#Happy cheap candy day

[thegoddessprose]

Since I neglected to post anything Chitarch related yesterday... Happy Cheap Candy Day, everyone

1. I mean... Duh, Plutarch. While they'd known each other for years, they didn't get close until I suppose the middle of catching fire, and it built up over the next few months.

2. Not anymore... She had an ex who's an OC named Theseus who was the father of her youngest, and they were the ones who were the closest to long term commitment. It didn't work out, but they're still friends and love each other... Just not romantically.

3. It's hardly her first time at the rodeo, so what stands out to her is something personal... Something that shows he's been listening to her.

4. Chiasa dislikes impersonal expensive gifts. It's a clear indicator that the giver is showing off how rich he is and cares more about his reputation than her.

5. Most? Hmm... I think post-war, when Plutarch had a particularly hard day, she spent the night pampering him; massages, a nice bath, maybe firing up an old movie for them to either enjoy or make fun of while they cuddled in bed. I have a hunch he's not used to other people taking care of him...

6. A tie between Plutarch telling the press that he's proud to be with her, and when he secretly commissioned a statue of her beloved late father to be erected after he was kept a footnote in history by Snow for so long.

7. Chiasa is well seasoned in flirting, so for the most part she's pretty successful. There will always be those who aren't interested no matter what, however.

8. She doesn't really believe in marriage... Although she wouldn't need anything big, just sincere. The grandest gesture she'd want is a speech about how much he loves her and how happy they've been together.

9. Chiasa likes little bouts of physical affection, like quick kisses or touches, but also likes leaving little notes or messages to tell Plutarch she's thinking of him.

10. We're getting into the creative side here... If Chiasa creates a custom piece of clothing for someone for free, it means she thinks highly of them.

11. Most people love how bubbly and confident she is, as well as kind.

12. I love how she wants nothing more to spread joy and warmth, especially in a world that's the opposite.

13. The affection is a little more platonic (Hugs, for example), and really just telling them, or getting them a meaningful gift.

14. I wouldn't really say she has any she sticks to...

15. Chiasa loves chocolate. Truffles are all well and good, but she likes the heart-shaped mini chocolates (Preferably dark) better.

16. It doesn't have to be a grand gesture, she'd love something low-stakes like a coffee or park date so there's less pressure and a better ability to get to know her suitor.

17. No, I think she might have been burned in the past, and doesn't have time for mind games, so she's on her guard when it comes to actual romance.

18. Eh, I don't know... She certainly prefers men who look like humans rather than some other Eldritch abominations in the Capitol. It's hard for her to resist some good old fashioned BDE, however...

19. Chiasa wasn't really looking for romance... Pre-Plutarch, she thought she just wasn't meant to settle down, that she was a free spirit. She highly values her friends and family, however, and makes sure they know she loves them.

20. Post-war, she's absolutely fine with them because there's no more danger of Snow using her as leverage. I have a feeling Plutarch might be a little reserved, though.

21. Oh, no. She's way too old and romantically savvy for that.

22. It is a bit of a guilty pleasure for her... I'll say it's not the "insta-love" that has her enjoying the trashier genre, however 😉

23. To relax, Chiasa usually gives herself a facial or warm bath and relaxes to some calming music. Incense may or may not be burning as well.

24. Most initial attraction is physical, so it's not hard to figure out there. When it comes to romantic... For her, it's how comfortable she is with him and how much she thinks about him when they're not together... Also whether or not she feels happier when she's with him.

25. For a time, she did (During her New Age phase). Afterwards, she still did to some degree, but also believed she just wasn't meant to have one... Then of course that she did, but she had to wait longer than average.

26. She doesn't really throw that around when it's not platonic.... She was the first to say it to Plutarch, however.

27. Chiasa does follow "tradition" and make chocolates for her loved ones before personally giving them out. Once she's with Plutarch, it's extended to a grander date to "make up" for when they had to be hidden before enthusiastically reliving those times when they were confined to his room.

28. Probably seeing her fashion design supplies replaced when they're getting low, and she calls herself a dork for this, but "parallel play" with little glances. She and Plutarch can be next to each other, but working on different things and just enjoy each other's company.

29. If we're talking modern-ish songs, her favorite would be For Your Eyes Only by Sheena Easton

30. Again thinking "modern," Clueless is her guilty pleasure. Also The Holiday but only Kate Winslet's arc.

Lovey Dovey OC Development Prompts

Here’s a lil’ somethin’ somethin’ for you all on this corporate holiday! You can fill this out on your own, or you can ask your followers to send you numbers! (Oh, and remember that the real holiday is tomorrow, when all the holiday candy is discounted.) Have fun!

♥ (01) Is your OC in love? If so, with whom, and for how long? ♥ (02) Does another OC love your OC? If so, whom, and does your OC know? ♥ (03) Are there any romantic gestures that your OC loves? ♥ (04) Are there any romantic gestures that your OC hates? ♥ (05) What is the most romantic thing your OC has done for someone else? ♥ (06) What is the most romantic thing that has been done for your OC? ♥ (07) How successful is your OC at flirting with others? ♥ (08) What is your OC’s dream marriage proposal? ♥ (09) What is your OC’s favorite small way to show their love? ♥ (10) What is your OC’s favorite big way to show their love? ♥ (11) What do others love most about your OC? ♥ (12) What do you love most about your OC? ♥ (13) How does your OC show their love to those that are not their partner(s)? ♥ (14) Does your OC have any romantic traditions? ♥ (15) What is your OC’s favorite type of Valentine’s Day candy? ♥ (16) What is your OC’s ideal first date? ♥ (17) Could your OC fall in love with someone they’ve never met in person? ♥ (18) Does your OC have a “type”? ♥ (19) How highly does your OC value love (platonic, romantic, or otherwise)? ♥ (20) How does your OC feel about public displays of affection? ♥ (21) Does your OC believe in love at first sight? ♥ (22) How often does your OC read romantic literature? ♥ (23) What is your OC’s favorite nice thing to do for themselves? ♥ (24) How does your OC determine that they’re attracted to someone? ♥ (25) Does your OC believe in soulmates? ♥ (26) Is your OC ever the first to say “I love you”? ♥ (27) How does your OC typically spend their Valentine’s Day? ♥ (28) What is something unconventional that your OC thinks is romantic? ♥ (29) What is your OC’s favorite love song? ♥ (30) What is your OC’s favorite romantic movie?

[luvsupa]

TRICK-WHORE-TREAT!

summary: do NOT fuck summon the insanely hot curse, sukuna.

tags: trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, modern day, pwp, smut (p in v), ōral sex (f!recieving), food (candy) play, sukuna has two dicks, he’s a bully, petnames, dumbification, etc. mdni.

w.c: 2.7k

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS 🧡🧡 IM SOO HAPPY THAT YOU ALL HAVE BEEN FOLLOWING W MY KINKTOBEER MWAAA!!! lowkey sad it’s done but ENJOYYY 🧡

kinktober masterlist

“the hell’s that?” you ask, stepping into the livingroom after finishing up your nightly skincare routine. tonight, it’s just you and your friends mina and sage, skipping every halloween party to hang out together . you’ve all stocked up on snacks and horror games to keep yourselves entertained.

“no clue, got it off some marketplace—thing was dirt cheap,” sage shrugs, holding up an ancient, dusty book that looks like it’s been around since the dawn of time. you step closer as sage hands over the grimy thing, flipping the first page and frowning at the unreadable text.

“this is the dumbest shit ever, we can’t even read it,” you mutter, slamming the book shut as dust fills the air, making you gag. but something about it still piques your interest, so mina does a quick search and manages to decode some of the ancient alphabet, translating the words:

RYOMEN SUKUNA, KING OF CURSES.

SEALED AWAY BY: GOJO CLAN.

DO NOT SUMMON.

you nearly lose it at the dramatic warning. a king of curses sealed up in a ten-dollar marketplace relic? yeah, super scary.

“so, this is like…a bootleg ouija board?” mina asks, clutching your cat, coco, for comfort. you drop the book onto the coffee table with a snort as you and sage crack it open again, flipping through each creaking page. mina pulls your cat tighter as it hisses, clearly over her nerves. as you dig through the pages, you find some ridiculous official chant,

“ryomen sukuna, king of curses, awaken now. break from the seal, emerge from the night.”

you and sage recite it over and over, while mina shuts her eyes like you’re actually summoning something worth fearing.

“lame ass book,” you scoff, tossing it behind you, where it lands with a dull thud on the carpet. after that, you grab the other games you brought for the night, and the three of you dive into a marathon of competitive chaos, yelling and laughing until your voices are hoarse. hours slip by, and between the endless rounds and maybe a bit too much snacking, exhaustion starts to sink in.

“gooood nighttt,” you all mumble sleepily as you collapse, deciding to let mina and sage take the bed while you settle onto the makeshift floor bed. you don’t mind the floor—anything for them.

soon enough, silence fills the room, but in the dead of night, a sudden blast of wind slips under the door, rattling it hard enough to shake you awake. your eyes blink open, heavy with sleep, as a strange light spills through the door’s cracks. did you really forget to turn the lights off?

you tap your phone and squint at the screen, 3:27 AM. you groan softly, realizing you’ve barely slept an hour before the cool wins wakes you. maybe you left the window open?

rising from your makeshift bed, you glance over at sage and mina, fast asleep, curled up with your stuffed animals. you tiptoe toward the door, gently easing it open. you nearly yelp when coco, your cat, slips past you and pads silently toward the living room, ignoring your whispered calls as you follow her.

you freeze when coco hops up into a lap—a man’s lap.

your gaze slowly travels up the figure sitting casually on your couch. in the dim light, you can’t fully make out his features, but you catch glimpses—dark, muscular limbs, and the glint of red eyes that pierce through the shadows. coco purrs contentedly in his lap, her small body relaxed as he strokes her fur with a disturbingly gentle touch.

“c-coco…?” your voice is barely a whisper, each syllable shaky as dread knots in your stomach. as your eyes adjust, you realize he has…more than two arms. two extra limbs drape over the couch, relaxed and disturbingly still.

