#rosie vixen

[iwanty0uu]

*ੈ‧₊˚ circa 2001 ✩

word count: 1180

You felt his hazel eyes trace the lining of your soft curves in the background of his video shoot, as you sat cutely on the hellcat that was parked in the middle of the street. It’s black shiny exterior was warm to the touch, slightly burning the fat of your thighs that were soon to be caressed by the dark-skinned man who couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. You were his 2000’s video vixen, black dark hair cut in layers and straightened, slightly blowing in the warm summer breeze, jeans shorts hiked up slightly, but not too much to reveal your delicates. Your cut up and cropped wife beater held your perky breasts beautifully while you sported a black leather jacket, and a diesel purse. It was safe to say that you put that shit on, you admired your knee high rick’s while adjusting your black bra, fixing your hair and pulling out your lipgloss, adjusting it while looking at your reflection on the car’s hood.You winked seductively as the camera’s panned around the rapper, then shifted it’s focus to you. You didnt know if he was eyeing you down for cinematic reasons, but all questions left your mind as he asked for your name while you all were on lunch break.

“I’m Y/n” you said casually as you bit into your sandwich, drinking your mango Arizona, you paused and your eyes met his,

“I noticed that you stare a lot, so what’s your name?” You asked smiling, dusting off bread crumbs from your hand, digging into your fries. “Oh I’m sorry ma, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” he chuckled, his smile lit up the room, admiring the way his grillz fit perfectly in his mouth, comforted by his soft plush mauve lips, his tongue swirled around them quickly as he tucked his bottom lip into his mouth, biting against the soft supple flesh that was now rosy and glossy. His skin was perfect, including the scar that rested on his forehead and under his eye, thick perfect eyebrows that held a small slit in his left one, perfectly aligned with the discolored line on his forehead. His hair was low and wavy, shaped perfectly and cut, chalk fresh and highlighted against his dewy skin. His goatee was short, but still sexy, emphasizing his youth and maturity all at once. “I’m Onyankopon..”

You were all over him.. so you couldn’t blame yourself as you were currently being bent over the trunk of the hellcat that was now parked in the huge garage that wasn’t too far away from the shoot.He slowly slid himself inside of you, as the knees below you went weak , loosing count of the amount of orgasms that he talked you through.His clean hands gently rubbed on your clit as he thrusted into your hole, sucking on your neck, palming your round breasts with his free hand, his soft and sticky skin was caressing yours as he slid his hand from your chest and trailed up your neck, grabbing your silk press and pulling your head back, forcing your tear filled eyes open.

“Look at you baby girl, you hear that?”

He asked as the set called for the both of you, their cries drowned out by the squelching of your flower, she loved the attention that she was receiving, and you felt as if you were close. His mushroom shaped tip entered and exited out of you, periodically rubbing on your clit, and then ramming itself back inside of you as he whispered in your ear.The sloppy sounds of sex echoed against the concrete walls, bouncing off of the metal of the most expensive cars that you’ve ever seen.You were grateful for the fact that there were no cameras.

“Fuckkk Onyyyy” you whispered, this intimate moment made even more intense since it was only your second time having sex. No matter how good he made you feel, you still were ashamed that you were able

to give in so quickly and wished that you would have waited at least before you let him fuck, feeling like this was meaningless. It was just a quickie..and shortly,the sensation that was once closing in had left when your focus did, and he noticed..His strokes slowed down as he pulled out, turning you around to face him. He slowly slid himself inside again , groaning while he kissed you, “Get outta your head mama, it’s just us, no one will know.” His muscled arms wrapped around you as you pulled on the neck of his white tee, under the green jersey he put on after an outfit change.

“We just met, but I wont break your heart love..just-fuckkkkk-“

He moaned as you began to squeeze around him, his voice turned you on to the point that you could cum right then and there, the way you gripped him almost made him faint, his thrusts became more calculated, almost mean as he kept his focus, eyes low,biting back stammers and hisses on every word.

“But I-shit..I want something with you Y/n..I- oh my gosh, I just want you, I’d-damn I’d drop everything, every other bitch, -this pussy gon kill my ass one day”

You listened to his voice , bucking your hips to match his rhythm, internalizing every word while he carried you through your high.

“FUCK! Ony I’m cominnn baby”

You plead grabbing his head, anything you could find because you needed him close, kissing his neck with the remaining lipgloss left, you moaned into his ears with relief, breath slowly steadying.Ony left a trail of butterfly kisses all along your face and neck, as his hips began to twitch, feeling the release of his sperm through the condom. The quiet zip of his pants brought you back to his senses as his hands slid around your waist to lift you up, sitting you on the roof of the car. He rumaged through his pockets for hand sanitizer, and baby wipes lending you a clean rag that the set gave him as “Part of his fit” to wipe off.Them big ass pockets held his life.

“Hear what my love,” His hands rested on your thighs, still standing in between your legs. “ I’ll take you out to eat later, we can go shopping, I’ll take you to the car dealer even, we can go shopping, I want you to use my card and we can even go on tour if you want, or keep it private-“

You smiled shyly, looking down as he kissed your hands..

He caught himself simping over a girl he just met like a looser and laughed while he kissed your forehead again, catching himself before be accidentally love-bombed you.

“Listen baby, what I’m tryna say is that I want you..bad, and if I fuck up just remember this moment okay?”

“Okay Onyankopon do you pinky swear?Because you will be kept to your word.” you blushed while looking at him sternly, holding a painted finger out, he laughed at your child-like behavior, kissing your pinky before intertwining his with your own…

“Pinky Promise”…

dk how i feel abt this but one shots comin soon lol ~𝓵𝓮𝓵𝓮

[chaoticace2005]

Reasons the Mothman should die, collectively written by the residents of the Hazbin Hotel:

Coding for Characters: Vaggie, Charlie, Pentious, Alastor, Niffty, Husk, pretty much everyone

TW: References to abuse

He’s holding back Angel’s progress. (Vaggie, is killing really necessary?) (I am concerned about going after a Vee)

I’m hungry (ALASTOR!)

Ms. Angel gets nervous when on the phone with him.

His coat is tacky.

He’s a bug! And bugs must be DESTROYED!

So Angel stops feeling like he has to be so damn fake. This is getting on my fucking nerves.

HE LICKED CHARLIE!!! (Vaggie, wait it’s okay.)

Color scheme sucks. Purple AND red?!

He makes Angel sad, NOBODY should make Angel sad.

Those obnoxious glasses just make him look stupid.

He’s a manipulative, abusive prick.

ANGEL DIDN'T KNOW BOUNDARIES WERE A THING?!?!?!?!?!? (Honestly that explains a lot.)

NOBODY deserves to be in an abusive relationship.

Too many arms. Nobody needs that many. (...Angel has that many?) (Well maybe he shouldn't.)

Ms. Angel keeps coming home all messy!!

He’s ruining hearts for everyone. Me and Angel already have enough. At least those are on our bodies, what’s his excuse?

Hearts should not even be ASSOCIATED with Valentino, THIS IS NOT LOVE.

I can do without all the sexual depravity. While I am in Hell this is NOT one of the reasons.

If I have to hear that ringtone one more damn time-

The Eggies found some of his films. They should never be exposed to such horrors. Now I have to explain what “a sex” is.

Makes picture shows that are a disgrace to the idea of “entertainment.”

He’s making a bad name for Uncle Ozzie. This is NOT “lust.”

So we don’t have to listen to another one of Angel’s pornos. (Agreed, it’s quite horrifying!!)

So Ms. Angel isn’t tired when she gets home and can save the kinky stuff for then :) (Niff, really?)

So the kid stops coming home with bruises and cuts that I fix up at 3 am. (Husk, what the fuck?)

Because what the FUCK Valentino?

He keeps forcing Angel to do drugs. (HE WHAT?! Like crack??) (That but also I’m pretty sure whatever comes out of him is an aphrodisiac.)

I want to use his antenna as a backscratcher

Has that whole red color thing going on. Only I am allowed to wear red :) (Al, your text isn’t even red.) (My what?)

What is up with his red spit and smoke? Seriously disgusting.

The red stuff from him may be what allows Velvette to create her “Love Potions” which funds Vax’s stupid endeavors (Do you mean Vox?) (Who?)

FOR MY COLLECTION :D (…yeah okay.)

Really is making a bad name for Overlords. And not in the fun way.

Angel’s shown trauma signs of abuse in our meetings. Im pretty sure it’s Valentino.

Make a doll out of his fur so I have a main villain for roach puppet shows!!!

His only purpose is to keep Veks occupied but considering Vixen’s inane attempts to catch my attention it isn’t working.

So Angel can have his soul and he and Husk can run off into the sunset together like in a fanfiction!!! (Ah, yes that would be nice.) (WE WHAT?!) (Oh Husker, denial doesn’t suit you.)

So Angel can get a good boyfriend THAT’S NOT ME to stop these bullshit allegations.

So Angel can admit his feelings to Husker because our cat surely isn’t going to be the first to do it. (ALASTOR I SWEAR TO GOD!)

Who knows how many other people he’s abusing.

Seems to give Vicks confidence. He has enough of that as is. It much more fun to destroy him.

He makes Angel sad which makes Cherri sad!

HE HIT ANGEL!!!

Called my dear Rosie an "old hag" NOBODY CALLS ROSIE AN OLD HAG.

Angel is a good friend and deserves so much better.

I’ve forgotten what moths taste like.

He keeps trying to get Angel to move out :(

Told the kid he had to lose weight. What the actual FUCK. (Ill kill him.)

He’s annoying and looks quite stupid. How has this not been added yet?!

He’s making a bad name for Spanish speakers everywhere. (Yeah it’s embarrassing.) (Wait… what?)

He’s making a bad name for pansexuals everywhere.

He’s making a bad name for wing-holders everywhere. (HE HAS FUCKING WINGS?!) (Oh, yeah, I didn’t tell you?)

Too tall. This is ridiculous.

Won’t admit he’s blind so he’s become even more of a public safety hazard.

If I get one more transmission of him and Box commiting lascivious acts someone will be eaten. I don’t care who. What the purpose of these are I don’t know. Advertisement? (I think it’s to make you jealous boss.) (Ha! Jealous of what? Mediocre sex with a pathetic excuse for a businessman with a TV as a head?)

Because Angel deserves fucking better.

[worldhistoryfacts]

One type of American World War II propaganda that delights me is the pro-book material:

{Buy me a coffee} {WHF} {Medium} {Looking Through the Past}

More interesting propaganda in my newsletter:

[am-i-interrupting]

Perfect Little Vixen | Vox x Fox!Reader— OATSH

Summary: You go into heat around Vox for the first time.

Warnings: 18+

You didn’t even notice when it began happening. Usually, you were much better at keeping track than this but things had been changing so much, it slipped your mind.

You’d just finished moving into a tower with Vox. You’d been unpacking and decorating and rearranging and collaborating to make this a home. You hadn’t even realized that what you’d been feeling and doing were signs of something else.

You had never lived with a romantic partner. You could barely remember the last time you’d moved. You didn’t have a lot of basis for what was and wasn’t normal in this context so perhaps that’s why it came up on you suddenly.

“You feel hot,” Vox said as he used the hand wrapped around your shoulders to touch your forehead.

He was normally cool to the touch when he wasn’t strung up into knots over something but now you felt a shiver come to you as you nestled closer to him. You placed your head in the crook of his neck and inhaled.

He smelled. . . so good. Mint and citrus, the same as always. Yet your teeth almost ached with the need to bite down on him.

Your mind went hazy. You pressed closer to him. You needed him. You needed to consume him, have him inside. . . Fuck.

The constant hands on him, the way you’d led him on the past couple days with teasing only to back out the last minute, the fucking nesting.

The bed was covered in blankets and pillows. You’d even sprayed a spritz of his cologne above the bed yesterday because it didn’t smell enough like him.

