#might post my costume if it turns out well?

[red-eft]

pros of renfaire costume: lots of layers, fun to put together and wear around

cons of renfaire costume: lots of layers......

[briar--rising]

I will say that if I'm still around tomorrow we're going to have to figure out some quick adjustments to our Halloween costume. I'm willing to do a lot of things for Allora and the kids, but wearing a flower crown and fairy wings is not one of them.

[bunnys-kisses]

For your halloween special, can i have all dressed chips, with a espresso Martini by max verstappen plssss

halloween menu - bakery menu

spooky scary post-halloween submission! thank you so much for the request. it has been fun to write this one, so i hope that you love it. i know that the spooky season is over, but we can probably have a little more halloween magic until christmas, haha!

all-dressed chips: "i'd propose right now. but not while you're wearing this." + espresso martini: dom!character served by max verstappen (formula one)

tags: smut/pwp, dom & mad!max, driver!reader, established relationship, car sex (sort of), fingering/clit teasing & oral sex (reader receives)

"you can't laugh at this." you said as you zipped up the driver's suit to your neck. you looked in the mirror before you shushed your teammate. you turned in the mirror a little, "oh he's gonna freak when he sees this."

daniel laughed into his fist and you shushed your teammate before you turned to him and away from the mirror. the driving suit was so much baggier than yours. especially in the shoulders and thighs. you knew that if the team found out about this, they would lose it.

they were very particular with where the drive suit of the great max verstappen was at all times. and currently it was on your body as you and your teammate rushed to his car before you ended up at a halloween party in austin.

to be a couple on two separate teams often led to a flurry of discussions and rumors. you had about four pregnancy rumors happen oven the course of the season. that didn't mention the three cheating rumors (that was your cousin that photo) or the five secret wedding rumors. you hated those ones the most because they always made it seem like your wedding choices were tacky.

but tonight, you were thankful there were no press members lurking around the house that was rented out by the mclaren team for the austin weekend. and since it was close enough to halloween, that meant the drivers and others could have a party. and while it wasn't a dress up party, you took it upon yourself to have the best costume.

your teammate, daniel, was dressed a cowboy. you even remarked, 'you might give me a run for my money tonight." as you looked in the mirror to see if your lip gloss was ended up above your lip. he laughed and the two of you got out of the parking lot before the gate to the track was closed.

-

at the house, you spotted max waiting outside with his arms crossed and leaned up against the gate. when he saw you get out of the car, he was instantly over to you. it wasn't until he got closer that he noticed that you were wearing his driver suit.

he laughed, "you look so amazing." he scooped you up in his arms and looked at you with a smile, "very authentic."

you giggled, "it's a red bull original."

max looked at you, "i..is that my suit?"

you nodded, "yeah, well worn today and everything." you felt max hold onto you a little tighter and you got your hands into the front of his t-shirt. you looked at him, "i wanted to be the best dressed."

he swallowed then laughed, "well, i think it's a mission accomplished." he could feel the swirl in his gut.

daniel piped up after he locked the car doors, "what about me, max?" he laughed, "i think i kill it tonight too, mate." then winked at his former teammate.

max laughed, "why did i have a feeling that you were going as a cowboy tonight?" then ushered you into the house against his worst judgement. the back of his mind was calling for him to stuck you in the backseat and make the car rock.

so much was covered, but to know that you were in max's gear turned him on. so the entire night his gaze was on you, his hand on your lower back and when he could, his lips on yours. a night of partying ended with max driving you back to your hotel room.

"show me what's under it? got my fireproofs on too?" he asked. his hand was on the zipper and trying to get it down while you drove him. you helped him and he caught a glimpse of your bra underneath.

"i'd propose right now. but not while you're wearing this." he laughed, "and not when there's a risk i'll crash the car." he did however snake his hand between your legs, "fuck, you're so warm."

you moaned as he managed to get under your panties and rub against your clit. the sensation made you jolt and he laughed.

"aw c'mon, my love. you're always so calm on the track? what's the problem now? can't handle a little fun?" it didn't help that the speed he was driving left after shocks through your body.

you were both on quiet back end roads in texas. no one around for a good while, so of course max could rev the engine a little bit while he stimulated your clit. the strength of a formula one driver was concentration and the ability to calculate many things at once.

for example max's rough thumb was against your clit, moving in motions that were making you a total mess in the car. his eyes were on the road and he was going over the speed limit so he could almost stimulate your achy sex. all while not crashing the car.

they could give him the wdc for that feat alone.

your heart was racing in your ears and your pussy soaked through your cotton panties. max knew if he smelled his suit the next morning, it was going to reek like your achy cunt. and he wouldn't mind racing like that.

"shit, max. ah." you groaned and you shifted your hips to get a better feeling of his rough fingers. you swallowed back a particularly loud moan to escape from your lips. you prayed, hoped that no one would find out about this. you didn't need that on the front pages.

"you sound so pretty when you're needy." he purred, "i love how you sound. i feel like i should spank you for stealing my suit, but stealing it is quite the feat i have to say. mmmm, pretty thing."

his words sent shocked through you as you felt the blush bloom in your cheeks with an erotic want. there was something about max verstappen that drove you insane.

eventually he pulled his fingers away from your soaked sex and licked the bit of wetness off his thumb and knuckle. he groaned a little before he pulled into a nearby closed gas station parking lot.

"get in the backseat." he said before he watched you scramble to the back and he followed after. he almost hit his head against the top of the sports car he was driving. you chest was heavy in the low light of the parking lot.

max tugged at the suit, almost ripping the zipper to get access to your soaked cunt. he pushed the crotch of the cotton panties to get access to your sex. you could feel everything tight as he was pulled, but max's tongue on your aching cunt made it all better.

his pace was messy with two of his fingers pushed inside of you for added pleasure. he was a messy eater when he ate you out and you weren't too sure how much time you'd have before someone drove by. the car rocked a little as he pleasured you.

"fuck, ah, max." you didn't know this would've given him such a response. but, you loved it. you loved how his tongue felt against your achy cunt. you had been thinking about him during the party because he was in your space so much.

he groaned against your pussy, your wetness was up to his nose and almost at his cheeks. he went all in when it came to oral sex, that was why it made it so easy for you to climax because of him.

you moaned a little louder and held onto his hair for a moment as you felt the climax wash over you. the feeling hit you like a ton of bricks and it made you hot all over. you felt the fire in your gut as he made you feel on cloud nine.

"oh my god." you panted heavily as he smirked against your soaked pussy before he looked up at you. you could see the glisten of your wetness across his face.

"i'm not done with you yet. let's see how durable this suit really is." he chuckled as you heard the unzip of his jeans.

-

being in red bull's head office the morning after a party was never a good thing. it was a situation most tried to avoid being. but as you sat with daniel and max across from horner and mekies wasn't a way to start the morning.

"can we at least get coffee." you groaned.

"no." horner replied.

apparently max's racing suit went missing last night. only to be found in your hotel room this morning. daniel was in the office for abetting in the theft. you wanted to die when christian showed the three of you the pictures of the stains on the suit. daniel hid his mouth behind his hand, to not make a very funny (yet very mean comment). you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes and prayed for a moment that you'd go blind.

"this will result in a fine and community service." which made the three of you groan. the media was going to have a field day with this one <3

[pomefioredove]

ace with, "I like my bed, but I'd rather be in yours." 😚🤌

HELP ME he's so cringe he'd 100% say something like this

summary: "I like my bed, but I'd rather be in yours" type of post: short fic characters: ace additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, secondhand embarrassment warning, random halloween(??) party for plot reasons, not proofread

Heartslabyul has never turned a guest away from a party.

Ace had become accustomed to it. There's always someone out of place at the table- the purple of a Pomefiore uniform or the green of a Diasomnia, pointed ears or catlike ones, tall, short, students Ace hadn't even seen passing in the halls.

And having a costume unbirthday didn't make recognizing anyone any easier. Why did they agree on this, again?

"What's this one?" he asks, accepting a tart dish from Trey.

The stressed upperclassmen adjusts his glasses. "Raspberry, I think- no, strawberry. I'm losing track,"

"Yeesh," Ace mutters, looking out the window to the grounds. There's more than three times the dorm out there.

"Mondays, amirite?"

Trey just sighs.

Ace carries the dish to one of the many tables set about the gardens.

This one is empty. He looks over his shoulder; Riddle is busy berating another first year for chewing with his mouth open. No one has noticed the fresh tart yet.

He might as well sneak a slice while he still can...

"Ace!"

Sevens. Ace flinches and the slice of tart slips right out of his grip.

Now he's going to have to clean that up, and without anyone noticing, too. Sigh.

"I know it's Halloween, but you shouldn't scare people like that," he says, turning to the source of the noise. "You-"

As soon as he sees you, his thoughts are cut short.

You're just some rando in a corny masquerade getup, but, damn, you're cute.

No way he's never seen you before- no, you've gotta be from another class. He'll have to pester Jack about it later...

"Oh, sorry," you say. The mask you're wearing makes it hard to read your expression, but he assumes you noticed the tart.

Your voice is vaguely familiar, but it's hard to hear with all the background noise, anyway.

Ace puts on his worst best smile. "Nah, it's fine. The vice housewarden is on full-time catering duty. No one will notice. So, you come here often?"

You snort. "Yeah, I guess I do. What's up with you?"

He got a laugh out of you. That's a good sign, right?

Now, time to go in for the kill.

Ace huffs, trying to act nonchalant. "What's up with me? Nothing much, just thinking about how I like my bed, but I'd rather be in yours,"

A long, terrible silence follows.

And then you laugh. And laugh, and laugh. Ace grimaces. It's hard to tell if it's a good laugh or a bad one from your voice alone.

"Hey, what're you two 'doin?" a much smaller voice asks.

Grim is standing between the two of you now, paws on his hips, mouth half-full of cookies from the other table.