“coco?” he chuckles darkly, voice rich and deep, cutting through the silence. “show respect, peasant.”

a chill races down your spine. his voice carries a weight that sinks into your bones, making you want to shrink back. he cradles coco close to his chest, his other hands moving with unnatural grace, almost possessively, as if she were his own.

“such a precious creature…i’ve missed having a pet in my kingdom.” he speaks slowly, each word dragging, drawing you further into his presence. kingdom? a sinking feeling tightens your chest as your eyes flick to the spot where you’d tossed that cheap book…now gone.

you edge toward the light switch, hand shaking as you flip it on. what you see makes your heart plummet.

he sprawls on the couch with a lazy, terrifying ease, two extra arms draped like they belong there, his legs spread wide in dark, traditional robes, your small cat nestled comfortably in one of his enormous hands. as your eyes trail up, you catch the tattoos winding over his skin, tracing ancient patterns that seem to pulse. then you see them—two extra eyes, fixed on you, gleaming with an unearthly red glow.

“s-sukuna?” you breathe, recognition dawning as your mind replays the cursed illustrations from the book. your stomach twists. you’ve summoned him. his head lifts, and his eyes lock onto yours—four intense, ruby orbs that make you feel like prey.

slowly, sukuna rises from the couch, his towering frame unfolding to its full, monstrous height. his head nearly brushes the ceiling, his presence filling the room, suffocating. he steps closer, holding coco in one hand while his other arms hang back, giving him an unnervingly calm stance as he approaches. you’re trembling, pinned in place by the dark weight of his gaze.

“woman, your scent…” his voice lowers, rough and insistent, as he gently places coco on the ground. she slinks off, disappearing into the shadows as his eyes never leave yours. “…it’s clouding my mind.”

a sharp heat flares through you, fear mingling with something darker. without thinking, you press your thighs together, shocked by the rush of sensation that shouldn’t be there, not with this terrifying creature towering over you. you back away slowly, unable to break eye contact, until you feel the wall press against your back.

“tell me,” he purrs, a mocking smirk curling his lips as he steps into your space, trapping you between the wall and the solid, overwhelming force of him. “isn’t it pathetic…getting all worked up for a ‘lame ass’ like me?” he taunts, voice dark and dangerous. you swallow hard, realizing he heard every insult, every careless word about him and that “cheap ass book.”

“not my fault that book was less than ten bucks,” you snap back, defiance flickering up despite the fear pressing down on you. you’re not sure where the courage comes from, but you hold his gaze.

his chuckle is a low, rumbling sound, his red eyes burning into you. your gaze dips down, lingering on the sculpted lines of his abdomen under his robe, catching on the hard outline beneath the fabric.

the sick fucker was turned on too.

he’s probably more turned on than you, and it’s beyond obvious as he has you folded in half on the couch, your legs painfully stretched back, feet nearly reaching past your head. two of his hands pin your thighs down with a grip that feels bruising, while his other two cradle the backs of your inner thighs, spreading you open with no mercy. his tongue, impossibly long and sinfully thick, reaches deep, curling once it finds that sweet spot that makes you cry out. your eyes flutter as you fight to stay conscious, catching a glimpse of his face twisted in raw, desperate need. when one of his eyes meets yours, a spark of dark hunger flickers within his piercing gaze, sending a shiver through your entire body.

your walls clamp around his tongue as he plunges even deeper, hitting places that make your breath hitch. “m-more,” you moan, voice needy and broken, completely lost in him. his lips curl into a smirk against you, and he lets you grind into his mouth, allowing you to lose yourself in the pleasure. without you realizing, sukuna reaches for something on the table—a bottle of thick blue syrup, something new he’s been itching to try on you.

your eyes roll back when you feel the cool syrup drizzle onto your swollen, sensitive folds, and you gasp, watching as the blue liquid glistens against your flushed skin, sliding down to coat every inch. sukuna’s grip tightens, pressing your legs further down, holding you in the filthiest position imaginable. he takes his time, squeezing ever sticky drop from the bottle as it pools on your clit, mixing with your arousal and slowly dripping lower, reaching your entrance. his tongue pulls away just enough for him to admire the mess he’s made, eyes gleaming with satisfaction at the way the syrup clings to your needy, twitching cunt.

then, without warning, his mouth is back on you, his tongue dives in, lapping up the syrup in messy, hungry strokes. the taste of blue raspberry mixes with your own sweetness, driving him wild, and he groans deeply as he sloppily devours you. his lips stain blue, and he doesn’t care; he’s making out with your cunt like he’s starved for it, sucking hard on your clit until your mind spins. you feel the gentle scrape of his fangs against your sensitive skin, and the pressure builds as he tugs and pulls, drawing out every bit of sensation he can, his mouth relentless and filthy as he drives you past the edge.

his grip tightens on your legs, pressing them even further down as he spreads you wider, eyes locked onto the sight in front of him. he lets his tongue swirl over your clit, catching the sticky syrup with sloppy, hungry strokes. “look at you,” he groans between licks. “soaked and covered in candy like my own personal treat.” he chuckles darkly, lips stained blue as he smears the syrup messily around your swollen, twitching folds.

“‘kuna, jus’ fuck me already,” you whine, voice thick with impatience. you’ve never felt this desperate, and your gaze keeps drifting down to the thick bulge pressing against his robe. all four of sukuna’s ruby eyes narrow, and he lets out a low, mocking chuckle, clearly taken aback by your demand.

“you think you can boss me around, huh?” he taunts, his grip tightening on your chin as he taps your lips, silently demanding you open your mouth. the moment you part your lips, he spits a thick wad of saliva right onto your tongue. you swallow it instantly, almost embarrassingly eager. he grins down at you, his expression twisted with amusement, and gives your cheek a few light taps. “so nasty… and here i thought you had some dignity.”

in a swift motion he pulls you into his lap, forcing your thighs to spread over his muscular legs. when did he even take off his pants? you barely have time to process it as you feel the heat radiating from him, and your eyes drop to the bulge under his robe.

“you want it so bad?” he sneers, pushing you back with a rough shove. “prove it. since you think you’re in charge, you’re gonna work for it.” he unties his robe with a calculated slowness, letting it slip open. your eyes widen, breath catching at the sight of not one, but two thick, throbbing cocks, pre-cum dripping from both angry red tips, veins snaking along their length. and on his stomach, a grinning mouth, twisted and sinister, completes the terrifying sight.

“what’s wrong? too much for you?” he laughs, watching as your jaw drops, taking in every inch of him. “thought you wanted to act all big and baaad.” his eyes flash as he jerks his hips up, rubbing his tips against your soaked entrance. “go on then. ride me… let’s see if you can keep up, princess.”

“t-two? are you insane?” you gasp, eyes locked on his monstrous cocks, both thick and throbbing as they twitch under his dark gaze. sukuna just smirks, his hand wrapping around one shaft, tapping the flushed, swollen tip against your clit. each soft thud electrifies you, your body jolting with each contact as you slump against his chest, barely able to hold yourself up.

“c’monnn, where’d all that attitude go?” he sneers, flicking your forehead as a warning. the sting makes you wince, and he’s already impatient, lifting your hips with two large hands, positioning you right over his leaking tip. you can barely breathe as you look down, staring at how massive he is. there’s no way you can take all of him—but he’s clearly planning to fit both.

you cry out as he sinks you down onto his first cock, stretching you open in one brutal thrust. your eyes widen, feeling every thick inch filling you to the brim, your walls straining around him, slick and achy. glancing down, you can see the bulge forming where he’s stuffed so deep inside.

sukuna chuckles lowly, a dark, mocking sound that reverberates through your body as his hands roam your hips, patting your head in a twisted kind of praise. “not so tough now, huh?” he taunts, his voice thick with satisfaction as he watches you struggle to take him. you’re utterly stuffed, thighs trembling, mind swimming, and he’s just getting started.

he groans when he feels your walls flutter around him, clenching tighter as his hands move down to your ass, squeezing the flesh hard enough to leave bruises. you moan brokenly, and he smirks, thrusting up with sharp, brutal snaps of his hips. each thrust sends squelching, messy sounds echoing in the room, your arousal spraying out, slicking his abs and thighs. you’re a mess, head lolling against his shoulder as the filthy noises fill your ears, lewd and obscene.

“thereee we go, brat… ‘m right here,” he drawls, one hand pressing down on the bulge in your lower stomach, making you sob. his thrusts grow rougher, inhuman, skin slapping against skin as the couch creaks under the weight of his assault. every time he drives into you, your juices squelch and spray, drenching both of you in a mix of sweat and slick.

“imagine what your friends would think of you,” he growls, voice thick with lust, “getting fucked like a dirty little slut by a demon.” his words make you whimper, panic flashing in your mind at the thought of being caught. but it only fuels him, watching your pathetic, broken reactions as his cock slams relentlessly against your cervix.

then, you feel something warm and slimy flick over your clit, making your eyes snap open. you look down, horrified and aroused, to see a mouth on his stomach, tongue lapping hungrily at your swollen nub. you sob, grinding your hips down, desperate for any kind of release as his mouth devours your sensitive bud.

his cock throbs as he nears his climax, driven crazy by your whimpers and the way your walls cling to him, squeezing him tighter with every thrust. his pace becomes erratic, desperate, hips snapping up harder and faster, both of you teetering on the edge. “fuckkk,” he groans, voice rough, his brow furrowing as he loses control, thrusting sloppily as he chases his own release.

with one last brutal thrust, he spills hot and thick inside you, his cum flooding your insides, filling you up as you shudder and release with him. your essence sprays out, slicking his stomach and thighs, a messy mix of cum and arousal coating everything. his stomach tongue laps up every bit of you, greedily sucking up the slick mess. your body goes limp, utterly spent, as your head falls to his chest, lulled by the rhythm of his heartbeat and the warm stickiness between your thighs.

without a word, you two stay exactly where you are, not moving an inch as you keep clenching around his shaft. his fingers idly play with your hair, lulling you toward sleep when—

“what the fuck is going on?”

your eyes fly open, and you turn to see your friends standing in the living room, eyes wide and mouths hanging open as they stare at the two of you.

how in the hell are you going to explain this…

[youryanderedaddy]

Yandere! Best friend

Tw: female reader, emotional manipulation, jealousy, toxicity, crude language, implied parental abuse/neglect, implied drugs, non - consensual touching, i love manipulative men too much for my own good :((

Summary: Toxic, codependent friendship turns sour. But that's really no surprise.