You’d never had a partner for this. Not one you cared about not killing in the process.

You jerked away from him and shook your head. His arms stayed in the air from where you’d pushed them off him. His fingers flexed, like he was about to reach for you. Then his arms fell to his side and he propped himself up.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “Should I call Rosie? A doctor?”

You shook your head. “I’ll, um, I’ll be fine,” you told him as you got up. “I just— would you trust Starlight to take care of Vark for a few days?”

He immediately went ramrod straight with tension. “What’s going on?”

You walked out the bedroom door. He got up to follow.

“Nothing, nothing,” you said.

Vark jumped up, hitting you right above the hip and you bit your lip to stop a groan of discomfort from escaping you as you guided his paws off you. Subconsciously you noted he needed to get his claws filed. They nearly cut you through your clothing.

“I can handle it myself,” you told him, “but I either need you to leave and take Vark or someone to come pick him up if you decide to stay.”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you close to him. You took a sharp inhale and immediately wished you hadn’t as you felt a different kind of heat begin to come to you than the heat radiating off your skin.

A small squeak left your throat. You closed your eyes as embarrassment came to you. You hardly ever lacked so much composure.

You bowed your head and let it fall against his chest.

“I’m going into heat,” you muttered.

“What?”

“I’m—“

“No, no, I heard you,” he said. “Demons can do that?”

“No, I’m just playing a prank on you,” you said in a deadpanned tone. Then in one almost yelling, you added, “Of course they can! You’re just a tech demon. You got lucky.”

“Uh-huh, sure I did,” he said. He brushed your hair out of your face and scratched at the base of your ears causing your legs to buckle. “You can call Starlight and have her pick him up. How long is this going to last?”

“Mmm, about three days.” You gripped his shirt tightly, wrinkling it into a fist. “Stop teasing me, Vox. I can’t take it right now.”

He laughed softly. “I’m barely doing anything.”

“You—“

You threw your head back with a groan and pushed away from him. You walked over to the refrigerator where some meat had been left out overnight to thaw. You quickly opened the box and dumped it into Vark’s food bowl. Then you grabbed Vox’s shirt and pulled him back into the bedroom, locking the door behind you.

“Hello.”

“Shut up.”

You pulled him down into a kiss. Kissing him was like kissing static, constant shocks in your mouth. They were cool, it was nice. His tongue was smooth and ran across the ridges of your mouth so nicely.

Fabric bunched between your hands.

“Off. Off. I need this off,” you said as you tugged at his shirt.

“Alright, alright, slow down for a second, baby,” he said.

You snarled and backed away from him as he undid the buttons of his sleep shirt. You quickly discarded your clothes with not even half as much care as he had for his own.

When your hands touched the exposed skin of his shoulders you moaned. He was so cool in contrast to you even as he was beginning to heat up.

You pulled him close to you, relishing in the feeling of his chest against yours, your hands on his back, his own on your waist, his claws brushing against the end of your spine and therefore the base of your tail.

You wanted to have him wrap his hands around it, see his deep blue contrast the lighter color of your tail. You wanted him to pull it. Tug on it as he. . .

You needed him.

You locked lips again. His teeth ran over your lips causing a tingling sensation. You fell back onto the bed, him atop you.

Your hands ran up and down his chest. You needed to feel every part of him. You needed to consume his very being.

“Aw, look at you,” he said with a chuckle as he palmed your breast. “So desperate.”

“Vox,” you said in warning.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lack this much discipline,” he said.

“Vox,” your voice came out a bit more whiney. He leaned down and licked your nipple, a small shock coming with his tongue. “Oh, fuck me,” you said, completely breathless.

“Say you need me.”

“I— I need, mmm, fuck!” You threw your head back against the pillow as his claws scratched against your inner thigh.”

“I know you need to be fucked,” he said, punctuating his sentence with a harder scratch upwards that ended with his claws just barely ghosting your clit, “but who do you need to fuck you?”

“You.”

“Who?”

“Vox!”

“Yes?”

“Fuck me! Please! I need it! I need you!” you begged.

“Oh, baby—“ you moaned as you felt his tip drag through your folds and briefly linger at your clit, rubbing against it— “all you had to do was ask.”

He pounded into you. A quick, sharp movement of his hips that caused him to fill you quickly, instantly. It was your turn to scratch him. Blood began to bead down the trail of your own claws.

“Oh, fuck, Vox,” you said, eyes closed but seeing static.

“That’s it, doll.” His palm cupped your face. “Look at me. Come on, you can do it. Just look at me.”

You opened your eyes to see his face. He was blushing, a brightness to his screen that wasn’t usually there and static between his antennas which showed his fast heart rate before it ended in a heart.

“You’re so,” his voice trailed off. “Tell me you need me.”

“I need you,” you told him.

“Again.”

“I need you.”

“Fuck.”

He paused his thrusting to bury his head in the pillow above your head. His hands on your waist gripping you tightly.

When he pulled back there was a trail of red coming from his lips and his eye was spiraling without any power behind it. His heartbeat still fully on displace above his head.

His hands trailed down, causing your skin to twitch as a static path was made, from your waist to the bend of your knee.

“Spread for me,” he said with a small nudge. “Wider. Wider. So good for me, my precious little vixen.”

He moved so the bend of your knee aligned with his elbow. His hands grasped hold of yours. He thrust deeply inside you as he moved to kiss you. His mouth finding yours and he filled you entirely.

He started a deep, slow pace. He would drag out of you, letting you feel his cock pull against your inner walls as he left you empty. Then he’d piston back inside of you. He’d let you just get used to the feeling of him stretching your walls, his tip resting just at the wall of your cervix, before he’d start the process all over again, leaving you empty.

You squeezed his hands tight. Your head tilted back but you focused on him the entire time, even as your gaze with hazed.

“Mmm, Vox,” you said his name like a prayer as your legs wrapped around him. “You’re so good, so perfect. Just what I need. Fuck. You’re just what I need.”

“Say you’re mine,” he said.

“I’m yours.”

“Say it again.”

“I’m yours.”

He closed his eyes with a grunt that ended with a whine as he opened them again. “Please.”

“I’m yours.”

“Fuck.”

He rolled his hips against you. He came, filling you with what you needed. You felt the warmth spread inside you.

That feeling, that fullness, the twitch of him even after he’d given everything, the strain in your legs from their position, the sparks on his finger tips against your skin, the look on his face is what did you in.

You pulled him as close as you could. Your legs shook. Your vision went black. You were sure you screamed.

You were both spent.

Vox let your legs fall. His head went between your breasts as he panted, as you both did. His hands let go of your own and petted at your sides. He licked at your nipples causing you to whine.

He relented when you shoved him away.

He summoned a phone and punched in Starlight’s number.

“Come and get Vark. We’ll be occupied for the next three days,” he said before he hung up and pressed in a different number. “I’ll need the next three days off. I’ve been assigned a very special task from a very influential individual. I understand it’s last minute but—“

“Don’t move,” you said, voice nearly at a sob as he had shifted his torso to better grip the phone and therefore shifted inside you. You could feel some of his seed slip out of you and the thought alone nearly made you weep.

He grabbed your hand as he finished talking, “Its of the utmost importance.”

He hung up the phone and kissed you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said as he began massaging the base of your ears. Which had, for once, turned back fully able to admit submission.

[slutty-transformation-stories]

Bitch In A Bottle

"You're going to love this, babe," Kyle exclaimed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Courtney looked at him with a blend of curiosity and wariness. They'd been together since high school, where they'd both been part of the 'nerd herd', bonding over comic books and video games. Kyle had always had a penchant for pranks, but they were usually harmless and good-natured. This time, though, she couldn't quite read his expression.

"What is it?" she asked, taking the bottle he held out to her. It looked like her usual shampoo, but the label read "Platinum Blitz" instead of "Chestnut Sheen."

"It's a surprise," he winked, his voice full of excitement. "Trust me, it'll be epic."

Courtney sighed, rolling her eyes playfully. "Fine, but if I turn into a blue alien, you're going to have to explain to my mom why her only daughter is on the news."

The next morning, Courtney stepped into the shower, feeling the warm water cascade over her. As she lathered her hair with the new shampoo, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement. Maybe a little change would be fun. She rinsed it out, watching the water swirl down the drain with a hint of color she hadn't noticed before. Stepping out, she wrapped a towel around her and went to the mirror, her heart racing. To her horror, her hair had indeed turned a brilliant, unmistakable shade of blonde. Panic set in as she realized the gravity of Kyle's prank.

Her eyes widened when she saw the transformation wasn't limited to her hair. Her breasts had ballooned, her nipples darkening to a rosy hue. Her body had become more voluptuous, her hips wider and her skin glowing. Courtney's shyness melted away, replaced by an unexpected and overwhelming sense of confidence and sexuality. She looked at herself in the mirror and couldn't resist running her hands over her new curves, feeling a strange thrill at the sight.

The change in Courtney's demeanor didn't go unnoticed. At work, she found herself flirting with colleagues she'd never given a second glance. Her voice grew sultrier, and she began to dress in tighter, more revealing clothes. Kyle found her new persona thrilling at first. He couldn't believe the shy girl he'd been with for so long had become a vixen with an insatiable appetite for attention. But as the days turned into weeks, he started to feel like he didn't know her anymore.

One evening, after a particularly long day at the office, Kyle walked in to find Courtney's clothes strewn across the bedroom floor. His heart skipped a beat as he saw her, naked and straddling a muscular black man on their bed. She looked up at him with a feral grin, her eyes glinting with lust. "You're home early," she purred, her voice thick with satisfaction as the man beneath her thrust up into her. Kyle was shocked to see his girlfriend, no longer the sweet, innocent girl he knew, but a sex-crazed woman with a wild appetite.

The stranger's dark skin contrasted with Courtney's now-blonde hair, which cascaded down her back as she rode him. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, and Kyle could see the man's hands gripping her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. Courtney threw her head back, her mouth open in a silent scream as the man's muscles tensed. The sight of Courtney, her eyes glazed over in ecstasy, was too much for Kyle to handle. He felt a mix of anger, betrayal, and an unwelcome arousal at the sight of his girlfriend being claimed by another.

"You can watch," she snarled, "but only if you behave." Her words were cold, a stark contrast to the warm, loving tones she used to use with him. "And if you're a good boy," she added, her voice dripping with malice, "you can clean me up after."

Kyle felt his blood boil. He'd never seen this side of Courtney before, and he didn't like it. The man above her grinned, a knowing look in his eyes, and Kyle realized with a start that he wasn't just a random lover. This was deliberate. This was part of the twisted game his girlfriend had become.

As the man climaxed, filling Courtney with his seed, Kyle's world came crashing down around him. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew he had to get out of there. He backed away, his eyes never leaving the scene before him. Courtney leaned back, her body trembling with pleasure, and whispered, "Welcome to the new me, Kyle."

The man pulled out of her, his member glistening with their combined juices. Courtney looked at Kyle and licked her lips. "I think you're going to love the new me," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But if you don't, you can always go back to playing with your toys."

Kyle's eyes narrowed. This wasn't the girl he'd fallen in love with. This wasn't the Courtney who'd shared his nerdy jokes and held him when he was down. This was someone else entirely, a woman who reveled in his humiliation.

This Story was inspired by my good friend Ironpatriot so make sure to show them some love.

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

“(Don’t) Hurry Down The Chimney Tonight” - Dean x Reader

Rating Explicit

Dean x Reader

Tags: Christmas (Holiday) Smut, Red Ribbons, Candy Canes, Peppermint Sensations, Sleigh Bells, Sexy Santa References, Dean is Tied Up, Edging, Oral Sex, 69, Vaginal Sex, Reader is a Naughty Little Vixen, Dean deserves a proper (sexy) Christmas.