"Buzz off, Grim. Can't you see I'm busy?" Ace murmurs.

Then, much to his horror, the mystery student across from him takes off their mask and scoops Grim up like a baby.

He could die right then and there.

"YOU?!"

"Me," you say.

Grim doesn't seem particularly interested in the context, though he is smirking at the dumb look on Ace's face.

"But you- you're-" he stammers, his face almost as red as his hair. "I didn't even- recognize you! How-"

It's hard to get such a reaction out of him, the "lady killer" he is, and he swears he can see a little smugness in your expression.

Ace groans. "You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know,"

You wipe your eyes, sighing merrily. "No, no, don't stop! I want to hear another! Do you want me to put the mask back on?"

"A real jerk!" he repeats, fleeing the scene before he can say something even dumber.

At least Trey will be happy to have another set of hands in the kitchen...

So much for romance. He huffs and takes a tart out of the oven.

Note to self: pick a better line to ask you out with.

[suugarbabe]

Mattheo Riddle with a precious little cheerleader, then he sees how small the skirt is. LITTLE CHEERLEADER MIGHT AS WELL GO IN A WHEELCHAIR AFTER GETTING ABSOLUTELY FUCKED.

I made this a halloween party, hope that's okay <3 it’s not full smut but I still think it’s cute???

[this post has nsfw content, 18+, MDNI, be aware of your internet consumption]

Pansy straightens her own costume out as she looks in the mirror and inspects any need for finishing touches, "What're you supposed to be again?" You're adjusting the bow atop your head as you look in the same mirror just over her shoulder, "I'm a cheerleader. It's a muggle thing, like...a supporter of their sports." Pansy passes you her lipgloss so you can add shine to yours as well, "And are all of these cheerleaders outfits as short and slutty as yours?"

You scoff slightly, turning to the side in the mirror. The pleats of the skirt fan out and the slightest view of your lace clad ass cheeks peek out. "Okay, from what I've been told they wear little shorts underneath; so yes I may have sluttied the outfit up a bit, but Matty is going to love it." You turn to face Pansy, "You're coming for my costume but what are you supposed to be?"

She was wearing a nearly see through silk white slip, a simple red lace bustier underneath. She grabs a small white that almost looks like that of a muggle sailor except it has a red plus sign on the side. After she charms it to stay still for the night she slides her wand back into the fastener on her thigh before pointing at her hat, "I'm a healer, duh." You shake your head in faux disbelief, "But my costume is the sluttier one."

Pansy all but ignores your comment with a roll of her eyes and an insistence that you both need to make your way downstairs. The drink table is your first destination, deciding that the longer it takes you to make contact with Mattheo the more worked up he'll be when he finally sees you. Making your way to the groups usual destination you're more than aware of the amount of male attention you're garnering.

And if you weren't actually aware of the stares, the look on Mattheo's face as you approached the group would've given away how truly sinful your costume appeared. Mattheo's eyes bore into you, an intensely hardened stare, the muscles of his jaw clenching tighter with each sway of your hips as you moved closer. On purpose you 'forgot' to say hello to Theo as you walked by him, earning a protest for your attention.

You turn around to face him with probably a little more force than necessary, the pleats of your skirt fanning out and giving the person sitting in the lounge chair behind you a full show. The unmistakable crunching of plastic is like music to your ears as Theo lifts you up in a hug, slightly shining you back and forth and surely giving Mattheo another brief show. As Theo sets your feet back on the ground you turn to your boyfriend.

Setting your drink down on the table next to him, you give a slight pout. Mattheo raises a brow as he takes another sip of his own drink, hardened demeanor unchanging as you climb into his lap on the lounge chair. Setting his drink next to yours he rests his hands on either arm rest as you wrap your arms lightly around his neck, "Do you like my costume, Matty?"

The slightest twitch to his lips gives way to a smirk and he adjusts slightly in his seat, allowing your knees to slip further down on either side of his hips so your core is now flush to his waist. "I'm not too sure I liked the show that practically anyone could have seen, but I think this skirt could serve a purpose." Mattheo kissed you then, suddenly and anything but soft. A hard and hungry kiss as he gripped your hips and pushed you back and forth ever so slightly.

The friction emits a soft moan from your throat and Mattheo takes every opportunity to shove his tongue down your throat. A hands finds solace at the top of your neck, turning your head to expose your jaw and throat to allow Mattheo to nip and bite at the skin there. "Fuck, Matty, s-slow down," your breathless at the immediate attention and the shots from your pregamming are lowering your inhibitions quickly.

Immediately Mattheo ceases his actions, turning instead to the group around you guys, "Who's up for a game?" You're confused by his sudden change in interest, but when everyone agrees the chairs and tables start being rearranged closer together. As you go to find another seat Mattheo's hands grip harshly on your hips. He pulls you back down to his lap, the breeze from the action making your skirt fan out across his legs.

Enzo asks if anyone needs refills before the game begins, nearly everyone agreeing but the two of you. Mattheo immediately attaches his mouth the the underside of your jaw again, your public displays of affection nothing new to your friend group. As those around you are busy setting up the game, the other part of the group replenishing drinks Mattheo snakes an arm around your waist lifting you up slightly. The other you can feel begins to maneuver the buckle of his trousers, as well at the button and zipper.

Mattheo's voice is rough in your ear, eliciting goosebumps on your neck and a rush to your core, "Here's what's going to happen, sweetheart," you can feel him release himself from his trousers, tapping the head of his cock against your centre, the action alone causing you to clench around nothing, wetness increasing. "You're going to be a very good girl for me, baby. Gonna keep me nice and warm in this pretty pussy while we play this game with out friend, okay?"

You give a nod, not trusting your voice as Mattheo pushes his tip gently in, one hand grasping roughly on your waist as you slowly become full of him. You clench around him involuntarily, just the feeling of him stretching you out so intense your body has a natural reaction to him. "Easy, pretty girl, don't go making a mess too soon." Mattheo adjusts your skirt accordingly, making sure it's fanned out around his lap an over your thighs just so, making everyone else non-the wiser as they come back and get settled on the sofas.

[wri0thesley]

I do not know if you still think about Lyney, but I cannot get the idea of Lyney and bondage out of my brain -

i might not POST about lyney very often but . . . oh i THINK abt him.... his celebrity status giving him easy access to whoever he wants, his fatui ties, his tricksy nature . . . he has so much potential i should write about him MORE

He's humming under his breath as he works, and you can feel his breath against your shoulder as one finger carefully tests the tension of the ropes he's currently affixing to your wrists.

"Is this really necessary, Mr Magician?" You ask, in a breathy voice, as one of his fingers slowly trails up the soft skin of your inner arm. Lyney chuckles.

"Incredibly," he assures you. "What kind of magic trick would it be if I didn't ensure that you can't interfere with my workings?"

"You still haven't told me exactly what magic trick you're going to be testing out," you point out, but by now Lyney is pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck and pulling back from you with a flourish. Although you cannot see the rope, you guess that he has just tied it in an ostentatious bow. Always a fan of the aesthetics of the show, this one. "What if it's dangerous?"

"You wound me," he tells you earnestly, coming back around and pressing one hand to his heart. The little costume you'd put on for this bit of roleplay - all matching reds and blacks of Lyney's own outfit, thigh-high stockings and a tiny little frill of a skirt - suddenly seems very warm. "I would never hurt my favourite beautiful assistant! Here. Would a flower convince you of my intentions?"

He does another flourish of his hand, all twisting wrists and clever fingers (you know firsthand just how clever those fingers are) and before you know it, he has produced a Rainbow Rose from seemingly out of nowhere. He gives you one of those smiles he is so well-known for; a flash of fang, the slightest upturn of his pretty mouth.

"Oh," he says, in faux concern. "But with your hands tied . . . Ah, well. It will look just as pretty here." He tucks it deftly behind your ear, and then steps back to admire his handiwork. You manage to turn your head just enough to see that he has indeed tied the ropes (red, naturally) around your wrists in a bow, just like a present. His fingers twitch.

"There," he hums, and before you can say anything else, Lyney has grasped you about the waist and used his surprisingly substantial strength to shift you, so that you're sitting more fully on the chair of the desk in his room. He slides to his knees with a wicked grin on his face, and nuzzles his cheek like a cat into the soft flesh that spills over top of your stockings.

"You still haven't told me what kind of magic trick this is . . ." You huff, but you're feeling a little insensible from where Lyney's face is; from the way he gives a soft kiss to that skin, to the fact you can feel the heated core of you wettening at the puff of his breath over it. The costume you're wearing is flimsy all over; Lyney smiles as he reaches a finger out and slowly draws a line between the plump lips of your labia, where the fabric is tight enough to cling to it.

"It's one specially for you," he promises. "I just need to make sure that your hands are occupied so that you don't rob me of my concentration, my love!" That finger slides up and down the fabric again, a fraction stronger. You whine, shifting on the table, as he presses over the place your clit is pulsing.

"L-Lyney--"

"Mm?" He smiles up at you, and his eyes are wicked, and the sight of him between your thighs makes you dizzy. "Just wait and see!" You hear a strange noise, like a snap, and suddenly there is warm breath directly on your sex with no fabric to separate you and Lyney's mouth. Lyney sighs in pleasure, his tongue pink and quick as a cat's as it darts out to lick his lips. "After all . . . a good magician never reveals his secrets."

[taintandviolent]

Trick r' Treat ; James March x reader!

summary: 🎃 slightly AU!Halloween fic! Reader unknowingly lives next door to the James March and in the few glimpses she's gotten of him, she's become enamoured with him. When she gets the idea to trick or treat at his home (despite being an adult), she thinks it's the perfect plan to get them introduced. Little does she know, James has a hunger that isn't satisfied by giving out candy to kiddies.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 2.5k! | mentions of affluency, James being very forward and persuasive, very vague insinuations of James wanting to kill reader, mild smut; arousal, kissing/making out, dry humping.

a/n: requested by @juliamaximoff! i chose a photo of the ever-lovely madge bellamy because she's always in the back of my mind as reader when i'm writing JPM fics, but of course, reader can look however you do! apologies, i'm a little rusty writing, but hope this isn't too dreadful. comments and reblogs are always appreciated! divider by @/strangergraphics

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

You’d never spoken to him, but you were enchanted with him.

