilarated, your cheeks flushed with exertion and excitement. You turned to Alastor with a grin, your eyes shining with newfound confidence.

“I can’t believe I just did that!” You exclaimed, the thrill of the dance still coursing through your veins. Alastor chuckled softly, his gaze warm and affectionate as he tilted his head towards you. 

“You were marvelous, my dear,” he replied, his voice filled with pride. “But then again, I wouldn’t expect anything less from someone as extraordinary as you.”

You returned the smile, a breathless laugh escaping your lips as you swayed next to him. The music was beginning to die, the scene slowly falling away as the grass began to replace the tiled, stone pavement under your feet. 

Never did you imagine you’d find yourself dancing near glistening waters, eating the delicacies that the human world once had to offer. 

Never did you imagine, Alastor would be such a good dancer! And, dancing with you, no less! 

“I think my hunger for information has been quenched, for now,” you smiled playfully, eyes locked onto Alastor as the world around you shifted. 

“Good,” Alastor smiled satisfactorily, before a mischievous glint reflected through his monocle, “Now… I believe it's time to hold up your end of the deal.” 

Right. The part where you had to move into the hotel. One month. Not a year, not forever, just one month. Couldn’t you decide by then? 

Yes, you could. You could come to a decision now, honestly, but something else was itching at the back of your mind. An act of affection that would no doubt get a reaction from the demon in front of you. 

“I think you’re onto something…” You nodded slowly, pulling Alastor's hand toward you with a sly smile.

Alastor’s eyebrows furrowed at your behavior, as his fingers lifted closer and closer towards your lips. 

With gentle reverence, you pressed a soft kiss to each of his fingertips, your lips lingering against his skin for a moment longer than necessary. Alastor’s breath caught in his throat, a startled look crossing his features as he watched you with wide eyes.

Finally, the roles had reversed. 

For a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still as you held his hand in yours, your lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. The touch of your lips against his skin sent a fire igniting inside Alastor, one he was struggling to contain. 

A flush of color spread across his cheeks, a rare display of vulnerability that took you by surprise. His usual composed demeanor faltered for just a moment, revealing the depth of emotion hidden beneath the surface.

“Y-you…” Alastor stammered, his voice barely above a whisper as he searched for the right words. But before he could find them, he was interrupted by the sound of laughter echoing in the distance, the moment broken by the world slowly shifting around you.

Clearing his throat and regaining his composure, Alastor withdrew his hand from yours with careful movements. 

“Well, I suppose we should be getting your things,” he said, his tone carefully neutral. But the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed the lingering effects of your gesture.

Behind him, the fireplace illuminated the non-magical side of Alastor’s room, the vintage clock displaying arms that had barely moved an inch since you left on your little adventure. 

“Seems so,” you replied with a honeyed tone, batting your eyelashes at him as he adjusted his bowtie with clumsy fingers.

If you had looked down while flustering the poor man, you’d have noticed his tail high, white fur on full display behind him. Instead, you brushed past him and back into the confines of normalcy.

awwww man, we made it, alastor finally has his girl staying at the hotel! and a lil kissy kiss :3

i hope you guys could understand what was going on lmao i spent like an hour or two looking up pictures of new orleans, southern food, and steamboats 😂

thank you with your patience on this part, have a great day! 🤍

tags 1/2 🏷️

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites @lunaramune @enigmatic-blues @thytorturedpoet @vanhelsingsbigtoe @mixplara @blue122 @zardward @loser-bby @sirens-and-moonflowers @diaouranask @luzzbuzz @theredviolets @the-attention-whore @girl-nahh-two @moonmark98 @asianfrustration13 @fairyv-ice @missam @beezgobuzzbuzz @valentique @dory-98 @mo-0-o @willow404 @karolinda007-blog @nightreverie @luujjvi @amoraneuro @kimmikreates

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hellaverse

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1975 fixer upper in Shelton, WA used to be an art/pottery studio & home on Harstine Island in the middle of Puget Sound, so it's a great location. Has 2bds, 2ba, and lots of potential. Asking $595K. I like it, see what you think.

So, it's a little weather beaten on the exterior. I wonder if that's some of the pottery they made.

If you're a wood lover, you'll be into this house. The carpet isn't bad, but that wallpaper would have to go. It's too dull for my taste.

Very unusual architecture. The interior really isn't that bad. This wood looks to be in good shape.

Large living room with a modern fireplace. The walls and ceiling look new with lovely skylights. Big windows provide a beautiful view of the sound.

Look at this fabulous feature. Love this.

I like the kitchen, it's different and has a great work triangle setup. I would just give the cabinets a light sanding and a couple of coats of polyurethane. The floor needs some TLC, too.

How cool is this? Look at that stove. The floor is worn so it looks like they spent a lot of time here. I don't blame them, it's cozy AF. All it needs is some new cushions and covers.

The back door- the hall has a lof of space for coats and stuff.

How gorgeous is this 2 story library? All it needs is a new set of cushion covers.

Cute little wood stove by the stairs.

Primary bedroom has built-ins and a big window w/a great view.

Nice closet/dressing area.

Large en-suite has vintage double sinks. This house is not bad inside, you could give it a good cleaning and live here while you do the work.

Sunken tub and shower. Look at the little door above the tub.

Check this out, a water closet with a marble top sink and interesting toilet.

There are decks all around the house, and here's a large one over the carport. Now let's have a look at the studio.

Oh, wow, this is huge.

This is fabulous.

Look, they left the pottery wheel and the area where they do the clay. So cool.

Upstairs in the loft. This has potential. It could be made into an apt. for an artist.

The banks of the Puget Sound.

This is how close it is to the water.

2.13 acre lot. Does this mean that you own part of the water in the sound?

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/970-E-Maples-Rd-Shelton-WA-98584/60923977_zpid/?

#rustic homes #unique homes #art studio homes #unusual homes #fixer uppers #houses #house tours #home tour

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Toshia Mori (The Bitter Tea of General Yen, Blondie Johnson)—i think Toshia Mori is a great example of someone who clearly had the makings and charisma of a star & who its easy to imagine thriving in a less white supremacist system than 20s and 30s hollywood. she began acting in silent movies in the late 20s, and in 1932 was selected as a "WAMPAS Baby Star" which was an annual promotion of promising up-and-coming young actresses by the Western Association of Motion Picture Advertisers, becoming the first Asian woman to do so. previous baby stars included Clara Bow, Joan Crawford, and Joan Blondell, and another 1932 honoree was Ginger Rogers. this likely led to her most sizeable role in The Bitter Tea of General Yen (unfortunately a movie with a lot of orientalism going on and white actors in yellowface). she was well received but the studio seemed to lose interest in her career and she largely continued to get bit parts; her last appearance was in a Charlie Chan movie in 1937. she deserved better!!

Veronica Lake (I Married a Witch, Sullivan's Travels)—her look is so iconic they used her as a visual model for jessica rabbit in who framed roger rabbit and a bunch of other femme fatale types in cartoons and live action alike. i didnt think i liked women and then i saw her in sullivans travels and said gee i hope this doesnt awaken anything in me! every role ive seen her in she absolutely oozes an aura of "i know people would ask me to step on them" and her EYES bro every photo ive looked at for this submission its like shes piercing thru time and space to judge me <3

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Toshia Mori:

Veronica Lake:

Her HAIR, her FIGURE, her VOICE, the way she wore LEATHER AND SANG SONGS FOR NO REASON.