You love Lauren's flat. You know he's renting it for cheap because his dad is friends with the landlord - and he doesn't give a fuck about the place. You know by the wrappers on the ground and the cigarettes stacked burnt inside the drawers, the stench of weed stuck to the ceiling for what feels like forever - and it's no surprise. Lauren doesn't care about all the good things in his life. And you know by the broken mirror pieces never to be swept away and the pills hidden behind the sink.

Still, you like his flat. The kitchen alone is bigger than your mom's entire house. The fridge is never empty - full from top to bottom, to the very brim, bursting with everything from your favourite chocolate candy to cheap vodka, from top shelf whiskey to pickled onions and fancy imported foreign items you have never seen before with your own two eyes. All colorful, all set in alphabetical order - he's a neat freak like that, and it's no surprise. The central heating never stops, and it's never cold. It's a land of dreams, and some days you wish you could stay forever.

***

"Haha, aw." You whisper to yourself, shoulders moving slowly up and down in sync. You try to stop the slight blush from reaching your face, but it's inevitable, truly. You barely notice when your best friend sneaks behind you, quiet as a snake ready to bite into your open vein.

"You look awfully happy." He observes with certain distaste, almost grimacing - you don't have to look up from your phone, you know him too well, he must be grimacing, and clicking his tongue. "Did the old hag kick the bucket or somethin'?" His lips twist in a cruel little smile as he wraps his arms around your frame - which never ceases to make you feel as if you have a tiny mischievous demon on your shoulder. "No, wait, don't tell me you're getting fired from the burger place. That's even better!" His eyes glow with childish joy as he teases you, and you can feel your cheeks heating up.

"N-no, it's nothing like that. It's really stupid..." You try to look anywhere but at him, fiddling with your phone nervously. "Just go back to reading your book and leave me alone, jerk." You attempt to joke back, but your anxiety gives you away. It's foolish to lie to him to begin with - he's known you for years. He's known you since your father died, since your mother stopped caring whether you're alive or not. He's known you since you broke down in his arms for the first time. He's known you in nothing but smeared mascara and torn bottomless pockets, though empty wallets; he's known you, body and soul (and lips too, all those years ago). So of course he knows that you're lying.

"What is it?" He humms playfully leaning over your shoulder, chin resting on top of your breast. You feel the sweat sticking to his neck (was he in a fight again?), the heavy colognue coming off his black shirt as he tries to read the words on your screen. You quickly turn off your phone, and Lauren pouts, pretending to be upset. "What's so damn important that you can't even tell your best friend?" His voice is light and airy, privy, overwhelmingly sweet and sticky like burnt caramel.

You open your mouth, but no speech comes out. You feel embarrassed. You don't even know where to start. Then the man raises an eyebrow expectantly, eyes prompting Well?, growls in irritation quickly after, and reaches for a new thin cigarette, all in the same breath. He's always been like this - quick to set aflame. Impossible to predict. Hard to resist. Soft, sometimes. In your arms, mostly.

"Fine." He snaps at last, brows furrowed like an angered father as he stands up to get his keys from the table, heading towards the door. "Do whatever the fuck you want. It's not like I'm the only person in this ugly, shitty world who, like, dunno, gives a fuck about yo-"

"You'll just mock me!" You squeak out, crossing your arms together - regretting even laughing in the first place. Then, even more quietly. "If I tell you."

Lauren stills completely, slowly turning back towards you. Your heartbeat speeds up even more, if possible.

"What the fuck happened?" He remains serious, although slightly less aggravated now. "You know I hate this cryptic bullshit you do. Just speak up, you're not a child anymore." He gets closer to you, pointing at your chest. "M not your mommy, ain't gonna hit ya if you say the wrong thing."

You take a deep breath, eyes focused on the cigar hanging off his mouth - together with the sport hoodie and the cheap black beanie he looks like a small fish delinquent, and you have to stop yourself from laughing. But then you remember why you even fought in the first place, and you feel flustered all over again.

"I met someone." You blurt out in a rush to get it over with, averting your eyes to the TV still playing somewhere in the background. The sound has been turned to low - he says the commercials make him want to scratch his head from the inside.

"Huh?" His cigarette falls off. Ash all over the dirty wooden tiles.

"I met someon-

"Yes, I heard you the first time." Lauren pronounces slowly, lips stretching into his oh - so characteristic smile again. "I just couldn't believe it." He stomps over the half lit cigar, burning a hole into the floor. It doesn't look out of order with all the filth. "Who would have known. Heh." He stares at you for entirely too long - until you squirm with discomfort. "Who's the lucky guy?"

You want to ask him why it's so unbelievable for you to meet someone - but it's hard to find the words to. At the same time you know he's just joking, he'd never do anything to hurt you. He's just... rough around the edges.

"You don't know him." Warm heat travels through your body as you think about your secret admirer. "We met online."

"Of course you did." Your friend scoffs, rolling his eyes at you. Then he claps sardonically, lighting up another cigarette. He must have hundreds, if not thousands lying around. "Well, congratulations, princess. You may finally get pounded like a real bitch in heat. Isn't that nice?" The more you look at him, the more crooked his smirk seems to get.

"You're fucking disgusting." You hiss, standing up - ready to collect your things and leave.

You hate when he gets like this.

"Oh, not so fast. We're still talking, baby. Tell me everything." Lauren grabs your elbow, pulling you in with ease, and if he wasn't your best friend, you'd be terrified by how strong he is despite his seemingly slim build. "Does he tell you that you're beautiful? That you're just the most precious thing in the entire world?" His voice lowers down to a whisper in your ear. "Or is he even less creative with his lies?"

You pull away, eyes widening with disbelief.

"He's not like this! How can you even say all th-" You blurt out incoherently, but he stops you in the tracks with a single sharp glare. "He's not like that?" The man snorts in a rather nasty way, pulling you back in while you're too shocked to resist. "You're even dumber that I thought." His eyes narrow to two slits bleeding bile. "Did he fuck you already? Is that why you're acting so naive? You get some mediocre dick and now you're all star - eyed." He laughs with unhinged madness, orbs mudded with pure craze.

Before you can respond, your phone buzzes. You both stare at it for what feels like eternity - but he's faster, always. Ever since you were children. And as you're jumping away, fighting with teeth and nail to get your phone back, he's reading away at your most intimate thoughts and feelings.

"I feel like I've known you for ages." He reads out loud, trying to imitate the voice of the sender. "You must be my other half. I'd love to hold you and cherish you forever." The mocking nasal tone sinks with each word, and once he reaches "forever", it's almost silent. His hands are shaking, eyes blurry. The ink drowns the screen as if trying to get under his own fingernails.

And when he smashes the phone in the ground, it's really no surprise.

"Lauren!" You gasp, falling down to collect the pieces, grabbing at the broken plastic with feral grip. But there's just too many of them, and not enough glue in the whole wide world.

"I should have known you were up to no good in that miserable house. That crack-whore mother of yours is putting these... ideas in your head." He chuckles coldly, staring at you from aboving with unreadable expression - and from so low on the ground he looks like the sun. "She made you believe someone could actually love... you."

He suddenly squats down to your level.

"News-fucking-flash, sweetheart." His fist wraps around your hair, pulling at will. It burns your scalp, but you can't look away, hypnotized by the motion of his lips, the silky cruelty of his voice teasing your ears. "Nobody loves you. Nobody will ever love you - not your poor dead bum of a father, not that bitch you call mother and certainly not this fool you think you love. How could they love you? You're a fucking mess!"

He's laughing at the tears slowly pouring down your cheeks. You're so beautiful when you cry.

"How could they love you?" He repeats softly, stroking your cold wet cheek with two slender fingers - the same fingers that always dry your tears. Then his lips touch your eyelids, slowly, torturously - the same lips that always bring you to tears. "They wouldn't know what to do with you. Such a fragile girl." His nose rubs against your collarbone and suddenly you're drowning in your sadness like a sailor lost at sea. "Such a fragile, broken little girl."

And yet you still love Lauren's apartment, it's never cold, and it's always silent. So silent you can hear your own heartbeat - and so lonely you can taste your tears on his lips.

[pomefioredove]

So people use Kalim, right? Like pretend to be his friend because he has money-

What if Kalim's crush is just like "Yeah I grew up poor....anyways! I bought you this gold bracelet! Probably not real gold, but I thought it'd fit your style." And is just always pulling up with gifts and little trinkets and just refuses to let Kalim spend any money 😭 I also imagine if Kalim gave them a gift, they'd just start bawling because they don't know how to accept gifts-

:3c I love a little kalim posting

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the mystery of the magi

type of post: short fic characters: kalim additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, realizing now that I went a liytle off-prompt, sorry u-u

You gave Kalim one rule.

One rule. You had no expectations, no requirements, no shopping list.

Just one rule... that happened to be impossible for him to follow.

"No money?" Jamil asks, watching Kalim pace the room. "You can't spend any money? So no clothes, no jewelry, no games?"

It's far past curfew, but even Jamil had long forgotten about that. That's how strange this whole thing is.

Kalim has never looked so worried. "Not a thaumark. They said so!"

"Did they...?"

Of course. Jamil has thought you were weird from the day Kalim started coming home with plastic toys and friendship bracelets, "gifts" of yours. But this is just absurd.

The heir to one of the richest families in the world has days to find you the perfect birthday gift, and he can't spend any money.

Kalim's eyes are wide with thought, which is a strange look on him. "They say that my presence is enough..."

"But it's not," Jamil finishes the thought for him. Kalim had always given gifts as love- handing out gold and jewels like they were candy- which made him a treat for... well, most of NRC. But not you.

"Well... there's plenty you can do without spending," Jamil says. "You could... cook something, or plan a nice date..."

Kalim pouts. "It's not enough! Everything they get me is so... perfect... I want to do the same!"

Perfect, meaning the cheap toys from claw machines, drawings, handmade jewelry, half-edible cookies... Kalim keeps everything you give him. Everything. His room is beginning to look like the prize shelf at an arcade.