Oh, it sounded dreadful when you said it like that. 

You never knew what he did, but he was well off. More so than your parents were, decidedly. You still lived with them, and thankfully too, because if you hadn’t, you might not have seen him. Nearly every morning, you’d see him leave for work, bright eyed and bushy tailed, always in a sharp suit, sometimes a bowler hat, sometimes without. Each time you saw him, he was so, so, so dreadfully handsome. Some nights, he wouldn’t come home and on those nights, you would sadly slink away from your window, defeated. 

Every glimpse of him was savored. 

Which is why the plan you had devised was perfect. Or nearly. You hadn’t quite worked out what you’d say to him once you were in front of him, but… you’d cross that bridge once you got to it. 

Once you’d dressed yourself, you grabbed the small pumpkin shaped pail and headed out the door. You’d rehearsed in your head a million times; trick or treat. That’s all you had to say once he opened the door – it was a fairly new concept, this trick or treating business, but it was wildly popular and had taken the country by storm. Mostly for children… but you weren’t going to focus on that. 

The short walk was enough to send a chill up your spine. A gust of wind blew its way around you, fluttering your delicate costume around your form. As you made it up to his door, you gripped the knocker, banging it against its plaque three times. You withdrew your hand, and dropped it down next to your side. 

Trick or treat.

After a few moments, the door opened easily, revealing that same sharply dressed man. He looked like he did when he was leaving for work; dressed to the nines in his pressed suit. He held a pipe in his right hand, which he brought to his mouth, puffing on it.

“Well,” he said, smoke flowing from his mouth as he looked carefully over your costume. You watched him as his eyes flitted over every detail, pleased with what he was seeing. You’d chosen it earlier that month, and were admittedly very proud of it. It was a butterfly; with sequined wings attached to your wrists, while a sequined bodice hugged you tightly. Long, graceful pieces of chiffon flowed from the bottom of the bodice, accentuating your figure even more. “I expected children tonight… but you…” 

He paused, puffing on his pipe again. He exhaled, and held his arms out, almost theatrically. 

“My dear, you are ravishing!” he exclaimed, his dark eyes wide. 

Here it was. The moment you hadn’t planned for. You were in front of him, and now? You swallowed back your nerves, hiding any indication that you were unsure of yourself and thrust your small jack-o-lantern forward. With a demure smile, you meekly said: “Trick or treat?” 

Immediately, he reached forward, taking hold of one of your wrists. He tugged on it with such power that your grip broke free from the handle and turned your delicate hand over in his large one, softly running the pad of his middle finger along your palm. It sent a tingling sensation up the length of your arm, which instinctively jerked, but he held you fast. 

Your stomach was in knots. And butterflies, with much stronger wings than your own, hammered around in your ribcage. From afar, you’d been enchanted but up close, you were ardently, and  wholeheartedly obsessed. His eyes were like circles of coal, black as the night above you, but somehow, pulled you in a way you’d never experienced before. Neither of you said anything for a moment, as if you both were savoring the silence, and taking lungfuls of each other’s existence.    

“Perhaps… you desire a treat of a different kind. Something sweeter.” 

You felt your cheeks warm at his words. 

“Please,” he said, tugging you in a little further. You nearly lost your footing on the edge of his threshold, but regained composure, and took a single step towards him. Sensing some apprehension, he smiled warmly… invitingly, and quickly stepped to your side. 

“My name is James March. I own a hotel downtown.” He said, as he lured you deeper and deeper into his lavish home, as if the information would soothe your mind that he was a good man. He wasn’t, but that was none of your concern.  “Perhaps you’ve heard of it? The Hotel Cortez.” 

You let out a tiny gasp. You had, of course. Anyone who lived in Los Angeles had heard of the luxurious new hotel that had opened up on South Olive Avenue – and here you were, in his home. Your mother would be proud. Wouldn’t she? 

Your head pivoted from side to side as he guided you inside, taking in the beautifully designed house. It was art-deco, and elaborate in decor. But pitch black in all the corners. It was darker than you liked, and the darkness loomed from all the corridors, inviting you deeper with lengthy, unseen fingers.

You shivered and turned your attention back to him. His, seemingly, had never left yours. You weren’t even sure he’d blinked. 

“Surely, you’re hosting a Halloween party at the hotel?” 

“That was last night, my little butterfly. Devil’s Night is my night for celebrating.”

The comment unsettled you, though you couldn’t pinpoint why. You suspected it was because he’d called you his little butterfly and that was much more of an interesting thing to focus on. 

You smiled softly. 

He led you into a drawing room of sorts, a large room with a massive fireplace and windows that looked out onto the yard. The fireplace wasn’t lit, but the few wall sconces were, casting eerie, long shadows onto the floor. After only a few seconds, James’ hands seemed to crawl up your arms and around your back. He pulled you quickly towards him, compressing your body against his. You were toe to toe with him then, and the sensation thrilled you. 

James panted, as though he’d just run a mile. He hadn’t, but the feeling of being close to you was enough to get his systems running. You stood stock still, still clutching your Halloween pail in your hand. His arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you lightly a few times. As if on cue, your body melted into his, muscles loosening against his grip. 

“You’ll have to forgive my… ravenous demeanor. I’m taken by your luminous beauty. Captivated by it! Enamored with it!”

You shivered in his clutches, feeling his body pressing tight against yours. His arms wound around you more firmly, like a snake. You hadn’t expected the interaction to go this way, but you weren’t complaining. Not in the slightest. 

“I live across from you, you know.” You said abruptly, looking up into his inky hues. 

“Do you?”

“Mhm,” you say, nuzzling your cheek against his chest. Your free hand floated up, resting on his chest next to your face. “I do.” 

“And you’ve never come to introduce yourself before this spectacular holiday? My, what manners.” 

His hand came up from your arm to your chin, where he carefully lifted it. You yielded to his power, and your eyelids drooped shut as his lips pressed against yours. His moustache tickled your top lip, but the feeling was oh so divine – the way he kissed you oozed control, opulence and promises of what was to come. 

He kissed you like that for so long that you had to pull away, gasping for air. If you were being honest with yourself, it almost frightened you – the way he kissed you. It frightened you how it made you feel, and how hungrily he devoured you, without so much as a word. You searched his eyes, desperately.

“Don’t you speak to me about manners. Not after a kiss like that….” 

He hummed low in satisfaction and pulled you back in again, this time, allowing his tongue to sweep across your bottom lip, hungrily tasting your essence. You shuddered again, unable to control the physical reaction your body had. You’d been kissed only a handful of times, but never like he kissed you. It was an all-consuming feeling, one that you felt pooling deep in your stomach. There was an undeniable warmth on your rouged cheeks and between your legs. He kissed you deeper, the wet muscle swirling with yours. 

He paused for only a moment, to lead you to the large sofa that sat adjacent to the fireplace. After urging you down onto  it, he joined you, sitting next to you. Then, carefully, he untied the ribbons from your wrists, allowing the wings to fall down your back. His hands trailed up the beaded bodice, fingers raking over the smooth beads and though it was impossible, you swore you could feel the warmth of his hands as they caressed your sides, ghosting over the ornate fabric. Nimbly, he clasped the zipper pull at your side between his thumb and pointer finger, pulling it down abruptly. The dress fell apart underneath your arm, and to your surprised delight, his fingers slipped against your ribcage. 

Ahh, he thought. Warm flesh. There. So alive.  

“A treat, indeed…” He crooned. With an already lust-blown gaze, you looked into his eyes and leaned into him, taciturnly begging for another kiss. He obliged, of course, by capturing your face in his hands and lifting your head to his own. Again, his mouth found yours, but not before peppering kisses up along the length of your jaw, and nipping at the soft, supple flesh there. You yelped quietly, never having felt the teeth of a man on your skin. He was like a beast. A very well-dressed, lethally handsome beast. 

Those were the worst kind. 

“I didn’t really come here for candy, Mr. March…” 

“I know, my sweet. I know exactly what you came for.”

You felt your back lean against the curve of the sofa as he eased you back into it, his body weight atop yours. Your breath caught in your throat again, for the umpteenth time that night. You were incredulous over the fact that despite never having spoken to him, you were suddenly in his arms, underneath him while he assaulted you with hungry kisses, marking your neck and face. 

You felt a pressure against your inner thigh, a pressure you knew all too well. You hitched your hip up, pressing back against him and James responded by hissing sharply through his teeth. 

“Little devil,” he crooned low, looking into your eyes with a desperate glare. 

He urged himself against you again, clearly testing your boundaries. Much to his surprise, you had none. You spread your legs a little bit wider, allowing him in. He positioned his hips between yours and the throbbing pressure then pressed against your center. You felt it twitch against you, and hummed a happy, delirious little sound. His hips ground against yours, the outline of his cock heavy and straining against the fabric of his trousers. 

He thrust into you and you whined. It was a high pitched sound that echoed off the walls, and James seemed… over enamored by this. You watched as the gears turned. 

Her screams….  He thought, madly looking at you as your chest rose and fell so rhythmically. …her screams must be divine…. 

He thrust again, harder that time, and you gripped the back of his neck desperately, letting out another little vocalization. 

He thrust once more, and you felt your breasts bounce underneath your dress, moving with the robust animalism of his thrusts. Blistering heat pooled between your legs; you weren’t sure where his warmth ended and yours began. It didn’t matter. Your lids were heavy with arousal as you clamored, gripping the back of his neck to brace yourself for the oncoming thrusts.