I don't believe there's a person on earth who can watch Veronica Lake in I Married A Witch and not be struck by how gorgeous she is. She had that youthful wonder about her that almost every Hollywood starlet was trying to achieve. Her hairstyle (peekaboo bangs) became an iconic Hollywood style after she popularized it, and made her signature look all the more suggestive. Also, witches are tumblrs favorite!

ICONIC hair sweep

The US government literally begged her to change her hairstyle because it was TOO HOT to handle and women who copied it were getting their hair caught in machinery

Her hairstyle was so iconic and popular that the war department had to come out with a PSA instructing lady ironworkers with ways they could pin their hair up to avoid it getting bound in machinery. [https://veteranlife.com/military-history/veronica-lake/]

She played a lot of femme fatale roles but my favorite is Sullivan’s Travels opposite Joel McRea, which is a comedy. She became famous for her hair style at the time—she wore it long and parted on one side so it would fall over half her face in a very sexy way. They called it a peek-a-boo I think. You’ve definitely seen Bugs Bunny dressed up like her, so I think if she’s being honored in such a way she’s very cool.

look at her

she's GORGEOUS in her little witch outfits that she wore for promos and also in the oversized coats and pajamas she wore throughout the movie...she's got RANGE

My Grandpa supposedly dated her in high school, he drove her to school in his car every day. This is legend in the family.

She has gorgeous hair, has got the smouldering look over the shoulder down PAT, and is just drop-dead gorgeous too!

Schizophrenic icon, popularized the peekaboo hairdo long before Jessica Rabbit

She’s just so prettyyyyy

So much hot in such a tiny package. She was no more than 5 feet tall, and some reports claim as small as 4'9"

If you picture a femme fatale in your head, almost certainly Veronica Lake had a hand in shaping the image you think of. She came to embody the look of the noir leading lady as well as the sound and the performance. Certified Noir Baddie.

#veronica lake #toshia mori #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4

[coqxettee]

Coquette Winter Gift Guide:

🎀 Gift ideas for yourself or your friends who love the Coquette aesthetic:

Clothes/Fashion:

1. Anything from Brandy Melville (Amara heart lace pyjamas)

2. Bailey bow uggs or normal uggs

3. Ralph Lauren sweaters

4. A ballet wrap

5. Floral pyjama sets, Cami’s & Long sleeve shirts

6. Grandma cardigans

7. A cable knit sweater

8. Legwarmers/pretty tights

9. A pair of cute gloves

10. ANY clothing from “Mymummadeit”

11. ANY clothing from “Favourite child collective”

12. Any clothing from the “Cutey” section on Romwe

13. A dress/anything from “Selkie”

14. Any slogan tee’s / baby tee’s from small businesses and independent brands

15. Victoria secret Pyjamas/Robe

16. Pink puffa coat

17. Tiffany & co earrings or necklace

18. The “Mymummadeit” puffa bag

19. Kate spade heart bag/Vivienne Westwood one or just a heart purse

20. A printed tote bag

21. Ted baker bags/cosmetic bags

22. Any dresses from - Cider, Motel rocks, Pretty little thing, Oh polly

23. A ballet skirt

24. ECOSUSI summer garden romance bags

25. A cape/fur shaul//A glam doll coat

26. Vintage nightgowns/nightwear

27. Cute earmuffs & things to decorate them with

28. Mary Janes & frilly ankle socks

Beauty:

29. Any products from “Glossier”

30. Dior (addict) makeup products (Lip oil’s, Blush, lip balm,

31. Anything from “Flowerknows” “Etude house” “Too faced” or “Charlotte Tilbury” “C beauty mall products”

32. Chanel lipstick

33. A quilted floral coquette makeup bag

34. W7 Tinted kiss lip oil

35. Miss Dior perfume

36. Chanel mamoiselle perfume

37. Any of the Ariana Grande perfumes/body sprays

38. Penhaligons “The favourite”

39. Oriana “Parfums de Marly”

40. Victoria secret body sprays

41. Paul & Joe Cinamoroll collection

Homeware:

42. The Amazon floral bedsheets

43. A heart mirror

44. Love shack fancy homeware items

45. Anything from Paris Hilton’s new cookery line

46. A ballerina/music box jewellery box

47. Pink/Vanilla Yankee candles

48. FreePrints photos to make a wall collage

49. Roccoco style picture frames

50. An angel tray dish

51. Fake flowers

52. Pretty Cushions / A large throw fluffy blanket,

53. Caroline medium jewellery case

54. Fake cake jewellery boxes

55. Tall candles and a candle holder

56. Posters of celebrity’s/artists etc

57. Any pretty art that can be displayed/put into frames

Self care:

58. Spa headbands, and wrist bands (Kylie skin headband)

59. Inn is free skincare products

60. Philosophy shower and skin products

61. Chanel eye patches

62. Mulberry silk eye mask (pink)

63. Look fantastic heartless hair curlers

64. Dior prestige skin products and body lotions

65. Baylis & Harding products

66. Angel tangle brush

67. Charlotte Tilbury skincare gift sets

68. Elasti - cream

69. Embellished claw clips

70. Sol de Janerio body cream

71. Mugs, hand warmers, face masks, lip scrubs

Miscellaneous: ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚

72. AirPod max

73. Wildflower phone cases & airpod cases

74. A pink waterbottle (Stanley or Lululemon)

75. Lana del rey vinyls

76. Coquette notebooks

77. Dior & Chanel fashion books

78. My year of rest and relaxation

79. The seven husbands of Evelyn Hugo

80. Jellycats

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

I hope this helped you think of some ideas of things you want to ask or get someone for Christmas 🎀✨🎄

Merry Pinkmas coquette doves

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

#baby pink #coquette #coquette aesthetic #lana del rey #girly pink #girly #girly aesthetic #girly girl #girly kei #girly stuff #coquette christmas #pinkmas #christmas

[catboyfelixer]

The Shop Down The Street | Bang Chan

Pairing: Chan x GN!Reader Summary: You've walked down this street many times before, but somehow you never noticed this vintage store until you're literally forced to look at it. They've got some really cool clothes, a huge vinyl record collection, and a cute guy working at the counter. But when you stumble upon a section of the store you shouldn't be able to see, you realize that there's more to this world (and to yourself) than you once thought. Genre: Fluff, Humor, Supernatural Notes: i dont have notes but i will say chan looks really cute in that pic

It was a gust of wind that brought you here, but it felt more like a push. A force at your back propels you forward, and you come face to face with a peculiar shop you've never seen before. "Castlebrook Vintage" the sign out front reads, and through the glass you see a wooden interior filled with racks of clothes and lined with old books on the shelves. It's strange, you walk past this area once a week; surely you would've noticed a cute vintage store here, right?

There's something in your chest pulling at you to go inside, and when you open the door, the chimes echo an intimate song that welcomes you in.