Word Count: 2700

Summary: Dean saved Reader from the supernatural on Christmas Eve years ago. Every Christmas since, she has always found a way to show her unending appreciation.

Notes: This smutty little fic is a holiday gift for @jessjad for the 2023 SPNFanFicPond Secret Santa Fic Exchange. I hope you enjoy the reader’s sexy times with Dean.

Big thanks to @sam-is-my-safeword and runawaydr3amer (AO3) for reading the first draft and helping with a great many awesome smut ideas. Additional thanks to runawaydr3amer, who also beta’d this fic and packaged it up nice and shiny. 

Merry holidays!

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo, and this part will fill my "Edging" square.

Resources:

Collage created in Canva

Pic found on Google (Fanpop)

Song Reference: Santa Baby by Joan Javits and Philip Springer (listen/watch this version sung by Eartha Kitt)

Dean sinks those pearly whites into the flesh of his bottom lip. His top lip pulls up and back into a painful sneer. The usual rosy, pillowy fullness of that mouth is instead taut, whitening under the capture. You laser focus onto the pointy canine denting into the mouth you have debated sitting on since you began this teasing challenge.

jingle

You finish fashioning a sweet little bow with the ribbon. It’s ruby red and velvety soft.

“Well, I think that’s about the prettiest package I ever did wrap.”

jingle

“What do you think, Mr. Claus?” you ask, your voice as innocent and demure as you can manage.

Dean opens his mouth and expels a slow gasp. jingle “Fuck, sweetheart. You aren’t playin’ fair.”

“That’s the whole point.”

You rise from the edge of the bed and take in the entire scene. It’s magnificent. 

He’s magnificent.

Dean is lying atop the forest green comforter of your bed. Naked. Well, not totally naked. A red ribbon - adorned with one single sleigh bell - binds his wrists together and anchors him to the headboard. His arms, jutting out and bent to create a diamond-shaped frame around his face, give you a prime ticket to the gun show. Biceps flex and tendons raise under the skin as he tries to remain as motionless as possible.

jingle

You aren’t a complete heathen. He’s got a fluffy pillow, the same deep green color as the comforter, to rest his head atop. Dean is anything but sleepy. He’s wound up. He stares back at you, the green of his irises electric and flaming with intensity.

You anticipate how sublime it will feel to strum the cords of his neck. Tickle your fingertips down that chest. You imagine Dean ring-a-ding-dinging and cursing himself if you take the time to trace the outline of his tattoo. Circle those perky nipples. Dip into his belly button and follow his treasure trail of baby-fine hair.

You marvel again at the other ribbon that you tied. You’d purchased a couple yards of red velvet at the craft store weeks ago with this in mind. With him in mind. You were ecstatic it had been enough to criss-cross around the crease below that fine ass. It wraps over a slight vee along his waist. The makeshift holiday jockstrap has Dean’s beautiful, now fully erect, cock sporting a bow.

Dean sighs. “Are you done decking my balls?” jingle

You giggle and fiddle with the belt of your robe. It’s red as well, but made of silk. “As we discussed, the end result of all of this is all up to you. Santa.” You flip a switch to turn off the ceiling light. The sconces stay on above the headboard. Two halos figure eight over Dean’s beautiful body, awash in a warm amber glow.

He’s a full print ad of holiday cheer and sinful debauchery.

“You’re being very naughty, (jingle) Mrs. Claus.” Dean licks his top lip—your core clenches at the deep timbre of his scolding. 

You’ve been wet since you both finished Christmas dinner. Since you told him you had one more gift for him waiting upstairs. Since you left him in the bedroom with orders to strip while you changed in the bathroom. Since you pulled out the ribbons. Since you explained that if he was good and could keep his jingling down to a minimum through what you had planned, you’d fuck him into the New Year.

You inhale and shrug, then begrudgingly turn your back to the sight. It takes a few taps on your phone for you to get to the song. You stifle another giggle at the little jingles Dean can’t help as he waits. 

Once you tap the play button, the festive and recognizable melody begins. A barbershop quartet bah-bums a bit before the sultry and smooth vocals of Eartha Kitt take the lead.

You look back over your shoulder at Dean and whisper along with Eartha.

You peel the silky robe off one shoulder then the other. Dean groans when the layer slips down to the floor. jingle

“Shit.” He moans and you grin in satisfaction at the hoped for reaction.

You turn back to face him, adding a dramatic hair flip. You're wearing a sexy little Mrs. Claus outfit. It’s a red velvet dress with a scandalously high skirt and a low-cut halter. White fur lines both the top and bottom. It’s all cinched nice and tight around your waist with a black belt and a gold buckle.

You bend at the knees and lean forward, shoulders folding in and hands resting on your thighs. It gives Dean the perfect vantage to ogle your cleavage. You purr along with the next line and modify the lyrics a smidge.

“Man, I must have been a really good boy this year.” Dean stares in awe, not even caring how much he’s jingling with his squirms atop the bed.

You let it slide for the time being, thrilled at the kid in a candy store grin plastered on his face and the way the bow sways with every twitch of his cock.  

Dean tilts his head to the side. His gaze begins at your red-glitter heels and canvases every inch of skin from ankles to thighs. He pauses, stopping to stare at the hint of flesh under the skirt hem. jin-jingle jingle jin-jingle He pants out, “Mrs. Claus forgot her panties, huh?”

You lift a finger and wiggle it back and forth in the air. “Uh-uh-uh. Remember, really good boys stay still if they want their present.”

The bell jangles no matter how carefully he attempts to reposition himself. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbles and you laugh. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll be good,” he whispers soft and sweet.

The heels tap across the hardwood as you walk over to settle beside Dean. You adjust your skirt to let the scant amount of fabric fan over your naughty bits. Being so close to him makes you forget the lyrics to sing along with Eartha.

You rest a hand on his chest. Through clenched teeth, Dean inhales at the touch, the rest of him frozen in place. The bell is silent. Your other hand grabs one of the candy canes you had left on the bedside table. For reasons.

Watching him fight every urge he has to reach out and touch you is fascinating. And the power you have over him gives you a head rush. You continue the tease, twirling the candy between your fingers, then laving the cane’s hook with your mouth and tongue. Dean garners some pity from you as he whines, brows downturned, eyes attentive to your every swirl and suck. You swing the cane close to his mouth. “Wanna taste?”

He swallows. “Wanna taste you,” he states, the hint of hope escaping around the edges of a soft moan.

The thrill of his need quickens your pulse. No other man has loved and adored you as thoroughly and exuberantly as Dean Winchester. You nod. “You will. But, first,” you rub the wet-slick candy cane over his bottom lip, “show me what that mouth wants to do.”

“You know what this mouth can do,” he reminds with a little sass, letting the candy cane tap against his bottom teeth. 

But soon enough, he indulges you. He slips the hook between his lips. His tongue slides out under the curve of peppermint, lapping at the sticky sweet. Again and again. Your breath hitches into your open mouth as you watch, enthralled at the ministrations of that thick and powerful muscle. He sucks the confection in a little farther, pursing his lips. The sounds he’s making, enjoying the treat, are downright pornographic and send any extraneous bell ringing to the back of your hearing queue. The red food coloring coats them like lip gloss by the time you break from the spell of his show. You guess it’s been minutes since Eartha finished her rendition of ‘Santa, Baby.’ The rest of the playlist you created has soft and dreamy instrumentals.

“My turn,” you cajole. You tug on the cane. He relinquishes, but not without some resistance. A little pop escapes his mouth once the hook is freed. You marvel at the progress he made. The hook end is substantially shorter and thinner than when he began.

He sniffs and tilts his chin up in pride. jingle “Your turn with that, or my turn with you?”

The cane slips back into your mouth, your fingers sticky from all the handling. You stand, kick off your heels, and climb back onto the bed on your knees. You grin as you suck on the candy.

His eyes soften. “Be careful, baby. Don’t want you to choke. Well, at least not on that.” He smirks.

He’s right. Safety first. You toss the candy onto the bedside table.

“You are so (jingle) fucking hot in that (jingle) outfit.” He grins and waggles eyebrows in anticipation. “Gonna let me down your chimney, Mrs. Claus?” jingle jingle jingle

The actions in the next few seconds are a blur. You wonder if Dean has some sort of Jedi mind control ability. Because even though you are supposed to be the one making decisions this evening, his seductively god-awful puns find you sitting on his face, reverse cowgirl. 

“You might get the golden ticket to all my secret places if you’re lucky.” Your fingers tip-toe down his chest like a grinch about to steal someone else’s presents. 

jingle jingle jingle

“Fuckin’ hell,” Dean murmurs under your skirt. Hot breath bathes your inner thighs and other areas you hope will soon be explored.

Your hands rest in the little divots created by his pelvic bones while you take his body in and plan your method of attack. You pull on the ribbon and release his cock of the bow. Then, you’re deep throating him like he’s your last meal.

Not one to be outdone at an all-you-can-eat buffet, Dean’s entire face gets in on the feast as well. Nerves respond to the tingling sensation of the residual peppermint on Dean’s lips and tongue. You shiver at the gloriously heightened sensitivity when he pulls back to blow on your pussy. “This is so much better than milk and cookies.” He moans and groans and jingles all the way. 

As much as you’re loving the taste of his precome, the velvet texture against your tongue, and the way the tip triggers a tiny gag reflex at the base of your throat, it’s time to remind him of the consequences of all that noise he’s making. You release the hard length from your mouth and try to concentrate on your own breathing during the absolute virtuoso way he’s eating you out. As much as you’d love his fingers to get in on the action, you know you’d have no control over the situation. You sigh in relief that he’s trying to adhere to some parts of the game. The pitiful, half-hearted ribbon shackling of his hands to the headboard is no match for Dean Winchester.

You steady yourself on wobbly knees and one shaky elbow. A firm grip around the base of his cock makes Dean gasp. He stills after that. In your mind’s eye, you picture the beauty of that mouth and how his luscious pink lips were slick with peppermint. You imagine how slick they are with you now. “Sorry, baby,” he murmurs and you feel him settle back onto the pillow. “I’ll be as quiet as I can. Can you blame me, though? Here I am, under your sweet little skirt, in the dark (jingle)... shit, sorry. But, you can’t drop a five-course meal in front of a starving (jingle) man and not expect him to wanna little taste.”

You squeeze his cock. “That’s part of the challenge.”

“I’m always up for a challenge. You always make me feel so good.”

You groan at the praise he bestows. Without releasing your hold, you shimmy off his chest. Channeling the prim and delicate sensibilities of Mrs. Claus, you crawl along the comforter and settle between nutcracker bow legs. With knees tucked under you and sat atop bare feet you accept him in your mouth again and get to work. 

You take in the sight of Dean inventorying your every action. He’s gripping the top of the headboard with both hands to steady his upper body. You clock that the little stinker has also managed to palm the sleigh ball in an effort to silence or, at the very least, muffle it. You consider that move cheating. But he feels so sublime that you can’t bear to part with him to voice your irritation. He’s also whispering the sweetest filth to you while he watches.

“Damn. Yeah. Those lips of yours feel so good around my cock. You take it so good, baby. Wish I could fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, but I’d definitely jingle-jangle way too much.” A tongue swipe over his top lip accentuates the glossy look of his ruby-tinted mouth in the warm light. “You really are too good to me. You give the best Christmas presents.” He stiffens further with each downstroke. “Aw, yeah. Suck it.” Your rhythm increases. “So pretty. Wanna touch you so bad.” He gasps. “Fuck, I’m gettin’ close.” jingle jingle   

You clamp around the base again and squeeze, freeze mid-swallow - your lips around the tip - as soon as he rings.

Dean squirms and grumbles.

You continue to bring him to the edge of orgasm, then halt. Your jaw is aching along with the rest of your body as time passes.