But they didn’t come. He clenched his teeth, looking down at you with a curbed hunger. 

“Ah, I mustn’t.” he said suddenly. 

“You mustn’t?” You echoed, sounding somewhat dejected. 

“As much as I want to,” he started, stroking the side of your face. “I must exercise strength.”

You felt the muscles in your face turn down, clearly disheartened. 

“No…” you cooed, gripping the front of his suit jacket in your delicate hands. “You must. You don’t understand, I’ve spent months watching you… oh, you must forgive me for how that sounds, but it’s the truth! I have, I can see you from my bedroom window, and every morning you leave, I’m there, watching.” 

Wide-eyed, almost crazed. He looked enamored with the news; like he’d been told he’d won the lottery. “Is that so?” 

“Yes! Yes!” You tugged on his collar again, pulling him back into you. The small amount of space he’d interjected between you was unbearable. “Please… don’t stop.” 

“Awh,” he moaned, sympathetically. “How delicious.” 

“Mr. March –” 

“James.” 

“James, please.”

You urged your hips against his, sweeping them back and forth. He was hardened above you, so why on Earth did he want to stop? The question baffled you. 

His grip on the back of the sofa abandoned its post and immediately clamped onto your wrist. Hard. You winced slightly, though the arousal didn’t leave your core. 

“My little butterfly… You flew to my door, of all doors, and you’re so willing– but we must control ourselves.” He paused, and his dark irises drifted to the side, almost dreamily. 

Finally, after a few moments, he said " again. “Perhaps you’d like to visit me at the Hotel.” 

“The Hotel?” You questioned. A tempting invite, but one that you weren’t sure you cared for at the current moment. What was he going to do? Give you a grand tour? When he already had you right where he wanted you? 

“Yes, my Hotel.” 

“Why… yes, yes I would, but why can’t we – “ 

He shushed you, stuttering out shh’s. “All in due time.”

He stood up and that’s when you noticed the outline of his rock hard cock. You averted your gaze, feeling embarrassed by it, and looked up to him as he loomed over you. James made quick work of retying your ribbons and zipping up your dress. Wordlessly, he took your hand, lifted you from the sofa and guided you back to the front door, opened it and gently pushed you outside. 

“Friday, six o’clock. Six-one-seven south—”

“Olive street.” You said as you turned around, looking up at him as he stood in front of his door. “I know where it is. Everyone does, James.”

His ego swelled, much like his dick had. He was inexplicably pleased that you were so taken by him, but he had to restrain himself. At least until he had you in the confines of the Cortez. He nodded once, curtly. 

You hesitated a moment to see if he was going to change his mind. When he didn’t, you turned and headed back down the road you’d walked up only an hour ago. 

And he waited in the chill of the night, watching as you retreated into the darkness with a pleased grin across his face. 

And  he waited some more. 

He waited until the light went on in a window adjacent to his home. The silhouette of a woman appeared between the curtains, and James smiled, lifting his hand in a polite wave.

“I’ll have you, my little butterfly. Fret not.”

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part VI

Why hello there! I am finally back with an Eepy Boi update!! Sorry it took me so long to get around to posting this, between the holidays and my work schedule being all over the place and a heap of other junk it took me a bit, lol. We're taking a little jump back? Forward? In time this chapter, the Fall Festival is finally upon us... Maybe a little bit of tension starts to occur? This is going to be a very fun chapter hehe. Thank all of you so so much for your continued support during my hiatus, I see every single note, reblog, and kudos on this fic, I read every single comment I get, all of you are absolutely wonderful, again, thank you. If you would like to be added to my tag list for this fic, please let me know! If you ever want to come be crazy over the Sleep Token boys with me, shoot me an ask or a message! Now onto the good stuff, I hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: None, fluff, not proofread

My Masterlist! ~ A03 Link!

Part V - Part VII

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“Absolutely not.” Vessel responds blankly as he flips through one of the magazines by the register.

“Ves, come on.” You groan. “It's one night.”

“Yeah, one night with a whole group of people that want to run us out of town.” He retaliates in the same bored tone as he turns another page.

“Everyone's going to be wearing costumes, no one will know it's you.” You offer as you start bagging his purchase.

“They've seen pictures of us, love.”

“What? Those blurry, grainy sasquatch looking photos from the paper?” You sigh, handing him the bags. “Listen, I know you're worried. I know you just want to keep everyone safe, but you hiding yourselves away is only going to make people more suspicious.” You could feel his eyes studying your face.

“I get the slightest feeling that something is wrong we leave, do we have a deal?” He sticks out his hand to you, you clap your own into his without hesitation, giving it a firm shake. “I agree that people might be more comfortable with us being in town if we can exist in the same space without an issue… I just hope you're right about this.” 

“I'll be right by your side the whole time.” You exchange a soft smile.

“Are you closing early that day?” He asks.

“Of course, I have to get into costume myself.” You giggle. “I'll be closing at noon that day, but I can always reopen if you guys want to stock up afterwards.” You offer.

“It’s not that, I wouldn't want to trouble you.” He chuckles. “I was thinking maybe we could meet here before the festival.” 

“I'd like that.” 

“Then it's a date.” He bows his head slightly in dismissal before pushing out the door.

The next day the store was abuzz with excited children picking out glow sticks, mother's buying ingredients for their bake sale items, and last minute costume necessities for all the town's residents. “Miss (Y/N)!” You can't help but smile as a young boy with messy brown hair and a gapped tooth smile rushes up to the counter.

“Daclan, she's busy-” his mother starts, a bubbly school teacher you had gotten to know quite well since she had moved to town.

“Don't worry about it, Siobhan.” You chuckle, pulling the bucket of candy out from behind the counter and discreetly offering it to him. You lean down slightly, “if you don't tell the other kids I'll let you take two.” You whisper with a wink. He shoves his hand into the bucket before quickly and triumphantly retrieving his candy.

“Miss (Y/N), are you coming to the Fall festival?” He asks excitedly.

“Of course I am, I wouldn't miss it for the world.” You smile. “What's your costume going to be this year?” He starts rambling on about his skeleton costume as you ring the two of them up.

“Woah! Mom, look at him!” Your attention flashes over to the door to see Vessel frozen in place as every pair of eyes in the store land on him. As quickly as he caught their attention it was gone, the bustling energy returning once more as everyone continued their shopping. You motion him closer with a wave of your hand. Declan stared up at the large masked man in amazement. “What are you supposed to be?”

Vessel gives you the briefest of looks, not exactly sure how to respond at first. But, seeing the boy's bright smile and lack of fear, it warmed his heart. He leans down, resting his elbows on the counter to bring himself closer to eye level. “The Grim Reaper, pretty scary, right?” He says with a grin.

“Awesome!” Declan exclaims in response. “Mom, can we make a costume like his next year?” Vessel chuckles at the young boy’s excitement.

“Sure thing, honey.” She ruffles Declan’s hair. “Come on, let’s let Miss (Y/N) close up so she can get ready.” You exchange goodbye’s with her, Declan telling you that he hopes you get to see his costume before hurrying out the door.

“So far so good.” You remark as you lean against the counter, you and Vessel shifting to more easily face each other. “I promise tonight will be fun.” You reach out, grabbing his shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Well, if you talk so highly about this festival, I can't see any harm in giving it a shot.” You wait for your last few customers to file out of the store before locking up.

“Where's everyone else?” You ask, looking out in the empty lot for their truck.

“They're in back, I hope you don't mind.”

“Not at all.” You click off your open sign with a smile, motioning with a nod for Vessel to follow you out the front door. Your keys jingled in your hand as you struggled with the lock. “You'd think after all this time I wouldn't mess this up.” You sigh. The front door had a tendency to not shut fully unless things were maneuvered a certain way; the keys had to be slid into the lock a certain way, you had to push the door fully shut with your shoulder, you felt your cheeks start to burn as you struggled with something so simple in Vessel’s presence.

“Mind if I give it a try?” He offers quietly. You shuffle out of his way, the heat of his body noticeable against yours as he slid a little too close behind you. He jiggles the key slightly, slamming his shoulder into the glass pane’s metal frame, managing to slide the deadbolt into place. He pulls on the handle a couple times, making sure it's fully secure, before turning to you with a proud smile. “There, that should do it. He follows you out back, the other three members of the usual group lounging in the cab of the truck. IV was the first to notice you, perking up in his seat when his eyes landed on your approaching form. He nudges II, who looks up immediately from the book he was reading at the mention of your name.

“Where's your costume?” III asks in mock annoyance. He hops down from his place situated in the bed of the truck, his long strides allowing him to approach you quickly and pull you into his arms. He pulls back slightly, his blue eyes finding yours and making you freeze under their warm gaze. “Promise me I'll get you to myself for at least a little while tonight.” You could hear the smile he was wearing under his mask lace it's way through his words. Before you had a chance to respond the passenger door of the truck was kicked open, IV practically falling to the ground as he scrambled out. Your eyes darted up to three, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he gazed down at you. He gives you a quick wink before he steps back, satisfied with your flustered state. 

IV bounds up to you, excitedly taking your hands in his. “I can't wait to see your costume.” You jump slightly as a warm hand if placed against your lower back, you caught the sight of II in your peripheral.

“Well we have to let her go get changed into it first.” He chuckles. “It's good to see you, love.”

“Come on guys.” You chuckle, motioning for the four of them to follow you. “You can hang out upstairs while I get ready.”