As soon as you step in, you feel the change in temperature. The cold wind is replaced a cozy warmth that is accentuated by the warm yellow lights. You are immediately greeted by an array of interesting clothes, all arranged near the entrance. An old rock song you don't recognize is playing on the speakers, and it accompanies you while you look through the vintage jeans at the front. You're alone in the store, save for a boy beside the counter hanging jackets on a rack. He's quietly singing along to the song, until the drums kick in and he starts hitting the rack with coat hangers as if they were drumsticks. He's got a cute face, and unexpectedly large biceps that are very visible under the black band t-shirt he's wearing. He notices you looking in his direction and flashes a smile, and you pretend you weren't just looking at his arms.

"Need help finding anything?"

"Uh, no! Just browsing," you say, and continue rifling through clothes in an attempt to look busy.

"Alright, if you need anything let me know," he says, and the singing continues as he gets back to work.

To save yourself the embarrassment of being caught checking out a cute guy, you walk further in the store. Long tables stand in the middle of the room, stacked with boxes of vinyl records that are neatly sorted by genre and alphabetical order. Maybe one day you'll take the time to comb through the huge variety of music, but the oddities at the back of the store are what draws your interest.

There's a glass cabinet full of interesting old dinnerware, and walls covered in paintings of ships out at sea. Shelves are full of old technology, old boomboxes and record players. You even spot an Atari with a row of games beside it, but the price of it makes you recoil. You turn around to see other things, and are startled by the life size clown mannequin in the corner you somehow missed. Strangely enough, right when you see it, you feel that same pull that drew you to the store. Beside the mannequin, there's an open door. You can see a tiny portion of the room inside, but the many colors peak your interest.

You carefully walk past the clown and peer into the room. On one side, dark wooden shelves are lined with small glass bottles filled with vibrantly colored liquids. On the other, jars of herbs sit beside crystals and other rocks. The table in the middle is crowded with candles, crystal balls and other weird props that look straight out of a Halloween movie. Bookshelves cover the back wall, and you even see cauldrons and brooms in the corner.

This store must have a lot of interesting clientele.

You enter the room to get a better look, and are immediately hit with the worst headache of your life. Every second that passes feels like it gets stronger, until you're on the floor clutching your head.

You vaguely hear someone talking, but the pain is so strong you can't make out what's being said. And then an instant later, the headache is gone.

"Are you ok?"

You look up from the floor, and see the employee from earlier.

"I... I think so?"

He extends his arm towards you, and pulls you up off the ground.

"Sorry about that," he says, "I didn't know you were gonna walk in there. If you said something earlier, I would've turned that off."

Before you can ask what he meant, he steps into the room and gestures for you to come in, which you oblige.

"So, is there anything you need? Potions are here, ingredients are there, tomes are at the back. If there's anything specific you're looking for, I can get it for you."

He looks at you as if you understand what he's talking about at all.

"What is this place?"

This time, he looks at you as if you've just said something ridiculous.

"You know... the witch room. If you can see this room, you must be a witch, right?"

"Riiiiiiight. The witch room. For witches. Ok."

He pauses for a second.

"You're not a witch, are you."

"Wouldn't that be crazy if I was?" You laugh at the thought, but he looks completely serious.

"Then how did you see this room..." he says, more to himself than to you.

"I mean... the door was open."

"You must have some latent magic in you."

"Yeah, ok sure."

"I know it sounds hard to believe," he says, "but it's the reason you felt that migraine when you walked in here. It's a protection spell. Like an anti-robbery alarm but for witches."

"Or I just get migraines sometimes."

"That would be an incredible coincidence," he says. He walks towards the glass bottles on the shelves. "If we're gonna do this, I should probably do it right." He clears his throat before continuing.

"My name is Chan, and we are witches." He grabs a glass bottle in the shape of a raindrop, pops the cork, and takes a sip of the bright blue liquid inside.

Nothing happens.

"Wait for it..." he says, while nothing continues to happen. "Why is this taking so long-" His body starts to glow blue, and he floats a few inches off the ground. He waves his hand above his head to signal no wires holding him up.

Well damn... magic is real. Or you haven't figured out the trick yet, but magic is more fun to believe.

He floats closer to you and holds out the bottle.

"Wanna try?"

"Uh... I probably shouldn't drink random liquids from strangers."

"You know my name, so I can't be a stranger," he says, before returning the bottle to its place on the shelf, "but I get it. You're missing out though!"

"You said we're witches, right? Can I do magic too?"

"Yup. But I'm guessing you never got taught the basics." He thinks for a bit, and walks towards the back. You follow him to the bookshelves, and he searches through 2-inch thick tomes covered in dust. Finally, he pulls out a thin soft-cover book called 'Magicality: Ages 1-4'. It's bright yellow and the cover has two cartoon bears wearing witch hats.

"Every witch grew up on the Magicality books," he says, handing it to you. "These two bears are my Spongebob. They even made some VHS tapes with these guys and I watched those episodes religiously."

You flip through it, and there's plenty of pictures of the bears teaching the (presumed) infant reader how to do simple and safe spells like making glitter appear, interspersed with jokes and coloring pages.

"This is really cute. Thanks, Chan."

"Read through that, maybe do a word search or two, and you'll have the basics down in no time," he says, "and then come back and I'll teach you more." He winks at you and smiles. "Stuff like this."

He reaches for your hand and opens it, palm up. He traces his fingers on your palm in a circle, and specs of golden light follow his fingers. He slowly lifts his hand and red flower petals materialize one by one, blowing away in the light breeze created by the motion of his hand.

The only way you can describe it is beautiful. Any seed of doubt in the back of your mind disappears; this is real, beautiful magic.

Carefully, the movement slows and his hand goes back down to yours, ending the display.

"Aw, don't stop there..." you say, pouting. He laughs softly.

"I could keep going, or you could come back another time and I'll teach you how to do it yourself."

"So you can sell me another book?" you ask, sarcasm in your voice.

"No, I promise it's not to sell you another book," he says, and places a hand on his heart.

This is the second time he's said he wants to see you again.

"I was gonna sell you a crystal or something, though," he adds. You roll your eyes at that.

"What days do you work?" you ask. He taps his chin, thinking a bit before answering.

"Tell you what. Why don't you text me when you've read Magicality, and I'll let you know my next work day." He pulls out his phone, and opens the 'add contact' screen. "Or you can text me if you just feel like talking."

The cute guy you somehow managed to talk to is asking for your number. He's looking at you with a sparkle in his eye, and you don't know if it's magic or anticipation. Finally, you take his phone and add your information.

"So that's your name. I've been trying to figure out how to ask without ruining the flow of the conversation."

"Oh, sorry. I can't believe I forgot to tell you my name."

"It's all good!" he says, putting his phone back in his pocket. "Before I ring you up for your book, how about I show you one last trick?"

"Really?"

"Yeah! Normal witches are so used to magic that they don't care when something cool happens. But every time I show you something, you have a look of awe on your face. It's really cute."

You hope the blood rushing to your cheeks isn't visible.

"This is my favorite potion. You're gonna be so shocked at what it does."

He walks back to the glass bottles (which you now know are potions) and picks one up shaped like a star. A deep blue liquid swirls around inside as he lifts it.

Once again, he pops off the cork and takes a sip, only this time he recoils at the taste. He looks back and reads the label, and his eyes widen.

"Oh, shit. This was the wrong-"

He doesn't even finish his sentence before collapsing to the ground, face down. The bottle doesn't shatter as it crashes to the ground, but the contents of it spill around him.