"This is quite the conundrum, isn't it..." Jamil mutters. "Are you sure I can't-"

"No! I need to come up with it on my own! They're just... so good at gift-giving. I wonder how they do it..." Kalim sighs. Jamil rolls his eyes.

"Then... perhaps I can offer some advice. The sort of gift you're looking to give doesn't come from here," Jamil says, pointing to his head. He trails his finger down to his chest.

"...It comes from here."

Though that was complete nonsense, Kalim lights up. "I-I think I understand! Thanks, Jamil!"

And then he's gone.

.

Trapped in a circle of friends and Scarabia students, you awkwardly smile at their birthday wishes.

Grim's greedy little paws dig into the homemade cake before the candles are out, getting icing all over himself. You chuckle, a warm, loving sound that makes Kalim beam. Good so far.

"Time for gifts. We do have a curfew to mind," Jamil says, and Grim laughs maniacally, reaching out for the first box.

"Actually," Kalim says, smiling as if it were his own birthday. "I was hoping I'd get to give my gift first!"

You chuckle. "I don't see why not,"

Kalim returns the gesture, and he stands on the table, drawing everyone's attention to him. Jamil raises an eyebrow.

"I'm not seeing a box!" Grim shouts, and you shush him. Kalim clears his throat.

"I'm usually not so bad at this, but I had a lot of trouble thinking of the perfect present for you... until Jamil said I was thinking too much here... and not here," he says, pointing first to his head, and then lower, to his throat.

You give Jamil a confused look, but he looks just as lost.

"So... that's what I'm going to do. Happy birthday!"

Everyone watches in some mix of amusement and horror as Kalim begins to sing... in your honor.

Without any accompanying music, he performs, in front of everyone you know, a song about everything he loves about you. Even Jamil looks horrified.

When it's over, the room is quiet. Everyone is staring at Kalim as if his head had fallen off.

Then, slowly, you stand. And you clap.

You're beaming. "That was amazing! Again! Again!"

Kalim grins, unphased by the weird looks everyone is giving you two, and he hops off the table to pull you into a hug.

"I'm so glad you liked it!"

"Liked it!? That was..." you laugh, hugging him back. "That was perfect."

"I can sing it as much as you want! Every night, if it makes you happy!"

"Sevens help me..." Jamil sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Trey gives him a sympathetic pat on the back.

[starkeyisthelastname]

but does he go to the carnival with her lmfao

he sure does. 😏 this one got real dirty. 💦 remember reader is between nineteen and twenty one while rafe is thirty.

He’s grumpy about it, but he can’t say no to your sugary sweet self, especially when you take a grown man’s cock so well. As annoying your persistent little self was, he had never had someone be so obsessed with him and it boosted his ego a little bit to have a doll like you, wanting to be wrapped around him every day. You had attached yourself to him, because you didn’t know any better, just wanting to live your little princess move fantasy about having a boyfriend.

“Would you quit fuckin’ bouncin around, we ain’t even goin’ for that long.” Rafe grumbled, cigarette hanging from between his lips as he could feel you vibrating in the passenger seat of his beat up pick up. “Like a goddamn bunny rabbit, I swear.” He mumbled to himself, flicking the ash out the rolled down window.

Your pretty eyes were wide and full of excitement as Rafe helped you hop down from the truck. You were trying your best to be patient, waiting for him to finish another cigarette as his blue eyes stared at you underneath the old cap he had on. “C’mere.” He said, voice raspy as he blew out the heavy smoke. You closed the little gap between the two of you, his height imposing over your smaller frame. His free hand grabbed your hip possessively, the sweet scent of baby lotion and vanilla overtaking even the heavy nicotine. “Don’t leave my fuckin’ sight while we’re here. Got that sugar?” He asked, a smirk spreading across his face as he watched you nod eagerly and obediently.

He definitely felt out of his element, and bitched about how expensive shit was even though he wasn’t paying. The only thing that made this place bearable was watching your fat ass and pretty tits bounce around at your excitement. You’d force him to ride the ferris wheel, his massive frame cramped in the small cart as you happily sat next to him. He’d then watch you eat a handful of cotton candy, your eyes lighting up in the Carolina sun as you pointed to a huge stuffed white rabbit on the prize wall of one of the game booths. You’d smack your sticky lips together, tugging at his worn t-shirt to get his attention.

He was feeling a little looser after he coaxed you into letting him get a pint of beer which definitely wasn’t the cheap shit he was use to drinking. He’d take a hefty sip, looking down at you as you gave him those doe eyes and pouty cotton candy covered lips. He’d shake his head, downing the rest of the bitter liquid before tossing the plastic cup into a nearby trash can. He then yanked a few tickets out from your delicate hand, grumbling to himself that he was going to try and win a stupid stuffed animal for a girl nearly a decade younger than him.

And oh were you so happy as the guy pulled it off the shelf, the giant thing nearly the size of you as you tried to hold it up. “Can’t even carry the fuckin’ useless thing, can you babydoll?” He asked with a snort, plucking the toy from you and carrying it with ease in one veiny arm. It was the way you said “thank you” in that sweet sugary voice, clinging onto him like puppy and that gorgeous little body and pouty face that made him want to do bad things to you over and over.

He was wrong for this and he knew it, a bad man that couldn’t help but get off on the fact he had you faced down in your frilly twin bed, the slightly rusted metal frame squeaking as he pounded into your fluttering cunt. Your father was asleep just across the hall of the quaint trailer, that might as well of been a mini mansion compared to his shit hole of a place. His rough hand held you by the back of the neck, pushing you down into your newly stuffed rabbit to keep your cries quiet.

“Shh.. you can take it. Just be real quiet for me sweet baby..” He grunted, watching his thick cock stretch out your creamy little hole as the moonlight shined in through your pink blinds. “Can’t have your daddy finding’ out you are takin’ a grown man’s fat cock in your precious cunt..” His voice drawled out lowly, watching your manicured little hands grip onto the quilt for support. Your poor makeup had already stained your new white bunny, your face hot as he continued to hold your head down to keep your pretty moans muffled.

You took him so well, and he was as a hung motherfucker to be fucking your tight little cunt the way he was. It took every ounce of him not to bust inside you as you squeezed his cock, cumming around him like a good fuck doll. He couldn’t do that shit yet though, he needed to wait before he knocked you up with his little trailer park babies. He continued to pile drive his toned hips into you, his hand on the back of your neck to keep you grounded while his climax approached.

As his nuts tightened, he quickly pulled out and yanked your limp body over to face him. He gripped your hair tightly, aiming himself over your fucked out face as he tried to keep his groans quiet. “Open your fuckin’ mouth and stick that pretty tongue out.” He grunted, watching as you obliged without any question which only made his seed start to spurt across your beautiful face. “That’s my good girl.. takin’ my fuckin’ nut to your face in your daddy’s house.” He said with an amused breathless chuckle.

[maveras-posts]

Being Arts ✨Significant Other✨

The Poll showed an overwhelming support for Art Headcanons so come get your juice ya simps. I never see much on our boi so…LETS CHANGE THAT—

The lovely Tags: @michaelmyers-isdaddy @slasherholic @slasherfxcker @arttheclown-coveredinblood @slasherhaven @strange-and-unappealing @uhh-hi03 @kber2424 @local-caffeine @dem0nic-symph0ny-19 @midnightwritersblock

🤡Art the Clown Relationship Headcanons🖤:

FIRST— ATTITUDE 🙄🤌

Art is Pan and honestly could give two F’s about how you look

You intrigued him in some way

Most likely loved his act or giggled at him…

He is a slut for a strong willed person

At the end of the day he gets his way but breaking down a hard headed person gets him ✨OFF✨ (He is not afraid of the Goth Baddies)

Very protective and possessive (Smothering energy)

Won’t admit it but he needs reassurance you love him and won’t leave him

I mean if you tired he would mostly have you and anyone he blames ✨ReMovEd✨

Art mostly loves to make you laugh, even without speaking🤡

This man is mostly, if not ALWAYS in your personal space

What’s yours is ✨MINES✨

Touch is his major love language

Art is also one to pick someone smaller than him (Lil shit loves it because it makes him “useful”)

For the love of all HUMANITY—WATCH.HIM.AROUND.ANYTHING FLAMMABLE. Trust me…

Also don’t let him around duct tape he makes really cool stuff don’t get me wrong but he abuses the power of the tape😭

He shares all of his trash bag candy with you (YOU GOTTA BE VERY SPECIAL)

You will also be put before him or anyone else

GIFTS are also a must, cheap or expensive he’ll get it for you ✨BorrOWED✨ if ykyk

When he misses you sometimes he honks his horn😭

He’s gonna hurt or k!ll ANYONE who even inconveniences you, he is like oh so they cut you off let me cut them off (ART MY GOD NO—)

Contrary to belief he is actually very gentle with you, you’re like glass to him (He’s not this way with anything or anyone)

In the rankings he is definitely one of the top slashers to be s/o YES he can be toxic but once he loves you (in a sick way) he is not gonna leave your side and will try to make you happy😭✋

Hey Yall I hope you’re all well! I have begun my headcanons for our clown of the hour ART. As always suggestions and requests are open! I’m thinking of getting more into the smutty and NSFW Headcanons for the slashers, input would be most appreciated for this as always thanks for reading and I’ll spook ya later!

-Mavera

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: A Day at the Fair

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: You make a new friend.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Ten bucks for a game?” Bucky curls his lip at the sign. 

You giggle around the mouthful of dissolving spun sugar. You gulp and sigh, “oh, you’re such and old man, sometimes.” 

“Ten bucks!” He exclaims again, waving a hand.  

“In my day...” You say in unison with him and he stops abruptly. He squints as you turn and walk backwards with him through the fairgrounds. “And predictable.” 

His blue eyes dull in irritation. “Maybe the world is predictable, huh? And I’m just reacting to it.” 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” you chime and twirls your cotton candy. “Have some, it’s yummy.” 

“I told you not to get that. It’ll give you a stomach ache.” 

“I’m an adult. I can do what I want.” You retort. “I’m gonna get a candy apple and a funnel cake and oooh, do they have those big baked pretzels?” 

“You’re going to get sick.” 

“That’s half the fun,” you smile and your heel catches on a rise in the ground, heavy rubber mats spread to hide thick wires. Bucky’s quick. So quick it makes you dizzy. He catches you and sets you right, sharply spinning you ahead. 