It always made your heart swell every time they were all together in one place. The warm, me jovial energy that filled your apartment had you practically skipping to your room to get changed. You could hear the four of them continue to talk in the living room, just quiet enough to make it so you couldn't hear. You opened your closet, pulling out the neatly packaged bag that contained your costume. You shimmied into the tight dress, the stretchy fabric hugging all of your curves just right. Was this the most original costume in the world? Absolutely not. But, considering you were hoping to catch the attention of some masked men in particular this evening, you figured it wouldn't hurt to be a little cliche. You did your makeup as quickly as you could, a dark smokey eye that was finished off by you drawing a little black nose at the tip of your own with eyeliner. You grabbed the headband from your vanity, adjusting it perfectly atop your head before giving yourself one final once over in the mirror and heading back out to your waiting guests. The room fell silent the second you stepped through your door, four pairs of eyes locked on your small form. All of the sudden attention made you feel self conscious about your costume choice, maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. You wrapped your arms around your torso, your cheeks warming as you looked between the four. “Does it look ba-”

You didn't have a chance to finish your question before they were all scrambling out of their various seats towards you. All of them reassuring you that you looked fantastic and apologizing for staring. Your small group prepared to head out, III hung back to wait for you, his monstrous form taking up most of the doorway. You smile up at him as you straighten up from pulling on your shoes. “You look beautiful.” He compliments you softly, making your cheeks warm.

“Thank you.” He slips his hands into yours, his lips warm through his mask as he places a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“Ready to get going?” You nod, letting your hand reluctantly fall from his.

You piled into their truck, you were currently squished in between Vessel and II, III and IV curled up in the bed. “So, you're all excited about this festival, what are we even going to be doing?” Vessel asks suddenly, breaking the silence in the truck.

“Well,” you start, “there's going to be a lot of food, hay rides, a costume contest, lots of vendors from around the town, a few rides, a haunted house. It's nothing spectacular, but I’m hoping it will make you guys feel more at home here.” You noticed him and II exchange a look over your head. It wasn't long before you pulled into the bumpy dirt parking lot of the fair grounds. III vaulted out of the truck, his heavy boots landing on the ground with a loud thud. You notice II shove him back slightly as he holds out his hand to help you out of the truck. He gives your hand a soft squeeze before dropping it, you were quickly surrounded by the four men, all of you chatting happily as you made your way up to the festival. The four froze, taking in the chaotic sight before then. IV reached out, slipping his hand into yours.

“There's a lot of people, huh?” He asks, startling back slightly as a child rushes past his legs.

“The whole town’s probably going to show up.” You explain. You lean on closer to him, “you alright big guy? We can always turn around and go back to my place if this is too much.” You squeeze his hand reassuringly.

“I think I can handle it if you're by my side.” You noticed his features soften as he smiles under his mask. Your cheeks warm, your eyes darting to the ground in an attempt to try and hide your flustered expression.

“Where should we start?” III slips an arm around your shoulder, you instinctually lean into his side.

“You're the expert, love, lead the way.” Vessel shoots you a sharp grin. The group stayed close to your side, forming a buffer between you and the rest of the crowd. You wandered from booth to booth, letting the boy's childlike wonder take over as they excitedly showed you small trinkets and hand made gifts they stumbled across. The booth of old ladies selling goat milk soap cooed over how adorable all your costumes were, slipping sweets into all your hands as you made your way out. You paused in front of a vendor selling handmade jewelry, you jumped slightly as a hand came to rest on your waist.

“That would look very pretty on you.” II’s gentle voice meets your ears.

“You think so?” You ask through a flustered giggle. II asked to see the necklace in question, the beautifully wire wrapped crystal sparkling in the gradually setting sun. “It is really pretty.”

“How much?” He asks without hesitation. The young woman running the stand told him the price, to which II shocked you by immediately purchasing the necklace. He steps behind you, your hand raising to the unfamiliar weight as it falls around your neck. “A beautiful necklace for the most beautiful woman in the world.” His warm breath bounces off your cheek as he speaks, sending a shiver down your spine. You glance over your shoulder, your eyes immediately finding his bright blue ones.

“You know you didn't have to buy me anything.” You see the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles.

“What if I wanted to?” You didn't miss the teasing tone that had laced its way into his words. You traced a finger along the cool metal wire, fully turning yourself to face him. You glance up at him through your lashes, struggling to find the right words to say to thank him. You pushed yourself up onto your toes, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Well, I think that’s very sweet. Thank you, II.” You perk up at the sound of one of the others calling your name, III appearing at your side and slipping his hand into yours.

“Mind if I steal her from you?” He quickly asks II.

“Not at all.” He holds up his hands with a soft chuckle. “I'm sure I'll manage to snag her back later.” He winks at you, making your cheeks grow warm.

“What a shame,” III leans down to murmur quietly in your ear, “looks like I'm going to have to beat them off with a stick to get you to myself.”

“Careful, you're all going to make me think you have a crush on me or something.” You tease in response, shooting him a playful smile of your own.

“Only a pretty little thing like you could handle something like that.” He winks. “I want to make sure you eat before IV gets over excited and drags you off to the rides.” He jokes with a smile. He tucks you safely into his side, helping you avoid the bustling crowd that surrounded you.

“Are you having a good time?” You ask him softly. He glances down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles.

“Yeah, I’m spending time with you, of course I’m having a good time.” You let out a bashful giggle, quickly turning away as you feel your cheeks grow warm. 

As the evening carried on you couldn't help but notice II grow more fidgety with every passing hour, occasionally leaning into Vessel to whisper something only for the taller man to clap him on the shoulder and give him a reassuring grin. You were currently sat in a circle on the ground, finding a nice place in the open field to settle down and have some good together. You laughed as IV expertly stole a bite of your corn dog faster than you could comprehend what had happened. “What's your favorite ride?” II suddenly chimes in from his position sitting across from you.

“I'm personally a big fan of the haunted house, I think all the cheap jump scares are fun.” You respond with a laugh.

IV makes an intrigued noise. “We should all go on!”

“Only two people can ride together, unfortunately.”

“Well, how about you ride with me then?” II winks at you, making you blush.

“If you think you can handle it.” You tease in response. II stands, offering you his hand which you eagerly accept. He hoists you from the ground, pulling you into his side and slinging his arm across your shoulders. Vessel tagged along with IV, knowing it would be the only way to stop him from complaining about how he wanted to go too, III elected to stay back to save your spot. You all chatted happily as you stood in line, the slow creeping pace allowing them to see a little of what the ride had in store for them.

Brown metal buggies horribly painted to look like wood creaked along the track, bat shaped hood ornaments were barely recognizable after years of dings and chipped paint.A repeating track of over dramatic screams and ghoulish moaning looped from the speakers. “Next in line, please!” The ticket collector barked, IV and Vessel stepped up first, IV practically vibrating with excitement as he waited for the all clear to get on. II’s arm slid around your waist as you stepped forward, waiting patiently for the next cart to wheel itself into place. “Y’all have fun.” He waves you on. II helps you step into the cart, your body thudding against the thin, leather covered padding on the seat.

“You’re not going to get all scared on me now, are you?” You ask in a playful tone.

“Oh, don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll be right here to protect you.” He returns with a smirk. Your body lurched slightly as the buggy started to move. You were hit with a blast of cold air as you crept into the dark space, II’s arm wrapping around your shoulders, you found yourself instinctually snuggling into his side. You jumped slightly, giggling over being startled by the second air cannon you had rolled past.

You rolled past a growling werewolf, “Look, you can see the wires.” You nudge him slightly, pointing upwards.

“I personally think it adds to the experience.” He chuckles, you can’t help but laugh yourself. “You’re so beautiful.” You feel your breath freeze in your lungs at his compliment. You clung to him as something shot out of the darkness at you, it took you a moment to recognize the plastic skeleton’s limbs rattling at you. Your eyes are drawn back to him as you feel a warm hand slip over your cheek. “And you thought I was going to be the one getting scared.” He chuckles, his eyes flashing briefly to your lips. “Cute.” He fidgets with the edge of his mask for a moment, stretching the black fabric away from his neck. “Can- can I, um…” He swallows thickly, his confidence immediately crumbling as you continue to cling to him for comfort. “Can I kiss you?” You nodded, your wide eyes glimmering in the dim light. Without hesitation II lifts his mask, his lips slotting perfectly against your own. Your hand slides over his chest, you could feel his heart pounding under your palm. As quickly as the kiss had started it was over, II’s mask already neatly back in place by the time your eyes fluttered open. You hide your face against his neck, hoping he hadn’t noticed your flustered appearance. “That was nice.” He suddenly chimes in, making you giggle. You both reluctantly shuffle away from each other as the exit opens in front of you, squinting under the bright lights. II offers you his hand to help you from the cart, your eyes meeting his as he smiles. Your pinky wraps around his as he lets his hand slip out of your grasp. You hear him laugh softly at your actions, allowing your fingers to stay linked.

“That wasn’t even scary.” IV groans as you approach.

“I never said it was scary, I just said I liked it.” You respond. Vessel smiles down at you.

“How was riding with II?” He asks with a chuckle. Your cheeks immediately warm at the question.

“We had fun.” You get out through a nervous giggle. 

“Well, look who’s back.” You can’t help but smile at III’s cheerful tone. He hoists himself up from his position on the ground with a soft groan. “How was it beautiful?” Your eyes trailed after the people that were starting to gather in the open field.

“It was fun.” You felt a pang of guilt in your chest as you thought about kissing II. “See anything interesting while we were gone?”

“There’s a pretty good band playing over there.” He nods somewhere behind you. “Want to go check it out?”

“Sure.” You can’t help but smile as you feel the warmth of III’s hand brush against yours. The two of you lazily strolled in the direction of the music that floated through the air. A local folk group was currently performing under a gazebo, a small dance floor set up in front of the stage. You laughed as III took your hand and spun you around in time with the music, pulling you to him and swaying you in his arms.

“Do you know how to dance?” He asks with a grin.