You’ve fucked Dean up in the best way possible. He’s blissed out, wound up tighter than a spring. You’ve got him begging. But his words grow into admonishments with each successive denial. “You can’t keep doing this, baby. There’s gonna be consequences. Santa’s gonna for real put you on his naughty list. Nothing but coal in your stocking,” he huffs.

You give your mouth a reprieve and stroke him. “Is that all that happens to naughty girls?”

He gnaws at his bottom lip before offering, “You really wanna find out?”

You nod.

The ribbon binding Dean to the headboard shreds with one mighty tug. He pitches the sleigh bell in the air. It jingles as it pinballs around the room. 

You gasp as he cinches those hands under your armpits and drags you up his body. He crushes his lips into yours, tastes you with his tongue. The mixture of your arousal and a hint of peppermint melts you in his arms. Then, a sudden and swift rollover pins you beneath him.

He hovers, tosses your skirt up to your chest, and wedges between your legs. His hard, heavy cock slips into your folds and glides through your wetness. “I could drag this out. Or.” It’s his turn to tease. He notches snug against your entrance. You’re surprised your muscles haven’t pulled him into you of their own accord the way your entire body spasms with need. He whispers in your ear, “Let me be your Santa, baby.”

You gasp, “And hurry down the chimney tonight.”

He groans in victory and slides in, balls deep. He thrusts. One massive hand gathers your wrists together on the pillow above your head to anchor you in place. Fingers of his other hand grip the top of the headboard. Every sway in and out of you gets more frenetic. You’re screaming his name and he’s cursing yours. 

“Good girls do what they’re told,” he states, out of breath, face reddening. His gaze locks with yours. He slows down. Releases your hands. Finds your clit amid the white fur and red velvet. Strums. Angles and hits your sweet spot deep within you with a harsh abandon. “Come.”

Minutes later, after you’ve both orgasmed, you’re curled into his chest. “That was…” you manage between heavy exhales.

“Yeah, that was awesome.” He kisses your forehead. “Every year, since I saved you from that ghost on Christmas Eve, you find a way to outdo yourself with the holiday cheer.”

“Well, you deserve it. I’m glad you can get away for a little while and get a special treat.”

He sighs. “You know, you don’t have to feel obligated to…”

You rest a finger atop his lips. “How I see it. Guy saves your life one time, you owe him the rest of yours.”

He smiles and pulls you in. “How about we just focus on tonight, yeah?”

You nod. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

[that-cryptic-kay]

Smash Bros Banner Redraw Featuring 80+ Artists! Created by SwensonaDesigns

Credits and Links to the Artists Below;

Mario - Xeno

Donkey Kong - ChibiBrugarou

Link - Bumblebees

Samus - Mewy

Dark Samus - Mewy

Yoshi - lo-pi

Kirby - betsysharonx

Fox - Ritzcreation

Pikachu - Paintdust

Luigi - Rosie

Ness - Otakuma

Captain Falcon - PachiJayk

Jigglypuff - BlueRoseTail

Peach - Quasar

Daisy - BunBun

Bowser - Rosiri

Ice Climbers - emilyleart

Sheik - MonsterProductions49

Zelda - Cy

Dr. Mario - cheesecake_bich

Pichu - razz

Falco - AdamRB (No Social Media Put)

Marth - PandaGoyza

Lucina - mayordoi

Young Link - Clioni

Ganondorf - ThePeachyArtist

Mewtwo - MattysAnimeSketchs

Roy - mango-peach-strawberry

Chrom - gingerja

Mr. Game and Watch - Starrydoods

Pokemon Trainer - CF (No Social Media Put)

Meta Knight - VickriArts

Pit - Kay (Kawaii Kaychu)

Dark Pit - gingerja

Zero Suit Samus - Hasenprinzessin

Wario - SwensonsaDesigns (Creator of the Collab)

Snake - Luuzine

Ike - solideryx

Squirtle - doughnutdoodles

Ivysaur - Bumblenbees

Charizard - Fungo

Diddy Kong - Bozobone

Lucas - TravelerCJ

Sonic - HATORI

King Dedede - TheChaoticElian

Olimar + Pikmin - AnthonyRB (No Social Media Put)

Lucario - animedonkey

ROB - PairOfShoes1

Toon Link - betsysharon

Wolf - FoxyStumbles

Villager - Hatty

Mega Man - Sunnie (No Social Media Put)

Wii Fit Trainer - Gungject

Rosalina and Luma - Ishtar

Little Mac - fruitycircus

Greninja - Rosiri

Palutena - Mickeyn

Pac-Man - Concerned Bear (No Social Media Put)

Robin - kayfly

Shulk - Mah

Bowser Jr. - doughnutdoodles

Duck Hunt - cheesecake_bich

Ryu - Lena

Ken - mayordoi

Cloud - Dogwood

Corrin - Kay (Kawaiikaychu)

Bayonetta - Marii

Inkling - Aud.Is.Here

Ridley - Goji (No Social Media Put)

Simon Belmont - Kay (Kawaiikaychu)

Isabelle - Umami (No Social Media Put)

Richter - BunBun

King K. Rool - lapislabel

Incineroar - EmmyLittle

Piranha Plant - Killustrator (No Social Media Put)

Joker - thearkhives_

Hero - GeluTheBabosa

Banjo & Kazooie - Ecalienni

Terry - Skizze

Byleth - KSamuel

Min Min - Aud.is.here

Steve - Vivacious Vixen

Sephiroth - Vahlance

Pyra - tsuneo0

Mythra - Emme Ciela

Mythra 2 - Amara (No Social Media Put)

Kazuya - cringecatnep (No Social Media Put)

Sora - FrenzyFeline

Mii Brawler - Zorrpu

Mii Swordfighter - brittney.florimond

Mii Gunner - Zorrpu

[joodeeboochoo]

Haunting hollow sounds and eerieness! The gorgeous goth vixen Miss Mannequin is at our pink throne. Amongst all the warm pink she is giving you GOTH and DARK VIBES! She has our digital stethescope placed over her chest. Amongst the hollow sounds and dark spirits you....let me crank the volume up...YES! There it is! Her beating heart. Oh she has a fast heartbeat! Guh-gunk guh-gunk guh-gunk guh-gunk! It's just beating away. Enjoy the sounds VIP. 

The captivating goth enchantress, Miss Mannequin, reigns supreme on our plush pink throne. Amidst the sea of rosy hues, she's channeling all those GOTH and DARK VIBES! 🖤👑🌙

With a digital stethoscope placed over her chest, amidst the eerie echoes and shadowy spirits,....let me crank up the volume.... YES! There it is! Her beating heart! Oh wow she has a fast heartbeat! Guh-gunk guh-gunk guh-gunk guh-gunk! 💓💀 It's racing away, a mesmerizing rhythm.

[asterdisaster06]

Strawberry Pie

Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader

summary > The four times Simon helped you, and the one time you helped him.

word count > 2.5k

cw > Serial killer AU. Inaccurate police information + procedures for plot reasons. Allusion to murder + getting away with crimes, yeah, that’s the kind of help (:<

a/n >  inspired by hannibal + “strawberry” by andrew montana

ao3

“How does it look?” A simple twirl following the words accompanying the small smile. Lips painted blood red with a new lipstick. 

“Beautiful love, absolutely stunning,” Simon says with a slow blink, a cat-like behaviour to express his adoration for you.

“I found this sundress while out shopping. And I got my nails done while I was at it! I followed your recommendation,” You answer with a smile as soft as the blanket beneath your rosy fingertips. 

“And the lipstick?” Simon asks, tilting his head. 

“Something I found in college. It’s served me well all these years,” You send a grin filled with sharp teeth towards Simon. His sweet little vixen. 

“Others would call you crazy,” Simon mentions, the teasing tone trailing off as he stares at you intently.

“But?”

“But, I admire your gumption, sweetheart,” Simon says, cupping your face gently in his hands; laying a tender kiss on the tip of your nose.

“You missed,” You remark with a twinkle in your eye.

“Oh did I now?” His voice softened from its usual gruff timbre. 

Simon RIley leans in to kiss your forehead, and then one corner of your mouth to the other, and then finally landed home onto your lips. He didn’t seem to mind the transfer of dye nor the chastising you did because of it. It was messy, it was sweet, it was entirely and so wholefully the two of you with the only disturbance being the gentle breeze shifting the pastel curtains. The ones that Simon insisted on keeping open to let the precious sunlight in - he claims that the way it brushes against your skin is a look into heaven itself. 

“Okay, okay, I really have to go this time. You’ve kept me trapped here like your little Rapunzel for far too long, Simon,” You urgently get out between fits of laughter and giggles alike. 

“So satanic, the way you plan to simply leave the love of your life here to die alone,” Your boyfriend sighs, sagging back into the comfort of the mattress you both were now laying on. Of course, he was being dramatic. As per usual. It would be endearing if it wasn’t so humorous to see the giant of a man turn into a feeble ghost of the soldier he usually is. Price would be proud to see that his subordinate does in fact have some humanity left within himself. 

“Don’t panic. You’ll live, I’m sure of it,” You reply, giving him a sympathetic kiss on the cheek, before getting up.

“Hey love?”

“Yes, Simon?”

“You missed,” Was all he could get out before you rolled your eyes and gave him exactly what he wanted - despite the fact that it made you a minute late. 

. . .

“Welcome to our humble abode,” You smile, giving a sweet little twirl and a flourish of your arms. The team had to admit that it was a cosy little thing out in the sticks. The interior design was no doubt your doing, a cottagecore vibe, considering the fact that Simon was limited to plain walls being his entire experience. Plants here and there, sunlight streaming through the glass paned windows, and pots and pans hanging with their herb friends. 

“Thank you for having us,” Price responds.

“What he said,” Came from the other two. 

“Where’s your lover?” Soap asks teasingly.

“Oh, he’s out in the garden gathering a few last minute spices,” You say, a gentle expression taking over your features at the thought of your love doing so much for you. You see the group share a knowing look and a few chuckles were heard from behind you. A soft reminder is all they need to stop with their shenanigans while you’re cooking. Of course, Gaz offers a helping hand with chopping up various vegetables for the stew and Price had called dibs on doing the dishes. He claims it was the least he could do for the host. Soap on the other hand insists on being the taste tester. A gentle ring of a bell alerts you to Simon coming in from the outside, completely drenched. 

“What happened to you? You look like a stray dog,” You laugh, leaning against the counter. 

“In my defence, it started as a drop before it ended up pouring a minute later,” Simon grumbled, 

“We’ve needed a good shower, wouldn’t you say? Good for the fertiliser,” You say, sending your lover a wink as you scoot over to allow him access to the sink.

A playful eye roll is what you earn in response as he says, “This is what I get for agreeing to hide out in the country.”

“Bite your tongue if you know what’s good for you,” You nudge him good-naturedly. 

“You know I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, love,” He says, facial expression softening into pure adoration. He sends you this look even as he’s scrubbing his hands of the dirt and blood from the garden. The scent of decay quickly running down the drain, tainting the water black. 

“I know. My saviour day in and day out, wouldn’t you say?”

Before Simon got the chance to answer, the timer - the one in the shape of a chicken because Simon just couldn’t say no when you held it up to him with those puppy dog eyes - went off. 

“Your world famous strawberry pie? Again?” You click your tongue and shake your head with a sly smile.

“It’s world famous for a reason, love. And, we have guests that have yet to taste my creation,” Simon grins back at you. 

“Whatever you say, Simon,” You huff out with a laugh. 

Laughter filled the air as the dinner party continued later into the night before it all quieted down with the departure of the boys. A simple contentment washes over the two of you left on the couch, a fleece blanket encasing your figures. Something about it warmed your beating heart as you listened to the rhythm of Simon’s long after you drifted off into unconsciousness. 

. . .

“Simon, you wouldn’t happen to be busy right now, would you?”