“You need to watch where you’re going,” he girds. 

You just laugh again, “aw, but I got you around to save me.” You put your feet right and fall back into step. “So you’re too cheap to win me that purrito stuffy, so I’ll just do it myself--” 

“I’m not cheap.” 

“Not at all,” you agree with a grin. He stops and face you. You look up at him and take another bite of spun sugar. 

“You are the worst,” he says as he digs in his pocket and twists on his heel, “fine, one purrito coming up.” 

He marches back to the shooting game and greets the man in his striped shirt. He pays for his go and picks up the rifle. He gives you a look before he raises the but to his shoulder. His posture is confident, if not bored. 

The pings come in fast succession. You don’t have a minute to count them but he stops before the rifle clicks, knowing exactly how many he’s fired. All in the centre of the bullseye. He flips the gun and hands it back to the work.  

“A purrito, whatever that is,” he demands. 

The fair employee gapes at him as he accepts the gun. He blinks then glances at the target again. His eyes rove back to Bucky and he frowns as he notices Bucky’s metal hand. 

“Dammit, I knew you looked familiar,” he grumbles and turns to take a purrito from the wall. He hands it over to Bucky who thanks him and turns to you.  

“It’s a cat... in a tortilla?” 

“Yes, a purrrrrrito,” you drag out the words. “Like a burrito but cuter.” 

He sighs, “of course.” 

“It’s so cute!” You wiggle it around gleefully, “I’m going to put it right in my room with all my others!” 

“Others?”  

“Oh, yes, I have a whole shelf of purritos. Big, small, calico, tabby... even a lion.” 

“Wow,” he mutters. 

“We all have collections. What about your cards? Hmm?” 

“Those are priceless. They’re baseball cards from the 1936 World Series. The Yankees won.” 

“Sounds important. I don’t really watch baseball,” you say. “But see? It’s your passion. You love those cards. You even put them in plastic. That’s kinda adorable. Means you care about them. Just like my purritos!” 

“Antique baseball cards are different from stuffed taco cats.” 

“Um, a burrito is not a taco,” you argue. 

“Don’t,” he points at you. “You always do this.” 

“Do what?” 

“You have to argue and then you put on that face--” 

“What face?” You pout. 

“Ah, quit.” 

“Fine,” you harrumph and tuck your prize under your arm. You tear off a piece of cotton candy and hold it out to him, “here.” 

“I told you--” he stops himself and accepts it. He eats it and lets out an ‘mmm’. 

“See, it’s good.” 

“It’s pure sugar.” 

“I know,��� you agree triumphantly. “So, you wanna go on a ride? I like that big one!” 

You point with the empty cone and he tilts his chin up. “Sure, may as well get our money’s worth.” 

“Oh, fun! It’s going to be so scary.” 

“Scary?” Bucky snickers. 

“Not all of us jump out of planes, Mr. Avenger.” 

“Or sing and dance in frills,” he rebuffs. 

You roll your eyes. Your job isn’t the best but you get decent tips at the restaurant. Besides, you don’t exactly have the qualifications to save the world. Sometimes the distance between you, in more than age, is daunting. 

You pass a garbage can and toss the cone. You join the line for the ride and Bucky crowds in behind you between the metal barriers. You wait your turn as you bounce on your shoes and hug your toy. 

“I’m gonna name this one Mew-chanan. After you.” 

“Mew-- oh god.” He shakes his head as he connects the dots. “You’re so cheesy.” 

“And yet you’re still hanging out with me,” you smirk. 

You get to the front of the line and the work offers to hold the purrito. You hand him over and follow another to a seat. Bucky gets in next of you. You squeak as you’re locked into the seat and your insides begin to swim. You should’ve suggested the merry-go-round but you don’t want him to think you’re that lame. 

“My stummy—stomach!” You say as the ride starts to hum.  

“I told you about eating that--” 

Before he can finish, the ride lurches into action. Slow at first, rising and rising. The higher you get, the dizzier you are. As you get to the top, you latch onto his hand. You close your eyes and let out a long breath. 

“You okay?” He asks. 

You blink and look at him. Before you can answer, the ride drops at warp speed. A scream erupts from your chest and you close your eyes. It doesn’t last long but you’re breathless as you stop at the bottom. You squeeze Bucky’s hand as you tremble. You crush his fingers, his real fingers together. 

“Hey, Dreamy, it’s over,” he shakes your hand. 

“I know, I know,” you peel your eyes open. “That was... fun.” 

He watches you, his blue eyes almost cloudy. You open your hand and his thumb taps your knuckle before he turns his palm down. You blow out as the harness lifts from your chest. 

“Come on!” You hop out of the seat. “Let’s do another.” 

[bambisspeckles]

Couples Costumes ✿ Flufftober Day Nine -- Simon

Summary: You and Simon have a hard time agreeing on a couples costume! WC: 758 <3 Song of the day: Cherry ❁ Lana Del Rey

"Okay, okay! What about this one? It's cute and I'd get to dress up like a deer!" You tug on the sleeve of Simon's jacket, pointing at the screen of your computer with your other hand.

He groans loudly and you could practically hear his eyes rolling as he begrudgingly drags his gaze to the screen of your laptop.

"A hunter and a deer? You serious?" He asks unimpressed. "Don' really wanna go as some fetish version of bambi." You gasp as his crude joke, jabbing your elbow into his arm.

"It's not fetish, it's cute! But fine you've ruined it for me anyways." Now it's your turn to roll your eyes, annoyed with your boyfriends exclusive taste when it comes to couples costumes.

"Why do you even wan' to dress up? Bit childish, no?" You let out a scoff, glaring daggers in his direction.

"I do not want to hear that coming from the same man who cosplays as a fucking ghost ninety percent of the year." Simon grumbles at your comment, leaning down to nip at your earlobe.

You gently push him away, whining softly at his teasing. He relents, chuckling meanly at your wordless complaint. You scroll through some more Pinterest boards, searching for perfect ideas, before finding, what you think, is a viable option for you and Simon.

"M'kay Si, what about this one? Isn't it fun?" Once again you can basically hear Simon roll his eyes as he places his phone on the table to look at your screen.

"The wolf and little red riding hood?" His stare far too judgmental for your liking. "Not sure if your ideas are gettin' better or worse sweethear'."

You groan, rolling your eyes so far back you would swear you could see the inside of your skull, before slamming your computer shut.

"Okay fine, I give up! No parties, no couples costumes, no candy, no Halloween!" You scoot your chair away from Simon's, which he promptly corrects by dragging you back over to him.

"No Simon.. Leave me alone I don't wanna sit next to you right now!" He sighs before shushing your petulant whines, and angling your chair towards his.

"Okay, relax. Do ya wanna tell me wha' your issue is love? Why's this botherin' you so much?" You ignore him at first, be then he grabs your face with his hand, squeezing your cheeks roughly.

A small whimper escapes your lips and you pull away, batting his hand away from your face.

"Fine, just stop squeezing my cheeks it hurts!" He chuckles under his breath and you scowl. "You're not making it any easier to talk with you Simon."

He presses a kiss to your forehead, pulling away with a gentle smile.

"Alright, M' done. C'mon, talk to me now sweethear'." You can tell he's actually done so you allow yourself a moment to compose your emotions before speaking.

"I know this is silly to you Simon. The costumes, especially the couple ones, the parties, the cheap scares… But to me it's fun and whimsical, and you're not even bothering to pretend you care! It makes me not want to do anything at all, and that really sucks." Your bottom lip sits in a pout and Simon feels bad, honestly he does.

He sighs, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into his lap. He nuzzles his face into your neck, kissing and sucking gently until he feels your body relax in his arms.

"M' sorry love. Was bein' a right bastard, didn' mean to ruin your fun." You hum, taking in his words as he continues to kiss the sensitive skin of your neck.

It really would piss you off more if you didn't know his apology was sincere.

"Can do whateva' you wan' for Halloween, okay? Dress-up as whoever you wan', promise I won't be an arsehole." He finally pulls himself from your neck, his pretty brown eyes staring into yours.

"But I want you to have fun too… Don't wanna drag you into it if you're not gonna have fun." Simon tilts his face towards yours and you quickly get the message, letting him press a soft kiss to your lips.

"M' happy either way love, long as you're happy I couldn' ask for anythin' more." You smile, pressing another kiss to his lips.

"Promise?" You ask, head tilted to the side.

"Swear on my life love, I'd kill someone to prove it."

He would, he probably has before, not that he'd ever tell you. Not that you'd ever know.

[fiendishfables]

"You already know how much I love you~"

A 2024 Valentines Day Special Ft. Luci + Reader

a/n: Happy Valentines! I don't have a valentine (its my cat) but fuck that, I'm going to snag some cheap candy-

summary: Lucifer decides to take you to a special spot; one where everything began anew for him and his true beauty is revealed

warnings: fluff, cuddles, wholesomeness, Luci just needs some cuddles guys, just cute shi-

words: 1.6k+

additional notes: I like to think there is just some random cherry blossom hidden away somewhere in Hell and that is where our short king got the honor of falling. Or he created the tree upon impact, one of the two. I JUST WANT HIM TO HAVE SOMETHING NICE, THE POOR BABY-

This was honestly not what you had pictured in your brain when your boyfriend had said he wanted to take you somewhere special...

Currently, you and your boyfriend, Lucifer, were making your way up a hill. Its adorning grass was a brownish-green, making it look like autumn had begun to actually seep into the worlds crust instead of just being dusted off until next year. Another thing: it looked strangely untouched. Everything in Hell looked like literal shit, so this was a pleasant surprise, other than its stained color.

You looked up to see your boyfriend had left your side and was practically sprinting up the hill, like he was a Labrador who just saw a squirrel. You raised a quizzical eyebrow but felt the small, familiar tug of a smile grappling for a hold on each corner of your lips. A sigh slipped from you as you shook your head with amusement at his childish antics. He really never failed to make you smile.

Once you had decided to pick up your own pace with what you were using to climb the grassy hill, he had already reached the top. You met him in the next thirty seconds that followed.