“Not very well,” you giggle in response, “but I feel like with you that won’t matter too much.” You found yourself easily falling into a rhythm with him, every small misstep and teasing comment from him made you both crumble into fits of laughter. You both paused, looking up at the sky with the rest of the crowd as fireworks started going off overhead. III continues to hold you close, your arms sliding over his shoulders as the two of you watch the display. He fully encircles your waist with one arm, his hand sliding over your cheek, turning your face in order for his warm lips to find yours. Unlike the kiss with II, III took his time letting the sensation of kissing you sink in. You felt so small in his arms, the gentle dominance he had over the kiss allowing your body to fully relax into his embrace as your eyes fluttered shut. He traces a thumb along your jaw before hesitantly pulling away.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” He rushes to apologize, his body relaxing at the sight of the soft smile that had laced its way across your lips. Your eyes meet his, bright blue irises scanned your features with an adoration you had never seen. “I really like you.”

“III-”

“There you guys are!” He jolts back from you, the sudden lack of warmth making you shiver. “We’ve been looking all over the place for you!” It was IV, he jogged up to you. “Vessel wants to get going.”

You found yourself in the cab of the truck between Vessel and IV, II and III electing to sit in the bed for the ride back to your place. Your mind raced as you played over both men kissing you over and over again in your head. You didn’t know what to do. On one hand there was II, his silent charm and the undeniable intimacy the two of you have has drawn you in from the beginning. But then there was III, who made your heart race and dominated every aspect of your senses whenever you were with him. Who, despite his monstrous size, was always so gentle with you. You were absolutely torn. You rumbled into the store’s parking lot, Vessel parking the truck around back. You stood at the bottom of your stairs in a small circle. “Well, I hate to admit it, but that was pretty fun.” Vessel grins at you, there were murmurs of agreement amongst the group.

“Do you guys want to come up for a bit? There’s, um, there’s kind of something I need to talk to you about.” You fidget with your hands as you nervously put the statement out there. You were going to deal with feeling conflicted the only way you knew how, by facing the problem head on.

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[cheapshrimpysheep]

Happy Birthday - Leona Kingscholar

In celebration of Leona's birthday, here is a list of the things I've written with him. 🦁🥳

🦁 ONESIE PARTY

SUMMARY: Ace and Deuce, with a hint from Cater and financially support from Kalim, gave you a costume made Grim onesie. And decided to throw a surprise (to only you) onesie party at Ramshackle Dorm and invite all the students you knew. Onesies were the mandatory dress code!

🦁 BROOM FLYING TUTORING

SUMMARY: How would it be if they were assigned by Coach Vargas to help you with your flying lessons?

🦁 DANCE WITH ME

SUMMARY: The fairies left without the Fairy Gala decorations. Before the students take them down the next day, he sees an opportunity in the evening to invite you to meet him at the Botanical Garden.

🦁 POTIONOLOGY TUTORING

SUMMARY: How would it be if they were assigned by Professor Crewel to help you with your potionology lessons?

🦁 5 LOVE LANGUAGES

SUMMARY: A person doesn’t just have one love language, but these are the ones I think would be the most predominant in each of them. In Ortho’s case, at least, this is platonic.

🦁 FIRST DATE - SAVANACLAW

SUMMARY: What would your first date with him be like? I know first dates might not go so well, but let’s pretend these are different. ;)

🦁 SENDING LOVE - PART 1

SUMMARY: How do they react to seeing you make a heart with your hands for them in the classroom? And how do they reciprocate you?

🦁 SPRING OF CANATHUS (AKA: They’re Babies)

SUMMARY: They drank water that ended up turning them into babies. You were in charge of taking care of them while the rest of the students go looking for the antidote. What will they be like as babies?

🦁 MEANINGFUL KISS

SUMMARY: Would they make Public Displays of Affection? If not, are they protective instead? And how do they show you how much they truly love you through their kisses?

🦁 YOU WILL STOP THE WEDDING! - LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

SUMMARY: YOU were the one being kidnapped by Princess Eliza to marry her. How would he react and how would he save you? With the aggravation of he already having a crush on you.

REQUESTS:

🦁 TRICKED FOR A PICNIC

"I'd like to request a fluffy imagine in which Leona Kingscholar and G/N reader go out on a picnic with Cheka and Leona receives a kiss from them in the end."

🦁 “SURPRISE” PICNIC DATE

"(...) Reader asked Ruggie to help them prepare a picnic in the botanical garden wtih Leona's favourites foods. The thing is, Leona doesn't know. (...)”

🦁 SKIN PROBLEMS

"(He) has a s/o who starts randomly wearing gloves and hiding their hands from them due to getting really bad contact dermatitis from their work and not really able to do anything about it work wise”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[ruinofchimera]

Hi, I really like your posts, just out of curiosity, what do you think about Sirius Black?

Your curiosity could very well unintentionally land me in a Flynn Rider situation—cornered with a dozen sharp knives pointed at my throat, and for that, I’m more than ready to kiss you on both cheeks, anon. My recklessness be damned; let’s unfold this matter.

Sirius is an entitled arse, no two ways about it. He’s got that privileged, arrogant swagger of someone who’s always had things handed to him, even if he spent half his life rejecting it. He’s all rough edges and volatile intensity, the kind of man who’s survived more by luck and sheer defiance than by any real plan or sense of caution. Characters like him, they’ve got a way of sinking their claws in me, whether I want to or not. Because here’s the thing: Sirius’s short appearances in the books pack more emotional depth than some characters got in entire arcs. In just a few scenes, I saw a man constantly wrestling with his own worst instincts, fiercely loyal but destructively so, and trapped in a past he cannot—will not—let go of.

But let’s get something clear from the outset: I refuse to acknowledge the fever dream version of Sirius that certain corners of the internet have conjured up. You know, the one where he’s some delicate, ethereal twink who twirls his hair and faints at the sight of Lupin. What even is that? That’s not Sirius Black—that’s like trying to shove a feral dog into a tea party dress. It’s laughable, but more than that, it’s a betrayal of who he really is.

His bite, his bike, his relentless defiance—it’s not a costume or an aesthetic; it’s who he is, deep down to his bones. That raw, untamed energy, that edge—it’s woven into the very marrow of his bones. The Sirius Black from the books exuded raw masculinity. He was all bruised knuckles and fiery glares, a man who looked like he could break you in half but might settle for a well-placed punch instead. Unpolished, angry, and unapologetic to his last breath. Stripping all that away to turn him into some hysterical femboy with fluttering lashes doesn’t just miss the point—it actively distorts the very essence of the character.

So, no, I won’t acknowledge this fanon revisionism—or more accurately, fanon distortion. That’s not Sirius Black. And with that out of the way, we can return to the real Sirius Black—the one built from book flesh and bones, the man we actually know.

What intrigues me about Sirius is that he’s constantly at war with himself. The guy stormed out of his aristocratic, silk-sheeted home and straight into the muck and grime of rebellion. And rebellion is a funny thing—it’s loud, it’s violent, but it’s not always about breaking free; sometimes it’s just a different way to cage yourself. He chose to reject his family’s ideals, but the methods, the temperament, the sheer ferocity—that stayed with him. In his desperate attempt to be their opposite, he becomes just as volatile, just as dangerous. He’s trying to kill the part of himself that was shaped by his family, and yet, you can see it, can’t you? That same cruel streak, the same hunger for superiority. Only now it’s turned against anyone who dares remind him of where he comes from. It’s a brutal thing to watch, someone trying so hard to break the chains, only to forge new ones from their own fury.

Then there’s Severus Snape. If there’s anyone who can drag Sirius’s demons out into the open and force them to dance, it’s him. Sirius looks at Snape and sees everything he despises, everything he’s spent his life trying to drown, smother, burn out—the shadows of his family’s poison. Snape is like a living relic of the Black family’s cursed bloodline, a walking monument to what Sirius could have been, should have been, if he’d just bent the knee and stayed in line like a good Black boy. There’s no escaping it. Snape is a mirror that shows Sirius all the worst parts of himself, twisted into something cold, bitter, and unrelenting.

And Severus? Every time Snape looks at Sirius, it’s like staring into a mirror reflecting everything he’s ever wanted but never had. There’s that deep, gnawing resentment—the kind that comes from watching someone like Sirius, a privileged boy born into power and status, toss it all aside like it meant nothing. Sirius had everything Severus spent his entire life yearning for: a sense of belonging, the kind of respect that comes with a name, the freedom to be reckless without consequence. To see someone carelessly discard what he, Severus, would have fought tooth and nail to possess—it’s like being taunted by the very life he’s always dreamed of, but could never reach. Every time their paths cross, it’s not just personal hatred fueling that rivalry—it’s the bitterness of watching someone waste a treasure Snape has been denied his whole life.

They despise each other because, at their core, they’re fighting the same battle. They both want to escape their pasts, their pain, but they’re both trapped by it. Observing their dynamic is like watching two men rage against the same storm from opposite directions, and both of them lose in the end.

For all of Sirius’s darkness, there’s one light that never flickers: his absolute, unwavering loyalty to James Potter. James wasn’t just a friend—he was the family Sirius chose for himself, the anchor Sirius wrapped his entire identity around. Black would’ve followed James into the jaws of hell without a second thought, no questions asked, no hesitation. Sirius’s rebellion wasn’t just against his family’s twisted values; it was a revolt in the name of the bond he shared with James, a bond stronger than blood.

So when he finally clawed his way out of Azkaban, broken and ragged, it wasn’t just freedom he sought—it was the ghost of the only person he’d ever truly cared about. James was dead, but in Sirius’s mind, that bond was still alive, and he clung to it like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood. But the world had moved on, and Sirius—stubborn, proud Sirius—hadn’t. He was trapped in the past, unable to let go of the life he had lost. He smothered Harry with his expectations and projected James’s image onto him. In Sirius’s eyes, he wasn’t just mourning James—he was still trying to save him. Still trying to fight a battle that had ended long ago. Shackled to a memory, a ghost, Sirius was living on borrowed time. His desperate need to relive those days with James blinded him to the truth—that Harry wasn’t James, and the past couldn’t be resurrected. And in the end, Sirius’s death wasn’t a tragic loss; it was inevitable. A man like him, still fighting ghosts, still raging against a world that had moved on without him, was always destined to fall. His death wasn’t the end of a life—it was the final note in a song that had been playing since the day he lost James Potter.