"Um."

You stand there in shock for a minute. You walk closer to gently kick his lifeless body, and sigh in relief when he snores. He's not dead, just asleep.

"I'm just gonna... go."

You take out your wallet, pull out a ten dollar bill, and place it on his head. Hopefully that covers the book.

Not sure what to do next, you walk out of the witch room and through the store to the entrance. There's no other employees working there, so with Chan dead on the floor—sorry, asleep on the floor—it's probably not a good idea to leave the store unlocked. Unfortunately, you don't have a key, so you just flip over the 'OPEN' sign to 'CLOSED' and head back home.

#bang chan #chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #chan x reader #chan x you #bang chan fluff #chan fluff #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids x reader fluff #chris bang

[radioappleheadcanons]

@nunalastor I was going to send you this as an ask, but then it got long and I figured, I'd just make it its own post.

Human AU

Charlie is taking a break from school after her first year because she doesn’t know what she wants to do. Or rather, she doesn’t know which of the many things she wants she should follow. She wants to run a non-profit to help people, anyone who needs it. She wants to run a hotel. She wants to be a businesswoman like her ‘Aunt’ Rosie. She could take over any of her aunts or uncles from her dad’s side. There is just too much to choose from. Her girlfriend Vaggie is in the other boat, not knowing what she wants to do, but because she has no clue what she wants now she’s finally free of her family.

They move in with Charlie’s dad and ‘Uncle’ Alastor. They aren’t quite sure what the relationship between them is, because they know it’s not biological, and they don’t act like a normal couple. But they’re clearly more than good friends (They’re in a QPR, but the girls don’t learn that until later). Nifty, Alastor’s ward is there. As is Husk, who refuses to explain why or how he got there. Alastor just smiles somewhat evilly when they ask him. It’s Luce who explains to them that Alastor paid off a large amount of Husk’s debts from a time of drinking and gambling and that part of the terms was that he had to stay with them to prove he could get and stay sober. He tells them not to mention it because it’s a touchy subject.

Charlie thinks Alastor is wonderful for that, and it helps her warm up to the man whom she had started to have mixed feelings about. She knows Alastor and has known him for several years, but she never realized how close he was with her dad. It’s because of this story that Charlie feels confident that she can bring the thin and very white blond guy she found getting beat up by drug dealers home. Alastor has very very mixed feelings about this, because it was funny when he did it. It’s less funny when Charlie does it. But Luce helps pay off the guys and promises that if he behaves he can stay with them. Nifty is the one who recognizes him as the Adult film star who went missing some weeks ago. Alastor demands to know how she knows that because he could have sworn he’d found and destroyed her collection/any accounts she had. (He never gets an answer)

Charlie and Luce are glad that he had never sold and moved out of the large house he had bought when Luce’s siblings had still been under his care. It’s the home she grew up in, and if it felt a little too big when it was just her, her dad, and her mom; it had felt 10x worse after her mom left. She still has a little hope she’ll come back, and her dad does too, even if he’ll never say it. That’s why he kept the house. But now, that dream doesn’t seem so heavy anymore. Not with the seven of them living together, and the frequent visits from Rosie, and Angle’s friend Cherri. Somehow Cherri’s not-boyfriend ended up staying with them too. No one is really sure how that happened.

This fluffy, hurt/comfort (with a little bit of angst) AU features such things as:

Forcing Alastor to get a new coat because the one he has is a vintage 20s piece that really needs to be retired

Helping Angel fight his addiction to drugs and reconnecting him with his twin sister

Charlie and Vaggie figuring out what they want to do with in life

Lilith returning and them figuring out how she fits in their lives now

Luce finding non-traditional jobs he enjoys and can do while working around his depression (he’s very well off, so he just started living off savings after Lilith left and his depression got worse)

Cherri and Pentenoius getting together

Alastor ticking off his ex-friend and coworker Vox

And More!

#qpr radioapple #💚 aka mine #AU HCS #charlie morningstar #vaggie hazbin hotel #hazbin nifty #hazbin husk #angel dust #hazbin rosie #lilith morningstar #hazbin vox #long post

[adrianasunderworld]

So in one of my Papa Crewel headcanon post, I mentioned Crewels mother popping up, ready to be a fun grandma. (In my head I keep calling her Lilith Crewel. So we're going with that.)

She loves to shop. She loves to take Yuu out on the town to all these upscale shops, even Grim gets designer collars and the super fancy tuna when she's around. If Yuu allows, she will happily to parade then around to all her upper crust friends and introduce them as her "precious grandchild.", with zero explanation as to how and when her son had a highschool age child. Lilith loves the look of shock on strangers faces and being told she looks far too young to be a grandmother.

When Divus says no, Lillith is there saying yes. Despite her sons protectiveness stemming over to dating, Lillith has no such reservations. She’s known for leaving a few broken hearts in her wake and divorcing a few rich men. When she hears of all the boys Yuu could possibly date, she’s making a pro and con list for each one.  “Hmm...Draconia can more than keep you secure, and he’s very handsome to boot. The good thing about fae is that he’ll stay tall and handsome too. But darling, Briar Valley? Ugh, positively dull over there. You’d be bored out of your skull out there in the sticks.”

The staff members that are old enough to remember, especially Trein, loathe hearing Lilith is on the prowl again. Nothing ever seems to happen without her knowledge, and she absolutely did not let any slight or injustices slide when her son attended NRC. Divus protective streak comes from her. She wasn't afraid to chew anyone out, or threaten to pull any financial help she so generously offered the school to ensure results. She decided to donate to the school to see that Ramshackle gets the major renovations it needed. "After all, Headmage Crowley. A dorm that so many students, and high profile ones at that, enjoy spending time in must be up to code. You wouldn't want such a liability laying around would you?" She made sure the money went where it intended to go. When Lilith Crewel says jump, you say how high.

Yuu wondered for a bit of this womans attention and nothing more than a fleeting interest. That she wanted something new and exciting and having someone to slap the grandchild title fit the bill. But that changes when Lilith came to Ramshackle bearing a gift. A large garment bag. Upon opening it, Yuu found a vintage fur coat, very similar to what Crewel and his mother wore.

"You don't have to wear it,dear, but it's a bit of a family tradition to pass these pieces on. This one was my own grandmothers."

"But...I-I don't understand..." She was really willing to give them an heirloom just like that?

"I didn't think Divus would ever have,let alone want, children," she explained. "And that's his choice, of course. But the Crewels are a small bunch. We tend to choose our family more often than not. When Divus had taken you under his wing, I was surprised. But puppy,he does care, so very much. You're a Crewel now, so I want you have something of ours."

#twisted wonderland #twst yuu #professor crewel #divus crewel #papa crewel #twst crewel #twst oc #grandma loves you puppies

[susoriginals]

Vintage 1970s Men's Orange Jacket Fleece Lined O's Gold Work Coat Chore Jacket Admiral Sportswear Large made in USA Union Label Only $25

#vintage coat #vintage jacket #orange jacket #orange coat #mens vintage coat #mens vintage jacket #chore coat #Admiral sportswear #usa made #Union label #large vintage coat #1970s fashion #1970s coat #vintage agriculture #etsy

[miwa-soumen]

Koisenu Futari Production Journal ⑩ (translation pt. 1)

part 1 of 3 | part 2 | original article here

this is kind of long (and it's only part one!) so I'm putting it under the cut. if you catch any errors, let me know!