“Of course not, love. What do you need?” Simon answers over the phone.

“There was a roadkill accident, and my car isn’t in tip top shape anymore. Do you think you could come pick me up? I’m about two klicks down the road from our house,” You say, your phone tucked in between your ear and shoulder as you slide latex gloves over your hands. 

“As you wish,” Simon’s voice rumbles in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

You drag the corpse into the bushes and thank whoever was listening that the only evidence left was the blood pool. It would be quite a shame if any innocent had to feast their eyes on the remains of the carrion. Vultures would have to find another meal elsewhere - this one was yours. Right on time, Simon’s car reverberated down the gravel lane. 

“I didn’t think you would become so reckless, angel,” Simon chuckles, hopping out of his truck to help you lift the body into the back of his car. 

“I like the word hasty more. It sounds better, don’t you think?”

“Whatever you call it, just remember I’m always here to help clean up your messes.”

“And I you, darling,” You nudge Simon as he opens the car door for you. 

“I should’ve seen it in your eyes when we first started seeing each other. You were trying to warn me,” Simon chuckles, humour lacing his words. 

“I always wanted to be able to see you in the morning, Simon,” You begin solemnly. “I don’t wanna be alone, it’s quite boring, isn’t it?” You shrug. 

“Oh, baby, let me finish. I’m keeping you, you menace. Until the day one of us kills the other,” Simon smiles, giving your hand a tight squeeze. 

“That would be how it ends, wouldn’t it?”

“Of course, there’s no other way,” Simon says, a simple grin on his lips. A rare sight, but a common one with you. And just like the rain, it was washed away just as quickly.

. . .

“Shit, love, did you go after a military man?” SImon asks as he gently wipes away dirt and grime from your face. Your clothes were receiving the same treatment in the washer after you took a shower.

“I somehow doubt her boyfriend got into the military with that weak of a punch. He just got the jump on me. . . and had a pocket knife,” You explain, wincing when Simon brushed over your wounds. 

“That would explain all these lacerations, now wouldn’t it?”

“Actually those were from the girl clawing me half to death. The guy did jack all if I’m being honest. Tried to run like a pussy too,” You laugh, your ribs protesting at the act. 

“Sounds like you did her a favour, showing her the real colours of her boyfriend. A shame she isn’t alive to make a change,” He hums, confidently bandaging your arms and face like he had done a million times before. And like he would continue to do a thousand times over. As he does that you down a cheap whiskey from the bottle to ease the pain. 

“Quite a shame. Almost as much as the fact that I have some cleaning up to do later. They were surprisingly bloody for how little it took to bring them down,” You sigh, raking your hands through your hair before realising your hands were still stained metallic red.

“You just take a shower and leave the rest to me,” Simon says with a quirk at the edge of his lips. 

“What would I do without you?”

“Probably end up in jail.”

“That’s both true and insulting.”

“Whatever you say, love.”

. . .

“Simon? I think it’s time for a change.”

“What colour?”

“You know me so well. I was thinking something colourful this time around, really make the sight a seemly one before they meet their end,” You say, looking in the mirror and preemptively mourning for the identity that would be no longer. 

Not if Simon had any say in it. He had a surprising knack for disguise; although, you suspect that a few missions would require a little bit of magic to make it work. Odd, though, considering it’s doubtful that anyone would be left to tell the tale of the infamous Simon “Ghost” Riley. 

“You just get into the bathroom, I’ll be there soon with the dye,” Simon calls out from across the house. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Not today,” Simon answers.

“Well, I love you very much for all that you do for me,” You say, expressing your thanks.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Simon chuckles, entering the bathroom with all that you could ever need for an identity change. “Although, have you ever considered wearing a mask? Speaking from personal experience, it does make a wonderful impression alongside shielding you from the public eye.”

You hum thoughtfully before responding with, “I have, although I’ve discovered the personal touch makes it all the more better. That, and, I think between the two of us, you pull it off way better than I ever could.”

“If you insist, love,” Simon laughs, the sound reverberating throughout you. 

“It’s the truth, now which colour would suit me better?” You ask, alternating two dyes in your hand and in your favour. 

“Tough question. I fear we might need a second opinion,” He teases. 

“You know me too well, get the team on the phone,” You grin, practically bubbling over with excitement. Some may say you were too enthusiastic given the circumstances, but not Simon. He always supported you in your little hobby and dinner parties - much to your surprise. He was everything that you could’ve ever asked for, and more.

. . .

“Hey, love, are you busy right now?” Simon asks over the phone - a surprising event considering that he was never one for calls. They irked him, verbatim words that make you giggle at the absurdity of all.

“No, of course not, Simon. What do you need?” You ask, slightly busy with cooking dinner but Simon always came first. You did put him on speaker though to make it a little easier. 

“Could you come down to the station? Some stories need to be set straight, if you know what I mean,” Simon almost growls out.

“I’ll be there in five,” You reply, dropping the pleasantries as a dark look overtakes you. 

. . .

“What seems to be the problem, Officer?” You ask, acting the part of an innocent victim.

“Can I get you some water?” Fake pleasantries. Nothing upset you more.

“No thank you. I’d prefer to get this cleared up as soon as possible, sir,” You spit out, decisive and curt with your words. 

“Of course. There appears to be significant evidence that forty-eight hours ago your significant other was put at the scene of a crime near the Lincoln bar. Likely as a perpetrator,” Is what the officer tells you, much to your chagrin. Despite the calm facade that you were putting forth, you were fighting the urge to roll your eyes. You know exactly what happened, exactly who was killed, and the reason behind it was all because of a jealous spat between Simon and a man who had the misfortune of hitting on you in front of the infamous Ghost. He just couldn’t control himself when it came to you.

“I find that highly unlikely,” You say brusquely.

“And why is that?”

“He was at the Lincoln bar, but both myself and three other people were with him the entire night. Here, I’ll write their numbers down,” You say, quickly uncapping the pen on the table. 

“We’ve already checked the surveillance, but thank you for these witnesses. There is a gap of time between 9:31 PM and 9:39 PM that we are awfully curious about.”

“From what I remember, he went to the bathroom,” You answer genuinely.

They continued their line of questioning, asking if you had any connection to the victim, if you had seen anyone suspicious, along with other interrogations that all ended with the classic ‘if you think of anything else, notify us.’ You had high hopes that Simon would be released almost immediately and you were proven right when he walked right out of the building over to where you were on the curb. 

“There’s my saviour,” Simon says, embracing you tightly.

“You haven’t forgotten our promise, right?” You ask with a smile.

“Of course not, love. I simply wanted to show my appreciation, as per usual,” Simon chuckles lightly.

“Be your alibi, and never ask why,” You say, interlocking your pinky with Simons.

“Never ask why,” Simon whispers back, promising it like a vow. 

“The boys invited us out to dinner at Price’s, angel. You feeling up to it?” You ask.

“Always if it involves you,” Simon flirts.

You roll your eyes, replying with, “You menace.”

“You know you love me,” Simon laughs. And you did. So, very, much. 

[roamingleaf]

"A Strangers Note"

TW: Masturbation, Stalking, Blackmail, Humiliation, R@pe,

As the sun was set to retire from its stage staining the cloudless sky and the moon was starting to tint that ocean skyline a violet purple, Aubrey couldn't help but feel exhausted from her long day in the office. Today had seemingly been no different from yesterday, or the day before, or--come to think of it, she hadn't noticed how often the days where starting to blur. Nevertheless, the familiar turn, and click of her apartment door was always enough to put a pep in Aubrey's dainty step.

No sooner could that door swing open, did our drained minx find relief from those dreaded, raven black stilettos.

"Finally!" Exclaimed our worn-out vixen. Surely spent from the avalanche of emails and paper works she had to bravely face. All the while navigating the fields of gazes from far and wide that crept across every inch of Aubrey's curving, almond sun kissed physique.

Once those shackles of modernity had found their way back on to the rack that sat perched by the entrance of her door; the form-fitting maroon skirt that desperately clung to her rolling hills would find a new home on the floor not but mere steps away from that rack thanks to a few well placed tugs. Next came a few buttons of her laced trimmed black button up.

The further away from the bustling herd of the world she got, the more those same worries of the day faded into oblivion. Though, more important work was at hand during this witching hour: That being of how much sweet Chardonnay should grace Aubrey's candied lips.

While the crystal wine flowed like a river over the plush, pastel bluffs of her lips Aubrey couldn't help but notice a breezing, white note seemingly stuck to the bottom of her window. Would it be the curiosity, or the wine, that carried those curvaceous thighs towards the letter. Either way, her fingers had been fast at work unwrapping the maze like note to find it read:

"Good Evening Little One. Did you wear that skirt just for me? You must have known my eyes would be glued to the way your tanned peach so elegantly peaked from beneath that maroon cover. What I wouldn't do to know if It felt as soft as the clouds."

A bright scarlet blush spread across her golden cheeks as she read some admirers savory, brazen testament. By the point that note had come to a conclusion the glass had been emptied, set on the nightstand; as other thoughts started to take root Aubrey knew the pyre that hid deep inside her was starting to be stoked by the thought of this mysterious man.

Before Aubrey knew it, a finger, or two had snuck their way down her sweeping, glowing, canvas as if they were racing to see which would find the sticky, glistening treasure hidden behind a snow white, thinly laced, pair of panties.

"Mnh...What am I doing.." Aubrey questioned as she braced herself for her fingers imminent impact with pleasure. Before any other playful inquiries could escape those lips her whispery, intoxicating moans unsuspectingly slipped out as those dreaded fingers begin their lustful dance across that lace covered stage. At first, it seemed the dance would have to struggle through the smothering, cozy, clamps of pillowy thighs pressing against one another, nevertheless, it wouldn't be long that our scarlet minx would seek a new position.

Resting back against the arm rest, her golden, thick arches were spread like butter for her exploring fingers to continue mapping out the secrets of her sacred shrine. Her little middle finger was sure to trace the slippery outlines of her rosy lips till the drenched juices all but soaked that pattern across the lace covering. As that dreaded index finger, never one to be outshined was hard at work circling her pulsating button. There was no more confusion left in her mind by this point, the wine had fully helped her slip into true bliss.

As this sweet symphony softly hummed through her apartment something sinister was stirring. Stashed off in a closet shrouded by shadow was a man, whose camera was more than eager to capture the tantalizing performance playing out before him.

"F-Fuck..." Muttered Aubrey's tender symphony. This thorough exploration was becoming too much for her shrine to take. Without a second thought, almost if guided by the haunting orchestra of her own echoing moans her pearly panties were pulled to the side. With her sparkling, slippery, cove now exposed to the night her trouble making middle finger was swift to slip between those blushing lips to feel the tightness of her own quivering cove.

Unfortunately for Aubrey, that strange, dark, cameraman took this as a prime opportunity for a better sight of such artwork. The winds carried his legs swiftly from the confines of that closet and down that narrowed hallway. All the while recording every last writhe, squirm, and shake Aubrey made.

Aubrey could feel her stingy shrine clinging hungrily to her thrusting finger, it could only mean one thing; Her climax was all but a few more hungry thrusts away.

"I'm cumming..."

As she proclaimed those two precious words, her finger never stopped its relentless thrust inside that gushing cove. All but forcing her head back from pleasure just to be met with the dreaded reality of a phone camera that was not hers. Despite this shocking realization starting to sink in, that long deserved eruption could not be stopped. Even as Aubrey's shimmering, brown eyes stared in shame into that cold lens her cove would not stop till every last drop was squeezed from it.

"What a fucking Whore."

Those would be the last coherent words Audrey would remember from what was supposed to be a well earned restful evening.

-🪶

[anxious-acorn]

I Turned the Corner 🔞

Chapter 2: A Rosie Among Thorns

Summary: Looking for a distraction, Alastor visits a dear friend.