As I said, Sirius Black’s depth far exceeds the number of pages he’s given. He’s the kind of character who burns bright and brief, leaving just enough of a mark to haunt you long after he’s gone. His short appearances were cut off far too soon, but twisted enough to make me take notice. And I’m nothing if not an admirer of the twisted. He’s the kind of man who’s always teetering on the edge of something dangerous, dragging his demons behind him like shadows that never quite leave his side. For all his flaws—his recklessness, his impulsiveness, his Peter Pan syndrome—he makes me feel something—whether it’s anger, sympathy, or that strange, grudging admiration you have for someone who keeps charging headlong into the storm, even when it’s bound to destroy him. The kind of character that makes me want to punch him square in the face and then buy him a drink right after. That’s a rare kind of magic, if you ask me.

[caramelcoffeeaddict]

Fairy Tales Can Come True [Klaine Fanfic]

Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel Characters: Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel Chapters: 1/1 [Complete] Word Count: 2,387 Rating: Teen&Up Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, College Age Klaine, Halloween Summary: Blaine asks Kurt to help him make his costume for an upcoming Halloween party Original Post Date: October 2024

A/N: Written for @klainetober Week 1 Prompt: Halloween Party

Excerpt:

“Hey, Kurt, wait up!” Blaine said, chasing after Kurt as they exited their Contemporary Theater class. Kurt stopped, turning to look at Blaine, with a curious smile on his face, while trying to suppress the butterflies in his stomach.  Once Blaine caught up to him, they resumed walking down the hall side-by-side. “Have you heard about Megan’s Halloween party tomorrow night?” “Yeah, I heard about it,” Kurt replied, coyly. “Well, I was planning on going as Prince Charming; specifically the Prince Charming from the 1997 live-action Cinderella – the one with Brandy and Whitney Houston. I’ve got most of my costume done already, but I’m having some trouble getting the jacket to come out right. I know that you are at the top of your Costume Design class, so I thought you might be able to help me with it?”

CONTINUE READING ON AO3

[doumadono]

for the characters with letters!!

Katsuki Bakugo - D :)

A/N: crafting this piece brought me immense joy, and I sincerely hope you derive the same pleasure from reading it ♥ The inspiration for this ficlet came from the following post

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

The rain-soaked day seemed to magnify the colors of your surroundings as you stepped out of the university building, the thrill of acing your exam still coursing through your veins. Thoughts of celebration filled your mind, oblivious to the figure standing not far from you.

As you unfurled your own umbrella, a sharp voice cut through the steady rhythm of the rain. "You think that piece of junk can handle this rain?"

Startled, you turned to see Bakugo, dressed in his hero costume, eyeing your umbrella with disdain. He held a large black umbrella that shielded him from the rain, and in his other hand, he clutched a vibrant bouquet of your favorite flowers. The surprise on your face must have been evident, as he continued with a gruff, "Don't look so shocked. I know you never pay attention to the weather."

"Katsuki. What are you doing here?" you asked, genuinely curious about what could have brought him to your university campus.

He scowled, walking closer and shifting his umbrella over both of you. "Heard you had some super important exam. Thought I'd check on ya."

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "You knew about my exam?"

He grunted, avoiding eye contact. "Yeah, well, Kirishima blabbed a thing or two. The Shitty Hair can't keep his mouth shut, you know."

Despite his dismissive tone, you could see through the facade. He had taken the time out of his busy hero schedule to show up for you. The realization hit you like a pleasant shock, and for a moment, you were left speechless. "You… you didn't have to do this, Katsuki," you stammered, genuinely touched by the unexpected gesture.

He rolled his eyes, as if annoyed by the sentiment. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Just take the damn flowers and let's get out of this rain."

You accepted the bouquet from him, expressing your gratitude in a hushed tone. "Thank you, Kacchan."

The two of you began to walk side by side, the rain creating a gentle melody on the umbrella. Bakugo's stoic expression softened as he glanced at you. "So, vet school, huh? How's that treating you?"

You shared your experiences, the challenges and triumphs of your chosen field.

Bakugo listened attentively, nodding occasionally. Despite his tough exterior, there was an undeniable interest in his eyes - they lingered on you as you spoke, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you.

As you reached the gates of the campus, Bakugo stopped and turned to face you.

The rain seemed to intensify, but neither of you minded. Under the shelter of the umbrella, Bakugo's gaze never left you. The world around you blurred as he spoke, his words carrying a vulnerability that contradicted his tough exterior. "I'm proud of you, you know. Choosing your own path and kicking ass at it," he admitted. "That's huge."

A warmth blossomed in your chest, and you leaned in, pressing a quick but tender kiss to his cheek. "Thanks, Katsuki. It means a lot coming from you."

He huffed, a half-smile playing on his lips, clearly not accustomed to such sentimental exchanges. "Stop it, nerd."

As you continued your walk, Bakugo's arm found its way around your shoulders, and you found comfort in the simple yet profound gesture. "Listen, Y/N. I've been thinking, perhaps you could spare a moment in your busy student schedule to have lunch with me this Friday?" Bakugo suggested, keeping his gaze forward, almost as if he feared you might reject his proposal; a faint blush adorned his cheeks.

A smile tugged at your lips as you listened to his invitation. "I'd love to," you responded, feeling a warmth spreading through you. His shyness only added to the charm of the moment, and the subtle pink on his cheeks was nothing compared to the flutter in your own heart. "Friday for lunch sounds perfect."

[cottonlemonade]

The Candy Scheme

word count: 549 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Ennoshita x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: spoilers

request: watching Nightmare Before Christmas with caramel popcorn dressed as pirates with Ennoshita || fluffy, trick or treating with boyfriend Ennoshita

After the Tanakas flooded the Karasuno group chat with pictures of their Halloween decorations, boasting about how many trick-or-treaters they’d attract with the 10ft skeleton alone, one look from you was enough for your boyfriend to join in on your scheme.

The plan in its essence was to first, spend way too much time deciding on costumes - ideally ones that cover your faces, practice stooping your shoulders and using slightly higher voices, and then see if your friends would notice it was you or fill the cheap plastic jack-o'lanterns with free chocolates.

After much consideration, you put on a pumpkin head and a patchy costume to go as an overfilled, chubby scarecrow on a budget and Ennoshita asked his not-so-little-anymore brother if he could borrow the mask and cloak of his Ghostface get-up from the previous year.

On the night of the heist, your boyfriend bent down to press his mask against yours where he assumed your lips would be and you straightened the folds of his long black cloak.

“Shall we?”, you asked, voice muffled through the pumpkin.

“We shall.” He held out his arm to you out of reflex but dropped it again figuring it might endanger the mission if you looked like a couple.

In true pretend-teenage fashion, the car was parked a little way down the street so you would walk the rest. As a cover, you had already put a handful of candy into each collection bucket so that it looked like your night had already started.

“You ready?“

Your pumpkin head wobbled precariously when you nodded and your boyfriend rang the doorbell (a few times for good measure).

“Trick or treat!“, you both called in unison as soon as the large paper ghost disappeared behind Ryunosuke‘s Dracula cape.

“Velcam!“, he announced in a horrible attempt at a Transylvanian-adjacent accent, his plastic teeth giving him a prominent lisp, “Velcam, my children of the night! My wife and I await you!“

Shimizu raised her hand to a half-wave behind her husband, fumbling with her cape to get a bowl of sweets from a table by the door.

Not suspecting a single thing, your friends loaded up your buckets. You were about to turn away, heart skipping from your success when your boyfriend said in a raspy voice supposedly fitting his character, “Your costume is really cool.”

“Why thank you!”, Dracula said.

Then your boyfriend switched to his normal voice.

“How do you like mine?”

Ryunosuke frowned. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head, and then his eyes widened, “Ennoshita?!”

But too late. Your boyfriend had already grabbed your hand and was running cackling across the lawn and down the street. You were doubling over with laughter and he helped you take off the pumpkin head to catch your breath. In one swift motion, he pulled his mask off as well. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face, still giddy as you’ve never seen him before.

“I can’t believe that worked.”, you said, while you rubbed at your sides to get rid of the stitches.

“Just too bad it’s over already.”

You looked at each other.

“You know…”, you began slowly, “Daichi lives just around the corner.”

Your boyfriend grinned, gave you a kiss, and put your mask back on.

a/n: request for @ennoshitas-princess

Thank you for the request and your congratulations! 🥹 I hope you enjoyed it ☺️🌟 A special thank you to the always great @haikyu-mp4 for helping me figure this one out.

[readypanda]

Indigo Park Spoilers (and very long post) ahead

Since Indigo Park is the newest fandom I've been dipping into, I figured I might as well make my own analysis for the game. The question I'll be discussing today is,

WHAT EVEN ARE THESE THINGS?

(sry for bad picture quality lol)

The thing I find interesting about these mascots (Molly, Lloyd, and what we've seen of Finley) that kind of sets them apart from other monsters in the mascot horror genre is...they almost seem like they're just animals. (I'll go over evidence for this in this post)

Think about it. In other mascot horror games, we've gotten:

animatronics possessed by dead children

employees/kids surgically(?) turned into toys

people mutated by a giant ink machine

animals/people who have had their DNA spliced with a mutagenic chemical

A little girl somehow turned into a monster (I think??)(really sorry Amanda I don't know what you are)

etc.

(I'm not up to date on all these properties and I know there's many more, so forgive me if my lore understanding is less than adequate. you know how it is with indie horror)

The important note about all these is that for the most part, these mascots are intelligent, or at least have the capability of intelligence. Almost everything on this list was at one point human, in fact.