Hello, I am Sayaka Takahashi, the costume director of Koisenu Futari.

In a drama, the costuming of a character plays the fundamental role of adding realism to a characterization. In addition to that, however, I think costuming expresses a “background” that can’t be conveyed by the dialogue or storyline alone, and gives viewers the chance to dig deeper into the characters.

I especially tried to keep this in mind while styling the characters for this show.

Like many, I first heard of the existence of aromantic and asexual people while working on this show. Although there were many new surprises in this regard, reading through the script and understanding the characters better helped me to understand that they were all very fascinating. I soon began working on expanding upon the impressions I got through the costumes.

Approachable and somewhat delicate, despite their strong sense of individuality—in order to convey this impression, I used a variety of colors in the composition of each character’s outfits. The costumes needed to be heavily emphasized in order to come across as colorful in a show with lots of location shooting, but I tried to add color freely without getting boxed in by that.

I will specifically explain the costuming processes of Sakuko, Takahashi, and Kazu.

⚫Sakuko’s Costumes

When styling Sakuko, I tried to ensure that she immediately came off as a bright and likeable character.

At first, I developed a soft, fluffy look using pastels and muted colors, and incorporated recognizable trends such as frills, see-through fabrics, and puffed sleeves in order to create the image of a girl who has fun with both her work and her fashion.

I also expressed her sociable nature using the colors of her jackets and the balance of her backpack. However, after her encounter with Takahashi, she begins to realize that she had been subconsciously changing herself to suit the needs of the people around her.

When Sakuko goes from realization to acceptance, we see her world become more vivid and colorful. This is when her clothes and accessories begin to gradually change. We decided that she had liked rather large earrings even before her realization, and used those alongside her backpack to emphasize her individuality.

While the outfit she wears to visit Takahashi’s home for the first time is a normal commuting outfit, the balance of color used to express her joy and excitement at finally being able to relate to someone, as well as the vigor with which she innocently barges into the house, makes it one of her main looks.

And in episode 3, the coat Sakuko comes across during the shopping scenes in episode 3 becomes a vital part of her awakening to a newfound sense. For this scene, we looked for something very impactful and something that, above all else, suited Sakuko the best. Ms. Kishii looks very good in vivid colors, especially red, so we unanimously decided on this bright red coat during the costume fittings. This coat becomes the start of Sakuko’s discovery of a new part of herself as she begins to try out clothes and accessories she had never chosen to wear previously.

Starting from episode 6, there is a clear change in Sakuko’s appearance, where Takahashi’s grandmother’s influence can be seen. Her style begins to broaden as she begins to embrace vintage clothing and accessories, such as brooches, and begins incorporating more masculine elements. Specifically, we introduced elements that we had been avoiding up through episode 5, such as second-hand clothing, denim, primary colors, black, and large earrings.

I hope we were able to convey the relief and freedom Sakuko feels as she chooses to wear the things that she likes without having to care about what others think of her.

thanks to @dollopheadsandclotpoles and many others for their kind words of encouragement - I hope you enjoy!

part 2 | original article here

#koisenu futari #sakuko #miwa translates #i can't tell if it's my reading comprehension skills deteriorating or if the text was too awkwardly written to begin with #but this was weirdly difficult to translate #especially since it's technically the first time i've translated anything of this scale from japanese to english #it's a fun article though!

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Pre-Show Ritual (18+)

“Do I have something on my face?”

You ran a hand across your mouth, glancing down to your palm to confirm before looking up at Jack. He was sitting no more than 10 feet across from you in the greenroom, backstage at The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon, in an armchair that matched the one you were sitting in.

You had tagged along with Jack and his team for a quick trip to NYC, Jack set to perform his new single “What’s Poppin” in his first TV performance. There is no way you were going to miss this, and it had always been a secret bucket list item for you to see a taping of Jimmy Fallon and get a chance to meet him.

The greenroom had cleared out about five minutes earlier when Neelam and Urban walked over to the side stage to see the other guest interviews, leaving you and Jack alone. Jack had been weirdly quiet the whole day, giving out one-word answers to your excited questions about his upcoming performance. You looked at him, taking in his form. He had chosen a white bomber jacket with “Louisville” in large, embroidered letters across the front, always taking the opportunity to rep his hometown, khaki pants with random patches on his thigh and knees and his favorite New Balance sneakers. Jack was superstitious, always choosing the same gray New Balance sneakers for his performances. While they felt a little “middle aged dad with three kids from the ‘burbs” to you, he had managed to make them seem cool and classic. The last thing you noticed was the gaudy BB Simon belt he had on, embellished with Swarovski crystals, a prop for his song where he mentioned the brand, a nod to early 2000s rap culture. 

While he was obviously looking in your direction, you could tell that he was zoned out, his left leg jiggling in an anxious rhythm, not paying attention to you scarfing down a sandwich from the craft services table across the room, and not analyzing your face for any mustard you may have left on your face.

“Jack- baby?” You snapped in his direction, him reacting with a shake of his head, taking a moment to rake his hand through his mop of brown curls before meeting your eyes. “Everything okay?”, you asked responding to a look of worry across his face.

You placed your empty plate on the table between you two and rubbed your hands on your thighs, the dark wash denim acting as a pseudo napkin. You had chosen to dress comfortably, a basic hoodie underneath a trench coat you had copped from a vintage store in LA. Most of these performance days were sent waiting around in a room, so you knew better than to dress to the nines.

He still hadn’t answered you as you stood and made your way over to his chair, squatting down in front of him, using his knee for leverage. You rested you head on your closed fists and began to study his face.

Jack was usually the most confident man in any room, referring to himself as an alpha male, much to your annoyance and amusement. There was just something about him that made everyone he came across an immediate fan of him and his work. You liked to think that it was that he was so God damn handsome, towering over most people, and had a smile dentists would use in their office advertisements. While you still saw all those things in him tonight, you could tell he was uncharacteristically nervous.

“Talk to me baby, what’s going on?” you placed a hand on his leg to stop his shaking and grabbed both of his hands in yours, placing gentle kisses on his knuckles. He leaned toward you, gazing into your eyes and giving you a weak smile. “Nothing- just pre-performance nerves I guess.”

“You’ve done hundreds of performances in front of way more people then are out there tonight, this is nothing!” Jack dropped your hands lightly into your lap in response to your comment, getting up quickly and making his way over to craft table, fumbling with the basket of fruit set off to the side. “This is not just any performance” he takes a bite out of a granny smith apple with a questionable waxy exterior “this is TV. Millions of people are going to see this performance and I just don’t want to fuck anything up. You know how much my mom loves Jimmy”, his mouth still full of fruit. You reached out toward him to get his attention, knowing he hated green apples, but stopped short when you realized he was occupied. You couldn’t help but giggle as he gestured around wildly, pacing back and forth through the small room and making circles around your standing body, trying to convince not only you, but himself that he was way in over his head.

“What are you laughing at?” he stopped short of you, dropping what was left of the apple core in the trash, his eyebrows scrunched in an inquisitive manner. You grabbed both of his arms, pinning them to his side, hoping to keep him from continuing his tirade long enough to calm his nerves.