Atop the hill he had brought you both to was a beautiful, giant, cherry blossom tree. Its pink petals swayed gently in the wind, brushing against one another and the branches that held them together in clusters. A few delicate petals would come free from the hold of a branch every few seconds, going on to continue its life in a different way, as it drifted towards the ground.

This particular blossom you were watching drift downwards was then caught, gently, in the hand of your boyfriend.

You had almost forgotten he was there, having been mesmerized by the beautiful pink and white colored tree hanging above both of your heads. Seeing him now, he was sitting underneath the cherry blossom, a soft smile on his face. He shifted his fingers so the plush, pink petal was between his thumb and pointer finger, holding it up and out to you like a silent offering.

You chuckled softly, walking further under the tree and plopping yourself down beside Lucifer, watching him examine the petal between his fingertips, almost as if deciding what to do with it.

He turned to look at you again, smiling still (when was he ever not when he was around you). That smile then turned to a smug smirk as he gently blew on the petal now in his palm, whistling softly. The action sent the petal drifting towards you and up, into your hair, where it found a place to nestle itself comfortably amongst the strands, lightly tickling your forehead as it passed by.

"Magic?"

You gave him a small smirk of your own. You knew he liked to do these little acts to impress you; not saying they failed to deliver, but you knew to expect them by now. Still, it was always a pleasant experience.

The ground beneath the two of you was covered in soft, little cherry blossom petals, showing the trees shedding tendencies. The grass that could be seen under the mirage of petals was actually green here, unlike the shit stained looking grass you had walked on leading up to the hill.

He offered a smile, a nod, then looked away, letting out a sigh as he raised his head again. His eyes seemed to be scanning the cities of Hell below; the hill gave a perfect view of all his people, the bustling populations giving light to the aspect that Hell was more alive than the pricks up in Heaven would ever accept.

Whilst observing all of these things, you also seemed to sense that your boyfriend was being a lot quieter than usual. He hadn't spoken since he had brought you up here to sit together. Not once. It was out of character.

"Luci?"

You spoke to break the ever-growing silence, turning your head and shifting your eyes back up to his, only to see him already staring at you. This caused you to flinch a bit in surprise. He noticed this and instantly looked ashamed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked away from you.

"Ah- uh, sorry, darling. Just..thinking..."

He spoke almost nervously, like he was expecting something; walking on eggshells.

You looked at him sympathetically, smiling gently as you took his hand in yours.

"Babe, what's wrong? You can talk to me, y'know?" You said, gently running your thumb over his knuckles in a hopes to soothe him if possible.

He took a deep breath, your eyes trained on the steady rise and fall of his chest. There was silence for many minutes before he finally spoke.

"This is the place I fell."

You raised an eyebrow at his statement, the words taking a second to process before you realized he was talking about the cherry blossom. You looked up on instinct, taking in the swaying colors of pink and white, the wind letting them dance around freely and fall how they pleased.

"You...here? Like, fell...here? Of all places?"

You were a tad bit confused. The King of Hell, a.k.a. Lucifer, a.k.a. your boyfriend...fell in this exact spot? Fell where you were sitting right this second?

His nod was the only thing to answer you besides the delicately whistling wind.

"Well...its much nicer an area than I expected for what is to be deemed such a tragedy." You mustered an awkward smile. "Why would you bring me here?" You asked, now more curious than confused.

He looked over at you then back at his feet, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, like he was trying to shield himself from an invisible force.

"Well, ya know....I-I trust you a-and...I-I figured since, ya know, we've been together so long now...that maybe you'd wanna see the place most special to me..."

His slight stammering made a twinge of pity go through your heart but you quickly pushed it away. He didn't need pity right now. He needed support. This place had to be a bit of a touchy subject for him, considering its literally where he first landed when he was casted out from Heaven. You doubted it had many good memories attached to it.

"Most special?" You questioned. That did not make much sense in your mind.

"Yes. I feel like, in a way, my falling was another chance gifted to me. I mean, hey," He chuckled and his normal sparky attitude began shining through once again. "I'm King of Hell, am I not? I think I got a pretty good rep going." He puffed out his chest playfully, glancing over at you.

You laughed softly and leaned over to gently kiss his cheek. His already rosy cheeks amplified in color.

"That's one way to see it. I appreciate you showing me this place, Luci. You being vulnerable enough with me to tell me more about yourself and what's happened to you...I know it must be hard. This place sure is beautiful though." You smiled, looking upwards at the tree from underneath it, then back to him, a smirk replacing the smile.

"Do you think your fall is what caused it to grow with such vigor and beauty? Your fall is probably what birthed the tree, made it so beautiful and prosperous."

Lucifer blushed and waved a dismissive hand, biting his lip to fight his usual smile. This caused you to chuckle softly.

A soft, serene silence fell over the two of you. You could tell he was pondering your question just from the expression on his face. You hadn't expected him to actually try and answer it, if that's what he was planning on doing.

"...You really think so?"

His eyes were watery when he spoke again, as they turned their loyal gaze onto you. Just those words meant a lot to him and it showed, plain as day. He was rarely classified as a beautiful being. Not in Heaven and especially not by the living.

You smiled and nodded, slightly surprised by his reaction but going in full swing.

"I know so, Luci. There is no think about it. Someone with as beautiful a spirit as you is bound to spread that beauty. I have no doubt."

In the next second that followed your ceased speaking, Lucifer had flung himself on top of you. He sniffled as a few silent tears fell down his cheeks as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, peppering soft kisses there. One of his hands held you close to him whilst the other carded gently through your hair, tangling the loose blossoms into the strands even further. He lifted his head to look at you, big watery eyes filled with so much affection; so much love for you it was insane.

Hellens, just the way he looked at you. Like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever yet to lay his eyes on. Like he was a dying man and you a fresh drink of water. Like the one ray of sunshine on a rainy day. Like you were a goddess.

But not just any goddess.

His.

His goddess.

One of a kind.

Your hand gently came up to sprinkle some more of the pink and white colored cherry blossoms into his pale blonde hair that you had come to love so much. Pink really was a good fit for him, you thought.

"I love you..." He whispered softly, sniffling. "So..so much. More than you'd ever be able to understand."

You smiled and let your lips meet in a gentle kiss, before parting once again so you could speak.

"I love you too, Luci. But I think you already know how much."

And it was true.

[fanfic-gallery]

manger's random tots #8 [ NSFW MDNI ]

|| cw (dead dove) : implications of stalking, spying

» manager's note: with the trending of the milkman over all my social media nowadays, i've decided not to hop on this train- but instead, write about some other type of pretty boy with a low paying profession (no, this is not a 'that's not my neigbour' fic, thank you) hope you guys enjoy...? (i had the idea him being an oc in mind but you can slap whatever character you want <3)

the neighbourhood mailman; absolute sweetheart, can do no wrong- sometimes giving away small little treats and nick-nacks along side the letters, pulling off light tricks and pranks to gargle a laugh or two, trying to brighten people's days.

yet, most don't seem too kind about his selfless gestures; impatient and grumpy bastards telling him off, yelling at him to knock it off with his piercing bike bell and 'nice guy' act.

on days like those, the only thing that seemed to be his light at the end of the tunnel, after gurgitating hours of cycling about under pretty harsh weathers, being chased off walk-way after walk-way... was you, his last patron of each day.

you weren't one of the first few in his delivery route; yet, you barely lived far down, so why is it that you were always his last? "...don't know... your letters always seemed to be at the bottom of the pile~" is what he claims; when in truth, he just wishes to spend the rest of his late-evening chatting your ear off with fun little misadventures he had during the past week.

he felt... cherished for once in his life; not someone needing to deal with the sour attitudes of people when they're all huffy or some boy-toy, taking his acts of service as an invitation to go running their hands all over him. he loved how he could play around, joke and complain without having the need to refrain himself. he felt... alive.

so it was to no one's surprise that he developed a massive crush on you; always giving you a little extra compared to the other townsfolk. full length handwritten letters, extra savings of candy and snacks he's been distributing that day, that box of pastries you seemed to have been eyeing up for the last few days or that prize you didn't manage to win during on one of your latest trips to the arcade.

seems light-hearted enough, right? if only you knew what other little treats he placed within your regular delivery... envelopes holding typed-letters; pouring his love for you over the many, many pages... each line, each paragraph... sometimes even rambling off into tangents- tangents of what he had been dreaming to do to you since day one... since the day you noticed his pains and took upon yourself to heal him back up.

yet, these sick fantasizes, these twisted thoughts on paper- you never blamed him for it, why would you went the initials signing off the letters eerily matched the creep that lived a few houses down from yours, who always seemed to have brought themselves false hope in charming you even after you said no.

no... you would never blame the innocent, naive mailman who's barely paid enough to suffer from verbal abuse every day of his life; barely having the funds to keep a himself together; yet, still cherished the happiness of others over his own.

maybe that's why you always seemed to accept his 'lustrous' gifts, especially that medium-sized stuffed bunny he so graciously sewed for you for valentine's to rid you of your loneliness. its soft yet limp body still laying on your bed, oblivious of the shine behind its dull black spheric eyes.

"...hah... hah...~" lustful eyes smiling as his flushed features melted against the monochrome screen he's stuck himself to, body trembling with each stroke of his throbbing cock, relishing in the soft breaths as you slept, spurring more pre to drip down his plush thighs, drenching the ground beneath his cheap desk chair. "...soon... soon, my love... i'll tell you the truth..."

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Camp Half Blood Halloween Lookalike Shenanigans Headcanon

My little brother and I decided it would be funny if there was a Camp Half-Blood halloween party where everyone came dressed as a different member of the camp. Our ideas include:

Grover dresses as Percy, borrowing one of his flannel shirts and putting a streak of gray in his hair.

Nico also dresses as Percy, but in the most stereotypical way possible. He keeps pulling massive amounts of blue candy out of his pockets and threatening to fight people with a ballpoint pen.

Annabeth dresses as Grover. She finds a way to get food to look like tin cans and candy wrappers, and spends the whole time eating those while stopping everyone who keeps accidentally littering.

Percy and Jason dress as each other and swear they didn't plan it in advance. Piper also dresses as Annabeth and she and Jason call each other seaweed brain and wise girl the whole time.