Days… It had been four. Fucking. Days! Four days of trying his best to get that god forsaken picture show out of his head, and it showed no sign of doing so anytime soon. He had at least kept himself from attempting to watch it again, but now his incessantly nagging thought was of how he might approach the lovely Vixen to strike a deal. He’d managed to keep himself cordial and chipper around the residents, especially when Angel Dust began prattling on about Valentino’s latest obsession with obtaining the vixen’s pelt for a sequel involving sexual intercourse.

“I’m rather curious, my friend! Why is your employer having trouble with that?”

Angel turned to Alastor and gave him a knowing smirk before answering. “Well ya see, Smiles, Vix made a deal with Velvette for her fur and doesn’t want it getting ruined in a shoot.” Well, that made sense. “Those two are besties or somethin’ so that’s why she was wanting it removed.” Angel‘s sly grin widened.

“Knowing Vel, she’ll be wanting fur pretty regular, so Vix will probably be asking for a regular butcher. Those movies will probably become a series… If you’re interested.” The spider wiggled his eyebrows and Alastor felt his heart quicken. So she would be needing a regular butcher to fulfill a deal with a friend. How interesting.

“Ah, alas, my friend, while I do enjoy a good skinning, the… intimacy… is not to my tastes.” His smile was perfectly in place, but his eyes narrowed and his nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Aww, come on, Allie. You know you liked it. I bet you two would actually get along really well together.”

Radio static escaped as Alastor bristled- yes, he may have liked it (very much so, in fact), but that didn’t mean Angel needed to know that.

“Unfortunately, my dear friend, I have to disagree with you there. However I must admit, it’s an intriguing explanation- your costar is quite the unique personality.”

“Unique is definitely a good way to describe her.” Angel laughed as he walked towards the door. “I’m heading to work. Don’t get into any trouble without me,” he winked to Husker at the bar before he disappeared. Husker gave a small grumble, but Alastor noticed a small, sentimental smile tugging on the feline’s lips. Huh. It looked like these wayward souls may be finding connection after all. How sweet.

He sneered before fixing his face to walk up to the bar. “Husker, my good man! A glass of rye, if you will.” He watched in delight as the feline bristled, but went to fulfill his order. He wasn’t usually one to drink during the day, but he could never resist the urge to taunt and grate at the former overlord. He enjoyed putting his conquests in their place, and scaring the ever loving shit out of them when they stepped a toe out of line. Fear is power, and in Hell, the more power one accumulates, the better.

As he made his way down the lane, Alastor reveled in the terror he invoked- demons, large and small, ran from him or doused themselves in flames to respawn. Sure, it could get lonely sometimes, but that’s what he had Rosie for- his darling, dearest friend. He should really visit her again; he had given a small greeting at the last overlord meeting, but it had been a good seven years since he’d had the pleasure of truly getting to enjoy her company. He was bound to receive a stern lecture for neglecting her.

With his mind made up, he made his way to the doomsday district to procure an apology gift for his long absence- as long as he stayed within the constraints of his deal, there should be no problem. Rosie’s favorite gift to receive was hearts- specifically the hearts of cruel men. And Alastor was all too happy to oblige.

As he scanned the streets and dark alleyways, his ears pricked at the distant screams of a woman, and turned to head that direction.

“Please! Somebody help me! Stop it! Let me go, you creep! Help!”

On any other day, the panicked noise the little ram was making would only attract more “creeps”, but today would be her lucky day. Alastor’s sinister grin widened as he stepped out of his shadows to see three goons working to surround her. The poor dear was trembling and doing her best to sink into the wall at her back.

“You know, I really do hate those who can’t show a little more respect to those of fairer means. It’s rather… Distasteful. Don’t you think?” He felt the surge of excitement building in his muscles as the three demons turned to face him, terror and recognition lighting two of the faces. It would seem one of them were unfamiliar with who stood before them- how delightful!

An alligator, a boar and a wolf- a lovely variety for his dear friend! The boar and alligator backed away, throwing their arms up in an attempt to placate the contorting radio demon.

“Hey man, we don’t want any trouble. You can have her! She’s all yours, buddy!” The wolf looked at the crocodile with disbelief and annoyance before going after the woman once more. He could be first, then.

A large black tentacle shot past Alastor’s shoulder and wrapped itself around the wolf’s throat to haul him away from the shaking ram. Two more struck out to halt the gator and boar as he tsked at the fleeing demons, waving his finger in disapproval.

“Ah, ah, ah! It is quite rude to leave when a party is only just beginning.” His eyes flashed black as he brandished his fangs, black gums peeking out with the wide smile as he brought the three demons closer to him.

A guttural scream was heard when he poked a claw through the wolf’s eyeball and plucked it from it’s socket before popping it into his mouth with a hum. ‘Hmm, not bad. But not as good as fish eyes,’ he thought to himself, noticing the little ram sinking to the ground as she stared at the horror in front of her. Good, he’d need her here until his task was finished- the poor dear.

“Please! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I swear!” The wolf cried as he gasped and choked in the tentacle’s hold. Alastor gave a small sigh, wishing he could draw out the torture he really wanted to visit upon the three. Alas, he would need to give them a quick death. He heard the screams of the other two as he shoved his hand through the wolf’s chest, breaking the rib cage and wrapping his hand gently around the still beating heart. He twisted his hand inside the chest cavity before ripping the heart out with a joyful hum.

Before tossing the wolf, he plucked the other eye from his skull and conjured a cute heart shaped gift box lined with butcher paper to place the treasures in. He made quick work of the other two and placed their hearts and eyes in the gift box as well before snapping it into his stasis dimension. It wouldn’t do to gift his darling friend anything but the freshest of treats. He decided at the last minute to snap the alligator into his stasis dimension as well- gator was a delicious meat.

Making his way past the trembling ram, he whistled a jaunty tune and snapped himself clean before heading towards Cannibal Town.

———/////////————-///////////————-///////////

“Oh Alastor, I love them! I suppose I can forgive you- what a lovely gift! Thank you, sweetheart!” Rosie exclaimed from her seat across from him. She pulled out an eyeball and popped it happily into her mouth, dabbing her lacey handkerchief at the juice that escaped her lips. Alastor’s heart swelled with love and pride at the woman’s praise- she truly was a gem among women. Such a darling.

“Of course, sweetheart! You know I wish I could visit sooner, but I’ve been otherwise occupied unfortunately.” He sighed before pointing to his neck and giving her an annoyed roll of his eyes.

Rosie’s obsidian orbs widened as she gave a small gasp, a gloved hand rising to cover her mouth. “No!” He couldn’t help but chuckle at her reaction- this was the juiciest gossip he’d given her in decades, but he could trust her to keep his secrets. “Afraid so,” he confirmed, only half expecting the crushing embrace she enveloped him in.

“I’m sorry, Al. I know how much you value your autonomy, so whatever happened to make you give it up must’ve been a hell of a situation. I’m here for you if and when you wanna talk, okay sweetie?” Alastor’s smile softened as he held her back, giving a small nuzzle to her hair.

“Thank you, Rosie. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can say about it, but just being in your glowing presence is a cool drink of water to this parched throat.”

Rosie playfully slapped his shoulder, cupping her cheek coyly. “Always such a charmer! So, what are you up to nowadays? You know, I got a couple of goons who’ve been lurkin’ around, trying to make deals with some of my girls and I bet they’d love to make the acquaintance of the radio demon, if you feel like a little bit of fun.” Rosie gave him a sharp smile- oh, how he’d missed this woman!

“Well, I couldn’t say no to a lady in need of assistance, now could I?” Alastor rose and bowed to Rosie, hand outstretched for her to take, smile spread wide to match hers. With a hearty laugh, she took his hand and rose to join him.

As they strolled arm-in-arm down Main Street, the two waved and greeted passersby, offering smiles and greetings to the residents of Cannibal Town. He truly did admire Rosie and her leadership skills. Only a couple of decades older than he, the tall beauty had created her own little Heaven in Hell and had such a way about her that made people feel safe and heard. She was so unprejudiced and patient in her manner with others, it was difficult to believe she wasn’t much older than he- even Zestial had formed his self-control and patience over centuries. Rosie was one of the only people who held his trust, and was the only one who held many of his personal and professional secrets. She was completely indispensable.

Closer to the outskirts, Alastor’s ear twitched and he steered Rosie to head towards the voices he heard conversing. He tapped twice gently on Rosie’s wrist and smiled wickedly as she met his gaze. When closing in on the location, he paused in his steps to indicate to Rosie which direction the voices were coming from. They both stepped closer to listen in on the conversation, Alastor giving the closer spot to Rosie- he could hear without any issue.

“Well, I ain’t ever heard of this Valentine you speak of, but you must know that no cannibal would give anyone other than Rosie their soul, much less a dealer of flesh- well, not that kind of dealer at least. That’s not the kind of flesh we desire, dear.”

Alastor grinned as he listened- you gotta love a lady who can cut as well with her teeth as she could with her sharp tongue.

“Huh, you seem to think I’m giving you a choice. And it’s Valentino, doll face. Now, climb in nice n’ easy or I’m gonna start gettin’ mad.”

‘How uncouth,’ he thought with a twitch of his lips as the cannibette began laughing, soft and ladylike. “Oh my! You must be new around here, dear. Either that,” her voice grew dark as Alastor formed behind the shark demon, her eyes looking up to meet his. “Or very stupid,” she finished, and just as the shark reached for her a clawed hand grabbed his shoulder to halt him.

“I believe the lady has given you her answer, however I would appreciate it if you could answer some of our questions.” His eyes began glowing in demented joy at the terrified expression spreading across the shark’s face. The car started trying to move, but sunk as Rosie grabbed the bumper and slammed it into a pothole, both back tires popping under the pressure.

Alastor’s ears pinned for a moment at the noise, but kept his face chipper and relaxed. “Now, what do you say to a nice chat? My friend and I have much to ask.” He pressed his hand flat between the shark’s shoulders and led him to meet Rosie, who now held a struggling weasel by the collar as he tried to run from the giggling woman.

“Oh, come now! I’m offended, sir! You’re lookin’ at the queen cannibette herself- don’t you want to ask me for a ride?” Rosie smiled sharply at the struggling weasel, and he shrunk in his suit, eyes going wide and whiskers drooping. Alastor laughed at the jest before offering his hand for Rosie to take, waving back to the blushing cannibette as his shadows swallowed their small group and deposited them in her second story parlor.

“What the fuck!” / “Look man, we’re just tryin’ ta do our jobs-“

Ugh, the sorriest excuse for hurting fairer beings.

“Aww, who could argue with that? Well in that case, you should be able to understand that as the reigning overlord of this territory, I’m just doing my job.” Rosie’s form began to grow, her face becoming skeletal and fangs lengthening as her neck cracked and bent. Quite the terrifying display; the two demons backed away until they hit a barrier they couldn’t pass. Alastor stayed back politely- Rosie never needed backup, and he loved to witness her cruelty. He would get a turn for some fun when she was finished.

The towering woman crept closer and bent to look down on the trembling demons. “Now, why is Valentino trying to piss on the wrong tree? The demons of Cannibal Town are spoken for.”

“He knows a lot of your residents are hellborn, and just wants to give them a job.” The weasel held his hands up in surrender.

“When looking to recruit new employees, is it not wise to advertise? It looked to me like you were trying to force that young lady into your car. Not a very good business practice, if you ask me. Now, I’m going drop you two back off to your boss’s office, but be warned that any more… recruiting… and you may find yourselves on one of my friend’s broadcasts. Do relay that to your employer for me, lads.” Rosie flicked each demon on the nose and they disappeared in a puff of pink and grey smoke.