So why do I think Indigo Park is any different? What leads me to believe they aren't intelligent? (at least, the animal versions of the characters that we run from in the game. Whether they are separate from the versions of the characters Rambley interacts with is something I'll touch on later)

I think the most obvious piece of evidence in regards to Molly and Lloyd (again, not much info on Finley yet) is how Lloyd acts. He doesn't talk at all, he just stalks the main character and attacks like an animal might (with the exception of a couple times he stands on two legs or props himself up here and there).

As for Molly, I hear you saying, "But she talks! We hear her speak!" And yes, dear reader, you are right. Molly does speak. This would disprove my argument of the mascots being purely animalistic, if it weren't for this kill screen.

Now, do we ever actually hear Molly say something that isn't a repetition or couldn't reasonably be a repetition? Has she said anything to prove her intelligence at all? (genuine question here because I haven't examined every one of her voice lines lol. If I'm wrong about this then whoopsie!)

Despite the past 250 words of speculation, though, whether they act just like animals isn't actually that important. We'll see more of them in later chapters anyway (or Lloyd and Finley at least) so that will likely prove or disprove this point with time.

The more interesting question is, what are they? Like, physically?

When Molly dies, we clearly see blood around her decapitated head. At the very least that rules out animatronics or something mechanical. In addition, in the audio of the hidden tape you get when you show Rambley one of the collectables, you can hear two staff members complaining about being replaced by "new mascots" right after they "got a new raccoon costume." This could mean a few different things, but it seems to imply that the mascots we see in this chapter are meant to be replacements for actors in suits (for meet and greets, promotion, shows, etc) and/or replacements for limited, expensive, and cumbersome animatronics. If this is true, we can also probably rule out them being human. Unless Indigo Park also had a secret human experimentation lab, which I wouldn't put past them.

I think it's too early to definitively state what these mascots are, but based on the evidence of above, I have a theory.

My personal theory is that these mascots are just animals who have been changed or mutated in some way to allow the park to have more "realistic" representations of the characters (also probably to cut down on the costs of paying a human employee). That would explain why they act the way they do and why they are so violent. They literally are just wild animals who have been warped to represent these cartoon characters.

Another important caveat to this theory is that, if this is true, then the mascots who attack us in the game are most likely NOT Rambley's "friends" as he knows them. That would explain why he doesn't call attention to Molly chasing us or Molly's dead body (with the exception of one very small reaction when he talks about the mascots). You would expect him to seem a little more upset if he thought that was his friend, but maybe on some level he knows it's not really her, just a representation of her.

That brings up another question, which is a can of worms I won't fully open here: Do Molly, Lloyd, and Finley have sentient "AI" equivalents like Rambley? If not, does Rambley know his friends aren't real? I'll let you decide.

Anyway, that just about closes my thoughts on this silly raccoon game. Thanks for letting me ramble on about it, and thanks for making it to the end of the post!

Lemme know about your own theories in regards to what these things are, or if there's any key evidence I missed. Kinda threw this together lol. Most of it will likely get disproven by future chapters but hey, thus is the price of theorizing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Please write something with this when u have time?

“What are you doing in my house?”

The villain, draped across the windowsill, regarded the hero with a coy look, as if the answer was obvious. “You left your window open.”

“That’s usually not an invitation,” the hero replied. They had moved one too many times because of uninvited visitors and the hero had just gotten used to this apartment. Often, they felt like they couldn’t win, no matter what. They felt like a failure, someone who couldn’t even secure their own home.

“I’m not searching for a fight.” The villain stepped into the living room, studying everything before their eyes found the hero. All together, they seemed quite peaceful. Observant. “I’m here on, well, you would call it a mission, I suppose.”

“Not interested, sorry.” The hero was getting sick of missions. Bridges falling down, subways derailing, buildings collapsing. Heroes die alone, they always do, and even though the hero wasn’t loving their job, death was a tad too far.

Still, every single mistake they made would be printed and posted. Every failure would come right back at them with an intensity that chewed on their spirit. They didn’t have time for therapy, so they felt themselves turn into a bitter human being.

In all honesty, did the hero deserve this? Probably…it’s easy to point and laugh at someone, even just for a second, so thinking about one’s own personal failures can become bearable. The hero had power, the hero had responsibility. Who deserved more to be blamed for failure than the most powerful being in the city?

“I’m just here because our sidekicks are friends, okay?” the villain said. They weren’t in costume and the hero didn’t see any weapons. As a civilian they looked quite nice. “They told me where you live. They’re worried about you. ”

The hero looked up from the pan they were cleaning. A failing villain was a win for the city and a failing hero was a catastrophe.

Hadn’t they done enough? Hadn’t they worked hard enough? Hadn’t they saved enough people? When was it their turn to be satisfied?

“My sidekick doesn’t know where I live. Safety protocol,” the hero said. The villain’s ears turned red and they cleared their throat.

Their eyes were glued to the floor. A rather futile attempt to hide their lie.

“Okay, well…it’s still true. They’re worried about you. You’re overworking yourself. They said you’re in danger.”

“And you wanted to come and save me?” the hero asked. Their chuckle was as insincere as it could get. “How cool is that? I’m getting saved by the villain.”

Silence. Only the siren of an ambulance far away cut through it.

“I’m not a saviour,” the villain said finally. They walked towards the hero who was more or less done with cleaning the dishes. “The morality of it is…confusing to me.”

“It’s quite simple, actually. All of it is a trolley problem and no matter what you do or how many people you save, people will prattle and hate and blame you,” the hero sneered, letting their sponge fall into the dirty dishwater. At the end of the day, not doing anything might be better.

“Maybe you need a vacation.”

“Vacation? You’re funny.” The hero laughed humourlessly yet again. They hadn’t been on vacation for what? Five years now? Having the luxury of a vacation was an insane thought.

Sometimes they thought this decadence of their character made them unendurable enough to turn themselves into a villain.

“It’s okay to find out that your dream sucks,” the villain said softly. They were hesitant as they put a hand on the hero’s shoulder. “It’s okay to find out that what you’ve always wanted isn’t what you expected and that it’s not the right thing for you.”

The hero didn’t find that so funny. They looked up at their enemy, the person they had sworn to fight and hate.

“It’s okay to be dissatisfied and tired. It’s okay to hate what you’re doing. It’s not okay to hold onto that, though.”

“I have a responsibility.”

“Yes,” the villain said. “The responsibility to take care of yourself. You’re falling apart and I am not a saviour. I can’t save you from yourself. I can only challenge you to do better. So, do better. Be better and start taking care of yourself instead of everyone else.”

The hero had the tiny suspicion that the villain wasn’t doing this for their sidekick’s sake.

@avvail thank you for the prompt hihi

[lunawings]

While I was in Japan during March 2024, I was able to visit the Pretty Rhythm Rainbow Live 10th Anniversary Exhibit. This is my favorite anime of all time, so it was an incredible honor.

Unfortunately, you could not take pictures in many areas and I always try my best to be respectful and follow the rules. So, I will describe it.

The walls of the first room were covered in several tapestries depicting each individual episode of the anime, so you could reminisce about everything that happened as you slowly walked through the room. In the middle of the room, there were several exhibits perfectly recreating every single paper, notebook, sketch...

Hokkaido itinerary? Wakana and Bell's test scores? Momo's Happy Rain costume sketches? Naru and Bell's manager applications? The score to pride? Any piece of paper you can think of that appeared in PRRL, it was all HERE! Recreated with meticulous accuracy...

The next room was the photo room where you could take pictures in Prism Stone or in front of Rinne's feathers.

Something else they had here which was really neat, was all of these mini photo ops of various scenes from the anime that you could put your plushies or figures into! As I rarely have someone with me to take photos of myself at events like this, and I rarely post them even when I do, NGL I loved it. I wish I had brought something! I did have a PAF Naru on my bag I could have used, but it would have taken time to unpin her so unfortunetly I did not.

The next room contained an exhibit of various merch from throughout the years.

Unfortunately, there wasn't really much merch to look at in the classic section. Just the guitars, some stones, and the Smart Pod Shot. But I definitely think there was more than that back in the day! There has to have been because I own at least one thing that was not in here (a pool bag) haha!

They also had a REAL prism guitar on display, which apparently they are actually going to sell at some point!?

The last part of the exhibit before going to the gift shop, was a hallway with messages from all the voice actresses and the director. This was also a zone where photos were banned, but I remember in the director's he acknowledged Rainbow Live as being the only Pretty Rhythm season to achieve a 10th anniversary celebration and ended his commentary with "Glorious Pretty Rhythm" hahaha. Next was the gift shop...

Which was honestly super disappointing... I was prepared to spend a lot of money here, but in the end, I barely bought anything. Everything, EVERYTHING good was blind and the stuff that wasn't was just so expensive.

Like, they had this set of Hiro cards with his magazine covers and debut poster and I really wanted them but when I actually saw them it was like... 2,000 yen? FOR THREE CARDS!? Those tiny little cards you can see up there below the keychains?

????????????

Am I missing something!?

In the end I bought two Wakana boards and two clear files. And the one blind thing I couldn't resist was the Prism Stone badges... which turned out to be Otoha x2 and one Ann. Gah.

I also might have bought a Wakana plush doll, but she was sold out. Out of all the Rainbow Live girls she was the only one sold out both here and at Tokyo Station Prism Stone.

And here were the bonuses I got. Including, yes, the AiPri card. So for people who saw me posting it over on @pretty-idol-hell, this was where it came from.

I also got a very special letter, which I am saving to translate at a later date...

Outside the event was an up and running Pretty Rhythm machine, or so I thought. Wow, no line! I said to myself as I happily bounced up to it only to find the coin slot taped over and a sign reading it could not be used. Darn. (I know there's no prism stones left in the wild, but come on, there's no free play mode...? Well, I guess even if there was they wouldn't want people loitering around the exhibition.)

Anyway, as you read I did have a few complaints, but it still makes my heart happy that this event existed at all. I loved all the time and effort that went into making all the recreations of things!