Mr. D complains that the whole thing is stupid and he's not participating, up until the day of the party, when he's seen walking around with an orange t-shirt and a nametag that says "PETER JOHNSON"

Connor and Travis are dressed as themselves. They keep saying things like "CLEARLY I'm dressed as my brother," and "can't you tell? We switched necklaces!" when in actuality they did not at all and came dressed as themselves (or as each other pretending to be themselves I guess?)

Will plays the greatest Nico DiAngelo imaginable, wearing all black, carrying around a Happy Meal box, and walking around complaining about how "everyone hates me even though I have no evidence to support this claim" and "oh maybe those Apollo kids are right and I should start actually taking care of myself, but alas! I shall not!"

Leo dresses as Jason. Actually, he's wearing a superman costume and a blonde wig, but it gets the point across. He keeps walking up to Percy, who is also dressed as Jason, and saying "oh great, ONE of us is gonna have to change," and also finding random places to pretend to pass out and knock himself unconscious. He's having the time of his life....

That is, until Hazel shows up from Camp Jupiter in a dirty white buttondown shirt and suspenders, grease staining her face and hair, wearing a cheap dollar tree toolbelt with plastic tools. She peppers a pun into every conversation and jokingly flirts with half the girls there, and even though Leo acts unimpressed, everyone else agrees she almost makes a better Leo than he does.

Frank comes with her. Having mastered his powers of shapeshifting, he manages to shapeshift only his lower half into a horse, thus making a pretty good centaur, and he wears a suit jacket and speaks in a cryptic manner, making for a pretty convincing Chiron. At first, Frank wasn't sure if it was such a good idea. Maybe Chiron would think it was rude, or in poor taste? He ends up very glad that Hazel and Leo convinced him to do it when he sees how much everyone appreciates his costume.

And, of course, Frank realizes he had nothing to worry about when Chiron comes in wearing a hawaiian shirt, with a diet coke in hand, as he calls every single camper by the wrong name.

[lm-tomatito]

Espilver week day 2: Celebration

Chaotix au (Silver is part of the team)

It's Halloween and, thanks to the kids "request", Vector throws a little party for the team. As someone who didn't get to experience social events, Silver is very excited about the occasion, going around talking to everyone and showing off his costume. A certain detective can't help but look at the hedgehog with adoration.

There wasn't going to be any party, not with how little money they had this year, again. But Charmy and Cream had been very insistent, mostly the bee kid, and their faces full of excitement made it too hard for Vector to deny them at least a small celebration. Of course, Vanilla's smile and her saying how fun it'd be contributed to his decision. So here they were now, all gathered in the small backyard they had surrounded by the night sky, bright yellow lights and cheap Halloween decorations. They all had dressed up for the occasion, some more than others, but they were all having fun one way or another.

The newest member of the detective team seemed to be in very high spirits, more than usual. Him floating around and having small talk with everyone made it apparent. The hedgehog was a people person after all, it made sense that he'd be enthusiastic about parties, more justifiable by the fact that, in his time, he definitely didn't have the chance to involve himself in small gatherings. It was endearing seeing someone who was usually tired, as optimistic as he was, seemingly even more filled with joy than the children, who were suspiciously sitting in the ground secretly talking to each other.

After speaking with Vanilla for a while, Silver happily floated towards his closest companion in the team. The chameleon seemed to be watching over the not so grandiose amount of food they had gathered in a small table. It wasn't much, but it was enough if nobody got too hungry. He was mostly taking care of a bowl full of candy though. Knowing how mischievous the kids could be, Vector asked him to make sure they weren't stuffing themselves with huge amounts of sugar at such late hours. Once he noticed the other arriving next to him, he turned around and smiled at him casually.

“Are you having fun?” He asked, pretending he hadn't been secretly looking at the hedgehog the whole time. The other responded with an honest laugh. Pure happiness, his smile brighter than ever, at least in his eyes.

“Yeah! It's great! I'm so grateful to Amy for helping me with this too!” He expressed, moving a little to show off his vampire cape just to face his friend again.

“It suits you very well.” His honest words made the other laugh again, bashfully this time, a hand going to scratch the quills behind his head.

“Heh, thanks. You look good too.”

Espio knew he was referring to his costume, but that didn't stop his heart from beating faster for a bit. It wasn't the first time his silvery companion said something like that with how blunt he was with whatever was in his mind. He remained composed, making sure no color rushed to his face this time.

“I'm glad you are enjoying yourself.”

“Well, of course! This is fun! There's no danger, everything is nice. Everyone seems so happy…” A bit of silence surrounded them while Silver looked at all his friends with a melancholic smile. A look in his eyes far too common. An expression the other wanted to take away from him more and more. Before he could say anything, the hedgehog turned back to look at him with a big grin again, making a gesture with his hands like he was pretending to be intimidating. “And I get to be a scary monster!” Both chuckled softly at that, the ambience between them lighthearted again.

“I'm sure everyone is thankful for you being here. I am too.”

“That's… Nice.” His laugh was a bit shy again, eyes dancing around, admiring everything and everyone in a quick motion. “I like being here with everyone.” Bright golden spheres landed on the chameleon again, shining with content and deeper feelings both of them were somewhat new to. “I really like being with you.”

The silence this time was not a sad one, but a comfortable yet exciting one. Yellow eyes stared at gold and silver, stuck, like ignoring the view in front of him would end his world. And maybe it would. The constant thought of the hedgehog simply disappearing before him was a present fear in his mind. But, at the same time, that made him appreciate the moments they had, either laughing with everyone else, with his team, or just like now, just them quietly being with each other, feeling like only the two were present, time not moving, time no longer being a concern.

He was too bright. He was too enticing. He made him want to be closer. And closer…

Suddenly, the chameleon turned around, stopping the children trying to be sneaky, who had just let out a war cry when they were in front of him. He grabbed Charmy with his tail and made a halt gesture with his hand to stop Cream and Cheese, who were too nice to disobey, even if they had agreed to take the candy from him.

“I thought we agreed you two would wait after having dinner.” He said with the stern voice of an older brother.

Charmy had been trying to get away, and even if he had the strength to fly both of them until the other let him go, he just gave up. Maybe he just realized how boring it would be arguing with someone who was just as stubborn as him, or didn't want to go through another long lecture. Cream and Cheese simply looked at the ground slightly ashamed for their actions, more sad about not being successful and being caught than anything.

“We know. We're sorry.” Both of them said, a tinge of frustration in their voices.

Espio was about to lecture them, just as Charmy feared, when he noticed his other hand felt too light. He realized he didn't have the sweets anymore and quickly looked behind him again.

And there was Silver, casually floating, arms behind his head, legs crossed, a bowl of candy floating next to him and a lollipop in his mouth. A mischievous expression appeared in his face as he looked at his friend and the kids who were snickering with childish malice and joy.

He should've realized sooner he had to be careful of 3 and not just 2.

[1000roughdrafts]

Just Another Day

Summary: Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post

Warnings: some language (like 2-3 words), light mentions of angst, but mostly fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Not betad, all mistakes are my own 😊 and bear with me, I’m a little rusty 🥰 happy love day 🥰

Valentine's Day has never really been a favorite of mine, let alone anything I'd consider more than 'just a day'. Hell, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, even birthdays are all just 'another day' for me. It's kind of difficult not to harbor ill feelings about them after constantly being let down by the people in my life, one broken promise after another.

Dean and Sam have kept every promise they've made, though. In fact, they're managing to break down my walls bit by bit from stolen candy on Halloween to a fried chicken meal with beer on Thanksgiving all while living in cheap motels chasing monsters. When I told them this morning that I just wanted to hunt as usual for the day, I couldn't help but to feel a tad disappointed that they agreed. Bit by bit, I'm breaking my own rules about not getting my hopes up on holidays.

This is our first Valentine's Day as a couple, and I've known Dean long enough to know that chocolate and flowers aren't exactly his style. But I can count on him to bring me a piece of pie "just because" or he'll clean my weapons for me after a particularly grueling hunt because he knows all I want to do is shower and get in bed.

After a long day of exorcising demons, we are on the road again. Burnin' For You by Blue Oyster Cult plays low on the radio, but the clattering of rain on the roof has my full attention. Sam loudly rifles through the papers in his lap with one hand, flashlight held in the other, hesitant to ever let himself relax. Dean's eyes flicker between the road and the rear-view mirror to periodically check on me.

"Hey, you seem off today, you okay?" Dean asks, picking up on my vacant eyes and slight frown.

I suck in a breath, inhaling the scent of the Black Ice air freshener and a hint of stale whiskey, "yeah," I say curtly, keeping my eyes on the trees swaying in the wind as we drive past, lit only by the moon above us. The wind howls against the windows of the Impala, sneaking in and covering my skin with goosebumps.

His face scrunches a bit and he nods before the tick of the blinker signals that he's turning off the highway. I feel a twinge of discomfort knowing we're only minutes away from the motel now. As much as I hate the numbness I feel in my butt and thighs, there is something meditative about being a passenger on a long drive.

We pass an abandoned gas station before I can see the dim lights of the Wandering Inn. Dean parks us by the front desk, leaving the Impala to run with a soft purr as he gets us a key to a room. Neither Sam nor I take our time getting the bags together, so by the time Dean is back out and we find a parking spot near the room, we're ready to head in.

The door whines as Dean pushes it open, immediately palming the peeling wall for a light switch. The overhead light flickers a few times before settling on a weak glow, and before I can even shut the door behind us, the smell of burnt dust and old pledge assaults my nose. I glance around the small room. The musky yellow walls seem to make it feel even smaller, somehow.

Dean turns to me with outstretched arms and a smile, asking for my bags. I dutifully and sleepily hand them over, not realizing the weight they bared until the relief of their absence waves over me. Dean nods his head towards the bathroom, "ladies first on a shower," he says softly. His boots click on the tile as he walks over to toss our bags onto the bed, plopping down next to them to remove his boots.

In a few short strides I head over to grab my bag for the bathroom, stopping in front of him to plant a kiss on his forehead. His eyes, droopy and half-closed, look up at me in a smile. He places his hands my back, thumbs rubbing circles on my skin as he pulls me in for a kiss.

"Thanks for first shower, Dean," I say, letting my hands rest on his shoulders.

His eyebrows rise and fall before he says, "yeah, well, by the looks of it, you need it more than we do tonight."