“Look at you, showing such restraint! I’m quite impressed, Rosie dear.” Alastor clapped his hands as Rosie took some calming breaths, her form shrinking back to its usual appearance. He walked over to her and pat her back gently- such restraint could only be strategic. His dearest friend wouldn’t have let them go unpunished otherwise. She was sending the vile moth a message- ‘Don’t fuck with Cannibal Town’.

He couldn’t help but wonder about the little vixen, and how Angel had assured him that Valentino was actually scared of her. ‘Stop it. You’re supposed to be visiting your friend,’ he chided himself as he rubbed soothing circles over Rosie’s back. She turned her head to look at him gratefully.

“I’ve really missed you, sweetheart. These walls have really lost some’ a their sparkle without you.” She sighed and leaned into him, and he let her, wrapping his arms around her fondly.

“I’ve missed you too, my dear,” he replied before they separated.

“How about a cup of coffee and a nice steak? I have some lovely cervid sinner in the meat locker.” Rosie clapped her hands together after Alastor nodded happily at her offer.

The two stepped down into her large kitchen and Rosie opened her meat locker to grab out their prospective cuts. She double checked his preference and got to work on tenderizing the meat as Alastor set to chopping up herbs and vegetables. He’d always loved cooking with his mother, and it later translated to his joy in cooking with his friends. They settled into a comfortable rhythm and within an hour they sat back in her parlor, a delicious feast steaming in front of them.

Rosie truly had impeccable taste when procuring meat- the meal was spectacular! They finished dinner with a glass of gin and rye before bidding each other farewell, Alastor humming happily to himself.

As he made his way down the lane, he noticed a group of cannibettes saying their goodbyes outside of a cafe. What caught his attention instantly was the lovely Vixen parting from the group- how had he never noticed her before? ‘Would you have been interested in her before knowing her capacity and desire for pain?’ his shade chittered from within, his essence ruffling with annoyance. Well, he couldn’t deny the shadow’s logic- even when running into her at the butcher’s shop, he’d only thought her pretty and polite at best.

He shadowed himself around the corner so as to put himself in her field of vision before resuming his walk. Time to test some choppy waters- perhaps he could get a better read on her. Keeping his face chipper and his eyes facing forward, he observed the vixen as she turned to make her way to her next destination. He knew the moment she noticed him, a prick of excitement rising in his throat as he did his best to appear calm and unbothered.

He gave her a moment to observe before meeting her gaze and shadowing over to form in front of her. Her steps faltered and he shot his hand out to steady her, his heart skipping a beat as her crimson eyes landed on him. Satan give him strength, she was lovely…

“Good evening, my dear! I was hoping I’d run into you. Our dear friend Angel Dust showed me your work on the picture show- what a performance!” He silently patted himself on the back for his quick thinking; the mention of their mutual acquaintance should help set her at ease- hopefully. He took the time to regard her as she worked to overcome her shock at his sudden appearance.

“Thank you, sir. I’m honored you enjoyed the show,” she smiled demurely up at him, and his breath caught. A voice like honey… What would it sound like over his airwaves? “Wait, you know Angel?”

He nodded excitedly, glad that he’d kept his manners (mostly) around the spider. Wouldn’t want him telling her anything too bad.

“Yes indeedy! Our dear Angel is staying at the hotel I’m hosting now. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? The Hazbin Hotel.” He saw a small spark of recognition in her gaze at the mention of the hotel.

“Is that so? You must be incredibly busy- quite the project to take on,” she replied, her posture relaxing. Good, he wanted her comfortable for what he was about to ask- if he could just muster the courage to do so. It took him a moment before he felt his voice strong enough to form his words.

“Would you like to go to lunch tomorrow? I’d love to pick your brain on your process. It’s positively inspiring how you were able to sit still for an entire flaying without losing consciousness! I must say, I am quite a fan of yours, my dear.” There. He’d done it. Now he would have his answer and be it a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, he wouldn’t have to constantly fret over the ‘what ifs’. He smiled as pleasantly as he could down at her and noticed her expression brighten.

“I would love to! I must confess I’ve been a fan of yours since your debut. I tend to be a late sleeper though, so what do you say to brunch?”

He was taken aback for a moment- how old was this demon, to have been around for his debut? Also, not his best moment, but she seemed to also be a fan of his. Perhaps that’s why she’d been so polite and pleasant at the butcher shop- What luck!

“Brunch would be lovely, dear. Would you prefer to meet somewhere or may I escort you?” She seemed to be taken aback for a moment before giving her answer with a lovely smile.

“Well, if you wouldn’t be opposed, I would love to see this Hazbin Hotel you speak of. Perhaps I escort you to brunch and you escort me home afterwards?” A wonderful compromise! His heart raced in his ears as he held in his excitement.

“Fantastic! What time would work best for you? Say around 11:30? Or perhaps something later?” He noticed a small blush rising in her cheeks as she replied, “11:30 it is.” Was she blushing for him? He was practically vibrating in anticipation. Is this how normal people felt when interacting romantically? Is this how he’d made all those women feel when he’d been alive? He’d definitely need to do some research on the subject, daunting as the task felt.

He did his best not to stare too blatantly as he gave her some directions to the hotel, and they parted ways. He could barely contain his excitement for their date! ‘Not a date. Just two people who admire the other’s work,’ he thought as he shadowed back over to Rosie’s to request a possible table for brunch. If anything went awry, hopefully she would be able to assist him in navigating. And perhaps if all went well, a deal might be struck by the end of the day.

She’d laughed heartily and teased him for “being so adorable, asking for a chaperone”. No matter. If it earned him her assistance, he’d happily let her taunt him for the rest of their eternity.

He shadowed himself home and picked up a romance novel- one of many Rosie had gifted him over the years as jokes. He could of course always fall back on his moves from his living days, but who knew how well that worked today? No, he definitely needed to update his flirting. Although, her being an older demon, she may find his outdated attempts flattering. The night passed slowly as he read book after book, taking down notes when he found something appealing and sneering when he found something distasteful. He was determined to be prepared for tomorrow, no matter what happened. It was nights like tonight that he was very glad he never felt the need for sleep, although he doubted he’d be able to even if he did.

When finally he had filled half of his notebook, he felt more prepared, but also more anxious. He passed the rest of the evening running through his bayou, hunting down and devouring any prey he could find with his shadow. The morning could not come soon enough for either of them.

[anjuschiffer]

Even with Time Traveling, the Fates Will Still Laugh at Your Face

Do I have WIPs to work on? Yes. Did I see Coffee was hosting another Hanahaki Hour and decide to write for it? Absolutely. Do I know self control? No I do not, so here is Day 1 for Hanahaki Hours 2024: "We don't all have happy endings"/Poppy/Revival as requested by @the-coffee-fandom

Enjoy :D

-

Thank you Veggie and Coffee for beat-ing this fic!

Tags: @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha

AO3

To think he would actually find his younger self the minute he stepped out of Fluff’s portal.

Before he could even explain his presence, Robin started to attack him, about to call Batman for backup only to end up muttering a “Second chance”. 

He held in a smirk as he heard Robin yell a “what the fuck” when he realized Jason was now in behind him instead of getting elbowed in the groin.

“Robin.” Jason said sternly, tipped off at the fact that he just addressed his younger self.

When Robin held his guard up, Jason couldn't help but be both pleased and hurt. Pleased because that means Robin didn’t let his guard down around anyone, even those who knew Robin. Hurt because, damn. Did he really look unfriendly in a fucking rabbit themed outfit? 

Well, not completely rabbit themed. The slightly plunging v neck of a sweater didn’t exactly sell rabbit theme. “Listen, I’m not going to hurt you. I just…I want to chat.”

Oh god, did he really say that right now?

“You say you’re not going to hurt me, but how can I trust you?” Robin asked, a batarang pointed towards him. “I don’t know you.”

“Because I’m you. From the future.”

“You could be lying for all I know.” 

“Then ask me something only you would know.”

“How about you tell me something only I would know then. It should be easy for you if you’re from the so-called future.” Robin countered, Jason noticing a smirk threatening to form.

Oh, was that how it was going to be?

“Remember that gala you went with Bruce last month in Paris because he didn’t want you patrolling Gotham without him?”

“Yeah? What about it?” Robin wasn’t going to like this.  

“You met a girl over there. What was her name again? Wasn’t it Marinette or something like that?” Jason held in a snort as he saw his younger self stiffen at the sound of Marinette’s name, noticing how his cheeks and the tips of his ears burnt pink.

Damn. Was he this obvious about his crush on her? No wonder Bruce and Alfred liked teasing him about her. Oh. Is that why Dick kept calling him Rosy Cheeks at one point?

“Wh-what about her?”

“Oh nothing…just that you have a crush-”

“She’s just a friend!” Robin shrieked out, throwing the batarang towards Jason who dodged it with ease. “A very good friend at that!”

“Yeah,” Jason found himself agreeing, smiling at the thought. “Mari really is a good friend of ours, isn’t she?”

Robin blinked a few times to make sure he was indeed seeing a soft smile on the man who said was his future self. It looked just like the type of smile Bruce would have whenever he remembered a nice memory or after spending a full day at an amusement park with him. 

Robin watched as the man sat down on the roof, patting the place next to him. Robin sat next to him, only then really realizing how big his future self was. He was taller than Bruce and Bruce was tall. Like, tall tall. But what really took the cake was how muscular he looked. He bet his future self could easily throw criminals around like sacks of rice!

“So you really are an older version of me from the future, huh.” Robin asked his older self.

But because he was so close to him, his older self’s choice in clothing caught his attention.

Robin looked at his older self from top to bottom. “What’s with the outfit choice? A shirt like your- wait. It’s not a jacket? I thought it was a jacket.” Robin found himself trying to open up his older self’s ‘jacket,” only then realizing it was a sweater with a plunging v neckline. “Is this an actual part of our vigilante outfit? A plunging v neck? Seriously?” He asked in disgust only to wrinkle up his nose. “Holy shit, did Dick’s Discowling outfit  influence us? Oh god, it did, didn’t it?”

“Oh God no squirt.” Jason replied, revolted by Robin’s conclusion. “This outfit is just…temporary. My usual outfit looks way better than this one. And for your information, we’re waaay cooler than Dick.” Jason answered with a smile, Robin’s eyes lighting up upon hearing this. “But you should cut down on the cursing. Pretty sure Bruce already warned you about it, am I right?” Robin grumbled at those words, Jason hearing a ‘so does Alfred’ somewhere in those grumbles. 

Damn. 

He really was an unfiltered child, wasn’t he? Then again, this was around the same time he was still getting used to living with Bruce and being Robin. Getting used to being just that- a kid. 

“So, I know you can’t talk too much about the future because of paradoxes and stuff but-“ Jason watched as his younger self thought about his next words. He looked around as if to make sure no one was listening over them. Or maybe he was hesitating due to the matter of his next sentence. “Are we okay? Are we, you know, happy? What about everyone else?”

“I changed my mind. I was still fucked up as-“

“Why are you allowed to curse and I’m not? You’re practically me! Scratch that, you are me!”

Should he let his younger self know he’s technically not this timeline’s Jason? Should he tell him that he was the original Jason and that his younger self is a completely different Jason from a different point in time?

Jason internally sighed.

What kind of question was he asking himself?

“Not exactly.” Jason ended up answering, looking out towards the city skyline, wondering where Bruce was at the moment. Would he recognize him like this? “And to answer your question: we don’t all have happy endings.”

He watched his younger self become serious and if he paid attention, he could see the way his lower lip quivered a bit before calming down. 

“Is that why you’re here? Are you here to warn me about something bad that’s going to happen later on in the future?”

“Nope.” Jason threw his hands in the air. “ You said it yourself. It would create a time paradox if I did.”

“You talking to me-  shouldn't that have already made one?”

“Nope.”

“How can you be so sure? There are many theories that suggest that even talking with an alternate version of yourself can create paradoxes. Sure, talking might not seem like much, but some scientists agree that even walking past your past self will alternate a future ever- 

Oh, that’s how you know…this isn’t your first time, is it?” Robin gasped, surprising Jason at how fast he managed to piece things together. 