“You are fuckin’ adorable when you’re nervous, you know that?” you let out a belly laugh and placed your hands on his cheeks, using your thumbs to rub against his scraggly beard that you loved way too much. It made him look so sexy. You could tell that your attempt was working, Jack placing his hands around your waist, pulling you in closer. You moved your hands down from his beard, slowly tracing your hands down his shoulders, making sure to graze lightly over his pecs, feeling how strong and tight his body felt underneath at least two layers of clothing.

Anxiety quickly turned to lust in his bright blue eyes as Jack followed your movements, temporarily forgetting that he was about to get on the biggest stage of his career, his mind suddenly clouded with impure thoughts. As you continued to make your way down his body, Jack let out an involuntary shiver. Your hand landed on his belt buckle when he started to pull away, against his “better” judgement. “What are you doing, Y/N? As much as I would love to fuck you right here on this couch” he glanced over at the supple leather couch that must have been worth a small fortune, placing a kiss on your lips before continuing “you know I’ve got a thing for sex in public places, and this one would take the cake, I don’t want anyone to walk in on us. I’ve got a reputation to protect!” He gave you a big smile, and you matched it, knowing that he was lying. You both knew he’d love to be the rapper that was known for all his sexual conquests. He had shown you the list on his phone of all the places he wanted you both to “get it on.” (His words, not yours).

“You’re right, but I think I know the way to fix that problem”, you looked over his shoulder at the closed door. You sauntered over to the door, exaggerating the swing of your hips, Jack chucking at your attempt at seduction from afar. You quickly turned the lock of the door, the metal clang echoing throughout the room. You quickly turned to face Jack, your back pressed against the door, eyes narrowed as you focused in on what you were sure was going to release all the anxiety and stress from Jack’s body. “C’mere.” You reached out your hands in an innocent manner, no more suggestive of a hug. Jack quickly made his way to your arms, prepared to sink into your affection, when you quickly flipped the script and swung him around, so he was the one against the door. He hit is head during the flip, his face grimacing, reaching up to rub the back of his head.

“I’m so sorry boo!” Your hand slapped across your mouth in surprise, “are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He replied, now in a full fit of laughter with this situation being just what he needed to get his mind off things.

“Let’s try this again” you pressed into his body, planting a hard, passionate kiss on his lips that lasted a few seconds, both of you leaning into one another and becoming handsy. Jack slid his hands down to your low back, his fingers tangled into the waistband of your jeans, grabbing a handful of your ass in a way that made you moan in surprise. To catch your breath, you broke the seal between your lips, just mere millimeters away from another interaction. Jack kept his eyes closed in anticipation of this make out session continuing, but you had other plans.

“Look at me”, your tone made his eyes shoot open, his vision having to adjust to how close your faces were. You began to work on his belt buckle, slowly pulling the leather out of the buckle, hesitating to pull the prong out of the holes, not breaking eye contact. He had trouble concentrating on your command, his blood supply rushing to a more important area now.

“You know what made me fall in love with you?” the belt was now undone, and you began working on the button and zipper of his jeans, “I can think of a few things” Jack responded, his cockiness coming out through uneven breaths. “My height?” Jack ran his fingers up and down the small of your back as you fumbled with his pants, little space between you to making it more difficult to get to your goal. “Nope, that’s not it,” the only thing keeping you from his erected cock was his boxers, and you slipped your hand down his pants, grabbing his length in your grip, causing him to immediately groan in ecstasy. You used your left hand to slowly begin stroking his length, intent on making him feel good before he went on stage.  Your right hand went to the base of his neck, providing support he so desperately needed to prevent him from buckling at the knees. “My smile?” Jack had to concentrate desperately hard to even think of anything past how good this felt, but he was enjoying having both his ego and dick stroked at the same time. “No, although that’s definitely up there on the list”, you responded pressing kisses on his neck, his chin, his cheeks to prolong his pleasure, meeting his lips in another passionate kiss, though he could barely reciprocate, only managing a deep guttural moan in your mouth. You began to quicken your strokes on his cock, his pelvis pulling in towards you at the change of pace, and you realized that he was getting close to cuming.

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” he praised your actions, leaning his head on your shoulder as his stomach contracted and his body collapsed, his breathing getting louder, frequent grunts and moans ensuring you were giving him exactly what he needed.  You leaned your head against his, your lips close enough to whisper into his ear.  Without stopping the speed and aggressiveness as you rounded the head of his cock in the way you knew he liked during a hand job, you listed some of his best features. “I love your hair, your shoulders, chest hair that trails down your stomach to your-“ you didn’t bother to finish your sentence; you both knew what you were referencing. “But most of all- I love that you don’t let anyone tell you what you can’t do” the end of your sentence was punctuated by Jack cuming into your hand, you continuing to stroke him through to the end of his orgasm.

You took your time removing your hand from Jack’s cock, relishing in the fact that you were the one that made him cum like that, that you were responsible for his pleasure, his reassurance, his relief. As you turned to wipe your hands clean in the bathroom, Jack adjusted and closed his pants button, and buckled his belt back. He took a moment to regain his consciousness and take a deep breath in response to what had just happened. He wasn’t anxious anymore. In fact, he felt fucking good, and more than ready for his first primetime performance.

After washing your hands, you glanced at yourself in the mirror, adjusting your hair and makeup, downright giddy to see Jack perform. You always felt like a proud girlfriend seeing him doing the thing he loves (second to you of course). Jack appeared in the doorframe, wrapping his arms behind you, humming in your ear. You met his eyes in the mirror and realized that his face had completely changed from earlier. This was the man you fell in love with, the self-proclaimed alpha male.

“Thank you, baby,” Jack brushed your hair off your shoulder and planted a kiss on your neck as you laid back into his hold, leaning your head to the side to expose more skin.  He lingered here, planting gentle kisses in the same place, his lips barely touching your skin in a way that made your whole-body shiver. “Whatever are you talking about?” You played coy, hoping to sneak in a few more kisses. “You know just what to do to get me out of my head. And God, you sure do know how to make a man feel good”. You turned in his hold, making your chest meet his, locking eyes on his lips, brushing your thumb against his bottom lip. As if you were making conversation with just his mouth, you held your gaze there. “I meant everything I said, even in the heat of the moment. I love so many things about you,” you looked up at him, his blue eyes sparkling, hanging on your every word, “It doesn’t matter how many people are going to see your performance, live or on the internet tomorrow. You are one of the most talented people I know, and this is only the beginning of what’s going to be an amazing career.” You grabbed Jack’s face in your hands, your kiss this time more delicate, romantic and filled with love then those before. A knock on the door interrupted your personal moment. “Jack, you’re on in five minutes”. The PA sounded rushed and overly tired on the other side of the door, Jack being her third guest she had to round up tonight. Jack bounded over to the door, quietly un-latching the lock, swinging it open to meet a petite woman with wild, curly blonde hair, a headset barely visible through the mess of locks. She was holding a walkie-talkie and clipboard haphazardly, papers randomly held beneath the clip. k

“Great, yeah I’m ready”, Jack looked back at you as he stepped into the busy hallway. Urban was waiting in the hallway, snapping pictures to try to get the best behind the scenes shot as Jack made his way to the stage. “I’m right behind you!”, you yelled behind him, guessing he probably didn’t hear you. You walked down the hall through the crowd of employees and fans of people up to the side stage and stood next to Neelam while you watched Jack get hooked up with a mic pack by the tech assistant. Jack shook off his last-minute nerves like he was about to run through the tunnel at an NBA game, and you gave him two enthusiastic thumbs up, paired with a bright smile that could barely be seen in the dark.