My ear to ear smile is real, but I fake a laugh before pulling away. "Whatever," I say, but I slowly lose my smile on the way to my shower. Dean's ability to pick up on even the most subtle of changes in me are a testament to how great of a hunter he is, and even greater boyfriend. How he can't pick up on how torn I'm feeling about this wretched day I've no idea. What conflicts me further is that I know it's my responsibility to share these feelings with him. Dean may have an attention to detail I haven't seen in a partner in, well, ever, but he's not a mind reader.

The tile of the bathroom is cold under my feet, so I remove my shirt to stand on it while I wait for the water to heat up. I hear the guys shuffling and moving things in the room, keeping their voices hush, but I'm too tired to give a shit. Waving a hand under the water I decide that it's the perfect temperature and remove the rest of my clothes to get in.

I don't even realize how tense I am until the water hits my shoulders, nearly forcing me to relax under it. My body's reflexes take over and I go into autopilot as I think about today and Valentine's Day is already almost over, but we did nothing… at my request. I roll my eyes at myself, brushing my teeth while the conditioner sits in my hair. The scent of fruit and mint fill the room among the steam. When I rinse my hair, I imagine I'm rinsing the day away.

The mirror is completely fogged up by the time I get out. With slightly damp skin, and a towel wrapped around my head, I struggle to get my clothes on, and it frustrates me.

I open the door and allow the steam to pour into our room, and I'm immediately hit with a surprising smell. It's almost as if someone is roasting marshmallows in our motel room. I take a small, careful step and peek just my head out, eyes zeroing in on the lit candles on the table.

My eyes skip over to Dean who sits on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees, a single flower in one hand, and a mix-tape in the other. Beneath his feet is a trail of rose petals leading to the door of the bathroom. He keeps his eyes on me, a smile peaking through his lips as he awaits my next move.

Sam's eyes and mine meet before he offers an awkward smile and shuffles a few things around on his bed. He grabs his shower bag, and I take a few steps towards Dean to allow him to enter the bathroom. Dean and I are both silent until the door closes behind Sam.

"What is all this, Dean?" I asks, astonished. Moldy motel room, or 5 star suite, never in my life has anyone laid out rose petals for me. I feel my heart racing like it's ready to burst right out of my chest.

Dean smiles, standing to hand me the flower with a kiss on my cheek. My skin is warm where his lips just were, and he reaches to take my hand, guiding me to sit on our bed.

He notices my eyes glance down at the mix tape before jumping back up to his. "I've been working on this for a few weeks now," he says, shaking the tape in his hand before handing it to me.

My hand shakes when I grab it, and I flip it to see "To my Y/N/N, Love Dean," scribbled on the front. My cheeks grow hot again, but this time with embarrassment that I'd spent the whole day thinking about myself, when here's Dean blowing expectations right out of the water.

"It's, uh, all the songs that remind me of you," he says softly, and I notice the scent of my favorite candle as the flame burns. My head spins.

"I don't know what to say, Dean," I start, and he just smiles, caressing my hand with his calloused fingers, "I mean, thank you. This is the kindest, most loving thing anyone has ever done for me," I say, tears welling in my eyes.

It's overwhelming to think a personal could love someone so much that amidst hunting Heaven, Hell and everything in between he could find the time to make this moment so special.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't cry," he says, arms wrapping around me, pulling me in for a tight hug.

"I'm not crying, Dean," I contest, but I nuzzle my face into his soft, comforting shirt, allowing my arms to wrap around his torso, and under the warmth of his jacket.

I soak in the smell of his sandalwood cologne and tighten my arms around him. Kissing his chest, I mutter another "thank you" before lifting my head to look him in the eyes. He brings his hand to either side of my face, eyes looking back and forth between mine, "you're very welcome," he says, kissing me with a tenderness that takes my breath away, and I realize that it's moments like these that I want to fill my heaven with.

~~~~

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[foxglovefaun]

happy fuckin valentine's day but forget that corporate shit let's eat at home, bust out the soft blanket, pop in a DVD, and get some cheap-ass candy on the 15th anyway love u bye

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Return To October City For Me

a gift for my friend <3 many happy birthdays to you!

Rated Mature | Warnings: None (if you see spector instead of specter you dont)

The music box plays its broken song, over and over, the dealmaker watches, then closes it only to open it again, restarting the song. Specter has been waiting all year, and he is starting to think you lied to him about visiting.

Every once a year, you promised to visit him. You vowed to endure and follow the untaken path in the darkness. Follow the path to October City, and find yourself unable to return to the light until dawn. Specter always fulfilled his promise to send you back to the world of the living.

The dealmaker, you met him the first time you wandered here lost as sheep without its shepherd. Your story was interesting, interesting enough for the dealmaker to strike a deal. You were cursed, cursed by someone close enough to have something of yours. It was a classic case of an emotionally charged spell— In this case, one made from grief. The price of grief creates spells when emotions forge powerful and irreversible curses, the consequences felt by both parties.

Spector found those rules were put there to make a witch consider their actions first一 Especially when it comes to life-altering spells like curses.

A curse to never find your way home, to wander, to never be able to find peace— An interesting curse he had to admit, and a very specific one too. You do not know what you did to deserve this or who hates you that much to create this curse. The dealmaker or Specter, offered to help you in your dire time of need— For a price.

At the time you foolishly had said you would do anything to go back home, you only wanted to go back to your normal life.

Curse breaking is neither simple nor easy nor cheap; the Spector made sure those three things were very cleverly worded. Your curse is considered a low-level curse, but the raw emotion fueling it makes it complex. You have no idea who or why someone would curse you— Genuinely— Which adds to the cost of your curse breaking.

Specter needs an assistant, a year and one day's worth of service will be enough payment.

What he does not tell you is how time flows differently here than in your world, a minor detail he did feel needed to be spoken about. You are the fool for trusting him一 And here he is foolishly trusting you to return to October City, to return to him, 

He pouts, hand ready to knock over the music box you restored for him during your time here. Should have never let you go, is a thought running through his head. The dealmaker gets up when the chime of the bell on the door alerts him of a customer.

“Welcome!” Coming out from the backroom ready to give his usual sales pitch. His eyes widen to see you; you walk into the shop with a gentle smile on your face.

“Hello, Specter.”

You are older now. In the world outside of October City, people age… You are getting older and the dealmaker fears he is going to lose you. Of course, you tell him you can die from anything, not only old age— Saying that did not make him feel any better.

“I told you I'll visit when the veil is thin,” Taking off your coat before hugging him. He hugs you back, squeezing you as he finally can hold you and feel how alive you are. “Haha, sorry I took so long. You know how these ghosts are when they see—”

He kisses you with all he has, even going as far as dipping you as if he and you were dancing. You wrap your arms around his neck, opening your mouth to let him taste you. You ate a piece of candy before coming here and he can taste you made it. Sweet and savory, your happiest memories are with him and the mischief he caused.

“Specter…” He only stopped kissing you to let you breathe, “Ah!” And start biting and kissing your neck, it has been too long and he needs to make sure more memories of him are your happiest moments. You grip the back of his tailored suit coat, your mute lover pulling and pushing you against the counter.

“Wait, oh, wait, the door!” You say between moans and trying hard not to fall apart so show, which might happen with the smirk he gives you as he grabs your crotch, rubbing it while your head tosses back. Legs parting wide, your cheeks burning, the half-wolf going on his knees between your legs.

It is not the first time he has taken you like this, it was during your time of service he had eaten you out while you were behind the counter and tending to a customer. You were a mess then as you are now.

The first day is always him tasting you, sinking himself into you, and making love until the next morning. The next day is mostly you both in bed, you talking about what you have been doing and him listening.

Your time is limited, it always is, and though you could stay here forever in the comfort of luxury with Specter, he knows you are going home.

A week. Every week of your birthday you visit him. He gets to have you for a week. The song on the music box is a reminder of your promise, you bought this for him as the tune reminded you of him. All those months away and you thought of him every day…

Specter places a ring on your finger, your ring finger on your left hand, his face showing how he does not want you to leave.

He never talks unless he must, when he does speak it is with purpose and charm.

“Specter…” You look at the ring as it does not escape your notice of the symbolism of it, “I love you.” Because you do so much, every day you miss him. You glance at the spot where you recreate the ritual to leave October City, the last October Queen statue surrounded by candles. You can leave again… Go home before your world's time changes… Go back to the lonely boring days and nights.

Specter holds you as tight as he can to commit this feeling to memory to last another few long months. The echo of bells as midnight strikes, the candles light up ready to start the ritual to return home.

You still are holding him.

[karasukarei]

Daily questions 10 - Tomiyama Choji

For all other translations, see this post!

Tomiyama's answers:

If you have 500 yen, how would you use it? - I'd buy lots of candy! (t/n: the candy he refers to here is dagashi, which is very cheap candy children buy; think stuff along the lines of candy corn, chocolate coins, etc.)

If you could travel to somewhere in Japan for a holiday, where would you go? - Mt Fuji! To climb the highest mountain! (t/n: there were some comments on twitter talking about how he can reach the top at one shot, which is very tough. Normal people would start climbing on day one, stay at a rest house overnight halfway up, then get up at 4am or something the next day to reach the summit by sunrise)

What's your favourite condiment? - Ketchup! Because it's sweet and salty! (t/n: he'll be good friends with Sakura)

What do you think about before you sleep? - Eh? Think? I'm asleep so I don't know! (t/n: Idk why but I find this so precious ;-;)

What would you eat for your last meal? - I want to eat lots of dagashi until I'm completely stuffed! (t/n: see translator's note at Q1 about dagashi)

Recently, was there something that made you a little happy? - I picked up 100 yen!

If someone of the opposite gender asks you for your contact number, what would you do? - Ok, sure! Here it is! By the way, who are you? (t/n: NO TOMIYAMA YOU DO NOT DO FIRST THEN ASK QUESTIONS LATER)

I was ambivalent towards Tomiyama at first (even after the manga), but after going through his answers to these questions I can really see why Togame and Shishitouren like him so much ;-; He's literally a ray of sunshine ;-; I'm really happy the anime team gave us so much extra content, it lends so much more depth to the characters beyond the main story in the manga.