“This song is my jam right now. Making his TV debut, performing “What’s Poppin’”, give it up for Jack Harlow!” Jimmy sat behind his iconic desk as he held an image of Jack’s album, announcing his next guest. The music began playing as the audience cheered. You, Neelam and Urban all began dancing in place to the performance, agreeing that Jack sounded amazing. Neelam bumped you with her elbow in your side to get your attention. “Hey, what changed? When we got here Jack was a mess?”. “I just gave him a pep talk! He just needed to be reminded why he is the best”. You gave Neelam a cheeky smile and then quickly turned back to the performance, so your face didn’t give anything else away. Jack had just hit the final verse of his song. “Well, whatever you did, it worked”. Neelam begins to clap as the song ends, walking towards Jack as he runs backstage.

#jack harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fanfic

[jordanstrophe]

The Manor

CW: Mix of horror and whump, blood, creatures, panic attack, VERY creepy (yet human) whumper, taken captive

Whumpee swore they saw something move beyond the fog. Dread shivered down their back along with the cold. "Follow the path and you'll be safe." Whumpee quoted under their breath.

Footsteps stomped behind them. Right as whumpee turned, someone had a hand on the bag around their shoulder and attempted to rip it off them. It snapped off, and it felt like so did whumpee's shoulder along with it.

"OW- HEY!" Whumpee cried as the figure took off from the path. They gripped their arm and winced; the satchel's loss wasn't affordable, so whumpee took off after them deeper into the forest.

They felt the air notably change. It was thicker, colder, damp. The thief was never regained in sight; and neither was their precious satchel. Whumpee slowed to a stop and groaned a frustrated breath. They glanced around, realizing they may have just stranded themselves somewhere with bone-chilling rumors.

"Those who left the path rarely returned. The ones who did had a dead gaze behind their eyes. They never found the words to describe the horrors. So they were silent."

"Never again will I take this shortcut." Whumpee scolded themselves, dusting moisture off their coat. They started wandering back, keeping their teeth gritted as their shoulder pulsed. A twig snapping to their right as they jumped and clutched their arm.

Perhaps the thief didn't get as far as they thought.

"Hey, can I have my bag back? It's important!" Whumpee called. They heard a deep wet-like snap as whumpee stumbled and tore through branches. "Look neither of us want to be here, so please, just give me my-" .... !

Whumpee saw something white, textured like rough quartz. It had the figure of a man, distorted, crouched on all fours over another. A face was visible, the second figure was the thief: eyes wide and dull, crimson painting their face, the leaves, the dirt, the creature. Their arm was extended and the satchel was deathly clutched within their fingers.

Whumpee covered their mouth before they could gasp. The thief's blank eyes seemed to stare through them as whumpee began backing away.

*SNAP*

Their heel crushed a soaked-stick, letting loose a loud wet crunch. Whumpee swore their heart stopped. The creature didn't seem to notice, however; as it continued to delightfully consume and tear at the thief's body.

Whumpee found themselves turned and running. They regretted everything, the satchel meant nothing and they couldn't fathom what they saw. They noticed the fog starting to lift and spotted a dim light.

The more the fog cleared the more lights they saw, realizing it was all from a single building, a manor. Moss-covered brick walls, the gate was strangely wide open. Suddenly, whumpee heard a sound deep in the woods from where they came.

*Thump* *Thump* *Thump*

Footsteps prowling the forest, slow, with no desire to run. With nowhere else to go, whumpee ran through the gates and up the stairs. The manor was surely abandoned, but it would be shelter until whatever that... thing is passed.

They reached for the rusted-iron doorknob, expecting to have to fight their way in but the door opened like a warm welcome. Whumpee slammed the door shut behind them, sinking to their knees clutching their aching shoulder. They gasped for air, surprised to see a large decorated living room, primarily wine-red vintage. It was warm and glowed from several burning candles

-And all recently lit.

Whumpee's legs trembled as they rose to their feet; they could hear the footsteps through the door. Panic, horror, pain; it all caught up as they felt paralyzed. They couldn't tell what was worse, whatever could be in the manor with them, or what was outside waiting.

They whimpered when the footstep texture changed; from sopping wet dirt to hard stone, the very stairs they just ran up-

-The very stairs right behind them.

They could hear breathing.

Whumpee's hand was still clutching the doorknob. If anyone ever found their body, it would probably still be. Every candle in the manor suddenly flickered and snuffed into darkness.

Whumpee found themselves on the floor hugging their knees sobbing. The candles had flickered back on after a moment; Whumpee rose their head to someone standing over them with their hands folded behind their back.

Their face was pale, their eyes were dark. Their clothes were regal and their expression was calm. Aside from some peculiarities, they looked like a perfectly normal human. Whumpee stared silently through tears that had stopped flowing, pitifully, their body screamed terror, but they were unable to scream themselves.

"My dear, what are you doing on my floor?" Whumper asked, cocking their head to the side.

"I-....ah-...." Whumpee choked. A smile spread over the stranger's face as they held out their hand to them.

"Gracious, you look dreadful! What are you doing all the way out here? Come, up. Off my floor." They wiggled their fingers.

Whumpee felt compelled to take their hand, so they did. The stranger yanked them to their feet as whumpee was glad they offered their good arm.

"-Outs-s-side... so-something outside..." Whumpee gestured towards the door.

"Oh, is there?" The stranger asked with another tilt. "I'll take a look if it'll put you at ease." They smiled, scooting whumpee away from the door and grabbing the doorknob.

"NO DON'T DO THAT!" Whumpee cried, trying to grab their arm but it was too late. The stranger swung the door open without hesitated to the grand reveal: Of nothing.

Whumpee's shouting trailed into silence. The stranger couldn't help but laugh as they felt whumpee clinging to their arm for life.

"Oh sweetheart, you're fine! Everything's okay." They soothed, stroking a single finger down a tear stain. "The fog does play tricks on people. It's not the freshest air." They winked, shutting the door.

"I- I'm so sorry I must ha-have been... Mistaken...." Whumpee mumbled, dropped their arms and clutched their own shoulder. The strangers eyes fixated and seemed to note their pain.

"Of course you were. Happens more often than you think." They patted whumpee's cheek. "Come, sit down. We can talk later, let's take a look at that arm."

"Y-you noticed?" Whumpee sniffed.

"Hard not to, you can't hide pain from me." Whumper smiled.

Whumpee thought that was a rather odd way to put it.

"Oh, and is this yours by chance?" Whumper pulled out a satchel that was tucked behind the couch. It was rough and dripping with water and blood all over the floor. Whumper didn't seem to mind one bit.

But sure enough, it was their satchel.

.....

.....

"Actually..." Whumpee rocked on their heels, their eyes wide staring at the satchel. "I really must get going." Their voice quivered.

Whumper's smile and expression didn't change. They dangled the satchel with a single finger as it swayed side to side.

Whumpee heard the door behind them *click* as it locked.

(This. Was. Supposed. To. Be. SHORT! And a one shot, so perhaps a part 2 inc)

#tw death #tw creepy whumper #whump #whumpee #whumper #soft whumper #environmental whump #horror whump #whump angst #injured whumpee #wounded whumpee #lost whumpee #caretaking whumper #whump writing #whump stories #stranded whump #panic whump #captive whumpee

[indigoraysoflight]

tempted to ask for one of the dirty prompts but to spite myself, how about 23?

CARYL pls

Hey there nonny, here you go <3

23. vintage

It was the cabin all over again.

Carol felt the tension between them wrap around her spine like a taut string as they walked inside the dilapidated building to camp out for the night. It was the first time they were alone. Really alone. Without people muttering around them in French with questioning glances, and suspicious prying eyes following their every move. Daryl hadn't left her side since they reunited a few days ago – he simply clasped her hand and led her inside without a word to his French companions.

They'd held each other so desperately when she found him - his face was pressed into the crook of her neck, his fingers dug deep welts in her jacket, and his arms clutched her so close that she felt his heaving breaths right down to the tips of her toes.

His warmth lingered on her perpetually as she kept finding ridiculous excuses to touch him. She felt ashamed of her weakness, but losing him for all this time had made her fear worse. So her arms lingered on his sides when he checked her after a fight; she leaned into him as they walked, brushed against his fingers when she handed him his crossbow, or traced his face every time she checked his head wound and watched him stare at her lips longingly.

Even though everything ached at that look.

Her tears blurred her vision when his eyes roamed her face every spare moment they had together. He'd hesitate for a long moment before brushing them with his thumbs, and pressing his forehead to hers until it was time to keep moving again.

But the deep yearning for each other's warmth had evaporated into thin air the moment they were on this path by themselves. Reality kicked in as days passed, and she saw how different he looked here, how at ease he was with the terrain and the people.

It reminded her of the days after the cabin when she didn't know exactly where she fit into his life. As the distance between them grew, and his hesitance to approach her got stronger – an unexpected spark of sadness followed her.

They found a large, empty room in the building for the night. The floors were crusted marble, an old charred fireplace against a wall with a stack of wood that looked untouched for years, and a rusty bronze chandelier covered in cobwebs smashed in the corner. The walls were all crooked chunks of brick and plaster cracked away with time. Two long windows on either side of the fireplace filtered the dying light in the room.

She turned her back to him and removed her gun, coat, and jacket. There was a rustle of fabric behind her as he did the same. She unrolled their bedrolls and sat with her back against the wall as he knelt down and lit a fire. He reached into his pocket to draw a box of matches when a tiny brown wooden box fell out, rolled across the floor, and clattered against her right foot.

Carol lifted it to find a crude etching of a flower on top of it, she turned it in her hand as he stoked the flames. He chewed his lip and looked at the box, then back up at her. His hair was soft gold in the firelight with threads of silver peeking through it.

"What's this?" The box rattled as she turned it upside down.

"Open it." He sat with his back against the wall, a few feet away from her.

The box unscrewed, and sitting inside was a tarnished silver Jasper ring. It looked about a hundred years old, with soft ochre and black spots forming around the knots on the sides, the crevices, and the rim of the dotted silver bubbles around the textured green Jasper stone in the middle.

"A ring?" Carol furrowed her brow.

"It's a Jasper ring." Daryl's voice was soft, taking her back to another time when he'd used it to tell her a story. "Heard a long time ago that Jasper helps give you the courage to face hardships and strengthens bonds between loved ones that are gone."

She traced the knots on either side of the ring. "Celtic knots," Daryl moved closer and tentatively touched one. "That there is a love knot, a sign of love shared between two people."

Their eyes locked for one searing moment, his eyes lingering on her lips, tears glistening on his lashes. His lips were chapped and dry, he swiped them with his tongue before looking down at his hands. Carol turned back to the ring.

The Jasper stone was a gradient of streaked green and bright points of soft yellow patterns, like a constellation etched in stone. Its shine had dulled over the years, it looked like it had weathered quite a few storms. She could feel Daryl's eyes on her as she twirled the ring.

"It's beautiful."

"Yeah."

She turned and saw him gazing at her softly.

"Found it in this antique shop I was camping in one night when I was alone in the early days." He leaned his head back on the wall. "Reminded me of that ring you used to wear back at the Commonwealth – the one you lost after the battle."

"Is that why you kept this ring?" Carol hated how small her voice sounded.

He nodded, "It gave me hope."

She searched his eyes quietly even though she knew he was telling the truth.

"Dunno why but I thought for as long as I held on to it, you wouldn't forget me. Let me go." Daryl's eyes were pleading. "So when I saw you again, I could give it to you."

"I'm never going to forget you, Daryl."

His exhale trembled out of him, and his eyes glistened.

Carol wiped her tears and looked down at the ring. "Why didn't you give it to me?" The words cracked around the edges.

"Didn't think you'd want it anymore."

She looked back at him. His fringe covered his face and his fingers twitched in his lap. Carol held the ring out, Daryl accepted it quietly. She locked eyes with him and held out her hand. His eyes widened briefly, and shone in the moonlight as he searched her face. She smiled at him softly, and he placed the ring on her finger.

Leaning her head on his shoulder, she swayed her hand to catch the moonlight on the yellow specks of the Jasper stone. She turned to look at his watery blue eyes to find him staring at her longingly.

"What do you think?"

Daryl's lips quirked up, "It suits ya," he said without looking away from her.

Carol's smile wilted into the raw longing she'd felt when she thought she would never find him again. She caressed his jaw and she let herself see him – all of him beneath the thin veneer he'd donned to survive in this strange land.

Her resolve cracked and tears spilled anew when Daryl made a tiny whimpering sound in the back of his throat and pressed his forehead against hers. He turned his face into her palm and pressed his lips to it, then pulled her closer so she could rest her head on his chest. A few moments later, his breathing turned into soft snores, and the raw longing she felt escaped through her lips before she could stop it.

"Should've gone to New Mexico..."

The silence that followed made the fire crackle louder. The Jasper stone glinted in its light. Carol fisted her fingers in his shirt, nuzzling into his chest and letting her tears soak into his skin as he slept.

"It's still out there." Daryl's chest rumbled beneath her ear. She looked up.

"Yeah?" Carol's voice trembled.

"Yeah." Daryl's voice was firm.

His thumb grazed her cheek and caught her tears, his hand wrapped over the ring and held onto her hers tightly.

He kissed the crown of her head, and she nuzzled back into his chest and pressed a kiss to his skin. His arms engulfed her until she was surrounded by him. Daryl. His breath tangling in her hair, his heart thrumming in her ear, his skin grazing her lips, his warmth lulling her to sleep, and his ring wrapped around her heart.

Hope was not lost.

#I hope this is enough proof that sometimes you don't need a kiss or an ILY to convey how much two people love each other #especially not when you have two actors with a chemistry that burns brighter than a thousand suns #and the lack of a kiss is not the reason why some carylers felt robbed at the end #caryl fanfic #caryl short fic #caryl fanfiction #caryl prompt fill #my fics #carol x daryl #daryl x carol #caryl #anon ask #writing prompts #darylneedscarol #caryl: my short fics and one shots