He was a perceptive little shit, wasn’t he? “We can time travel? How many times did we time travel? Did WE invent the tech to do so? Can we do it freely or is there like, a limit to-”

“Wayne Enterprises has yet to make a tool that would allow us to time travel.” Jason cut Robin off. “That being said, there are people who can time travel at free will.” 

Some are even villains he wanted to add but decided to keep it to himself. 

“And we’re one of them?”

“Villains? No. Able to time travel freely? Not exactly by choice.”

“Is it related to our vigilante work?”

“Nope.”

“No?” Robin frowned, furrowing his brows as he thought. “So, personal?”

“And you’ll never guess why.” Jason internally smirked as he watched Robin think of an answer.

“For fun?”

“Because of a girl.” Jason laughed as his younger self wrinkled up his nose and started to gag. 

“Eww, a girl? We time traveled because of a girl?”

“Remember how I said not everyone has a happy ending? I was traveling to stop something from happening to her…”

“Oh…then she must be someone very important to us then.” Robin concluded, Jason watching as Robin stared off into the distance. “How bad is it? Is she dying? 

Is it our fault?” Oh all the things Robin had to say, did he have to say something that hit too close to the truth? “It is, isn’t it?”

“No.” Jason managed to croak out, feeling a lump form in his throat before it went away. He rubbed his eyes a bit to get rid of the stinging in his eyes. “It wasn’t our fault. It wasn’t her fault either. But it was destined to happen anyways.”

“Was that the case in every timeline you went to?”

“They all ended up that way.” 

“So there’s nothing we can do to help her?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“I see.” The two sat there in silence until what sounded like a toaster timer rang, Robin watching as his older self took out a pocket watch and sighed. 

“Seems like my time is up.” Jason said as he tried to get, feeling a tug on his wrist.

“What else can you tell me about the future?” Robin asked, but Jason knew all too well that look. 

Don’t go.

“I can’t say much else lad, but I’ll just tell you one more thing.” He ruffled Robin’s hair. “Don’t act so tough, okay? Bruce, Alfred and Dick are there for a reason. Say what’s on your mind, okay?” 

Robin watched as Jason brushed himself off and opened a portal. “And that goes for Mari too, okay?”

Jason waited for Robin’s response, feeling the portal wane behind him. Robin lowered his gaze.

“Alright.” Robin promised, lifting his head back up. “I’ll try to be more honest with her too.”

“And don’t go on solo missions on your own, alright. Because, trust me, getting revived doesn’t look as easy as in video games, okay?”

“Revived? What does- hey! What- wait!” Robin’s voice stopped Jason from going further into the portal. “Why did you really come here?”

Jason looked at his younger self one last time.

Should he tell him the truth? 

It’s not like he will see him again.

“I just wanted to see if Bruce was right about me being a little piece of shit.” Jason said with a grin, not waiting for Robin’s response.

Stepping out of the portal, Jason’s foot made contact with his living room floor. 

“Counter clockwise.” Jason muttered, but the minute the transformation dropped, he was overcomed by a migraine, Jason having to walk to the nearest chair only to collapse to end up on the floor. 

He cradled his head as the migraine worsened, Jason pushing himself off the floor, shutting his eyes to stop the room from spinning around him. 

Once the symptoms cooled down, he was hit by another and this time, it wasn’t from the side effects of time traveling.

This time, it was from his fucking chronic illness.

Immediately, Jason felt his throat swelling up and locked itself, Jason quickly picking himself up and rushing himself to the nearest trash bin. He sat himself beside it, hacking whatever was clogging his throat. 

Four minutes passed and nothing, Jason knowing he had to get this out fast, the edges of his vision blurring. He watched as tiny orbs started to appear in his vision, which was not a good sign.

He made a fist and placed it between his ribcage and navel, making sure his thumb was outside his fist. With his other hand, he jabbed his fist into his upper abdominal area, attempting to dislodge whatever was suffocating him. 

He did this several times until he felt something loosen up, feeling bile rise up his throat. Jason listened as a heavy load hit the bottom of the can with a thud, Jason coughing up saliva as his vision started to clear up, only then seeing the culprit of his almost second death.

Bloody poppy petals. 

Jason wiped off the saliva that dripped from the corner of his mouth, heading to the bathroom to rinse out the bile taste from his mouth.

As he brushed his teeth, a petal accompanied the foamed up toothpaste, Jason staring at the blasted thing. He walked away from the bathroom, deciding it was just best to sleep it off. 

Yeah, this should all be behind him by tonight.

That’s when his phone went off.

“Jason! I’ve been trying to-”

“If this is about the wedding. I’m not go-”

“You can’t just not come to my wedding Jason! You’re my best friend! I can’t -”

“Mari.” Jason stopped her, feeling something start to form in his throat. Oh. It was happening again. “I…I can’t go. I know what this wedding means to you, but I can’t-”

“If this is about having to watch over Gotham again-“ he heard her let out a heavy sigh. “-you can’t keep making excuses to not-”

“Marinette. I don’t think you understand. It’s not that I can’t make it because of my job as a vigilante but be-” Jason let out a cough only for it to get worse when he tried to suppress it. 

“Jason? Hey, are you alright? Jason? Jason? Oh god. Jason, are you-”

Jason hung up and focused on the situation on hand, coughing as he searched his room for an all familiar red container. 

Jason continued to cough as his eyes finally landed on a white cross logo and quickly flung the container open and yanked out a fluorescent white vial. He quickly attached it to a needle and stabbed himself with it, feeling the swelling of his throat subside.

He closed his eyes as he felt his body slowly return to its regular rhythm. He dared to open them when he was no longer heaving for air. 

“Jason, listen to me. This is the last serum we were able to successfully make. Last one. And once you use this one…your body will get used to it just as quickly as its previous versions…

Jason, we can’t keep making stronger dosages…they’re going to kill you just as fast as your illness already is.

Jason…you’re suffering far too much for something that can easily be removed with-”

Leslie’s words rang in his mind as dragged himself into bed, the adrenaline in his system starting to wear off, his body catching up on the soreness his vomiting had left behind. He groaned with each breath he took, his diaphragm reminding him the severity of it all. 

Not like it was anything new.

If he had been able to survive all these symptoms for the past decade, what’s another one? Oh right…he doesn’t have that time…

His condition had turned for the worse ever since he started wielding Miraculi to help Mari take down Hawkmoth….

He was in his final stages…

Damn…he’s only in his late twenties…

“Jason.” Fluff spoke up, Sass right next to her. “How are you feeling? Should we get Marinette to come and heal-”

“We promised to keep this a secret Fluff.” Sass reminded her, flying up to Jason, placing a paw on his forehead before quickly retracting it. He turned to Fluff with a worried face. “His life force is fading Fluff. Jason, we need to let Marinette-”

“No.” Jason retorted. “She’s busy…making sure everything is perfect…for the wedding…”

“Jason, we can’t let you di-”

“I just need to sleep it off…all that time traveling…made me tired…” Jason let out a weak laugh. 

All that sneaking around and bribing the Kwami’s…all that time traveling and for what? 

He couldn’t get the ending he wanted. 

No matter what decision he made on his end or what event he changed to get his past self to reconnect with Marinette…

It was all for not…

It didn’t help to find out that it was his stubbornness as a kid that caused him to develop a rare condition where one would spit out filaments of blood in the shape of flower petals. 

And not just in one timeline, oh no…in every. single. one…

A condition with no treatment besides a risky surgery to remove blood vessels that grew over the heart and greatly resemble plant roots. A surgery where the most common side effect was memory lost. More specifically the loss of memories of the person you loved most…

“-not good Sass. We need to get Marinette, and now!”

“Jason…hang on just a bit longer, okay? We’re going to get Mari, okay?”

“Hmm,” was all Jason was able to say as he felt the soreness in his body become tiredness, feeling his eyelids grow heavy. Maybe…maybe he should just rest his eyes for a bit…

Yeah… for just a bit…

Maybe he wouldn’t feel this tired if he had just listened to the Kwami in the first place. They had already warned him that it was impossible to change the fates already written in the stars…

That he wasn’t destined to be with Marinette…

And now he knew he didn’t…

He saw the fate that awaited her in all the timelines where he thought he succeeded in being with her: death.

Death caused a tragic accident, a power struggle over the Miraculous or from the same illness that was killing him now…

Maybe that’s why he was okay with his fate now.

He couldn’t bear to think of causing Marinette any harm when all she had ever been to him was kind.

Feeling himself drift further into slumber, Jason thought of his younger self, glad to be able to see his younger self before returning home.

At least he was able to take one more thing off his bucket list before he had to return Fluff and Sass back…

Fluff…Sass… he forgot to thank them for going with his selfish decisions…

He should’ve apologized for taking advantage of their own love for Marinette.

Marinette…

He found himself smiling as he remembered what she looked like in her wedding dress she picked out just a few weeks ago.

At least she will be happy after he’s gone.

Jason!

Oh. Someone was calling him. 

Jason! 

Jason tried to open his eyes, but his tiredness wouldn’t let him. They’ll probably stick around. Or if it’s Dick, he usually would. 

He’ll just see him in the morning.

With that, Jason let his mind go quiet, the beating of his heart slowly drifting into the silence that succumbed to him.

-

“Jason!” Marinette screamed, stepping out of Kaalki’s portal, rushing to Jason’s pale body. “Jason, wake up!” 

One minute she was panicking over Jason’s sudden coughing followed by him hanging up. The next, Fluff and Sass flew right up to her, holding in tears as they gave her the news of Jason’s condition.

He was dying.

She quickly ordered Kaalki to open a portal, needing to see it for herself.

She saw him just a few weeks ago.

He was fine! He was up and about, healthy as a horse!

He helped her choose her dress, the bridesmaid’s dresses, his suit for the wedding! He was standing on his two feet perfectly fine…why, how was he on the verge of death?

Marinette didn’t expect to see him passed out on his bed, his face as pale as a ghost. 

“Jason?” She had called out and when she didn’t get a response, didn’t see the rising and sinking of his chest, she became worried.

It wasn’t until she got closer to him and tried to wake him up that she knew he was leaving her. His soul was fading fast.

“Jason!” She yelled, trying to shake him awake, trying to ignore the way he felt cold to the touch. “Jason, you need…you need to wake up!”

She decided to look for a pulse. “Jason, don’t go! I still need you!” She found nothing. 

Who was going to remind her to take a breather? Who was going to be there at 3 am, helping her calm down after a nightmare from her heroine days? Who was going to tell her that everything was going to be alright? “Jason.”

He was gone.

Her best friend…

Marinette let out a wail, collapsing to her knees as she began to cry her heart out.

He promised to be there! He said he’d be there! He pro-

Marinette began to cough, wondering if maybe her throat was sore from all the crying, irritated from all the scream. It wasn’t until she realized that this coughing felt off. 

Something was stuck in her throat.

Marinette continued to cough until she decided to take matters into her own hands. 

Reaching for a trash bin nearby, she forced herself to gag, when she felt bile rise to her mouth, disgusted by its sour taste. 

She let herself catch her breath and when she did, she was embarrassed at knowing she was choking on her own spit. Really? Spit? Wait…what was that swimming in her saliva?

Curious, Marinette reached for it, watching as her saliva dripped off of it as she brought it closer to herself. Without a doubt, Marinette knew what it was…but how was it possible?

How did she cough up a poppy petal? 

And…what did it mean?

-

Fluff and Sass looked at the poppy petal in horror, looking at each other, wondering what they should do.

At who they should be angry at.

Because this wasn’t fair. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

Not in this timeline.

One of them had to be happy. Just one.

For Kwami’s sake, they lived through all of the other timelines, watching as their favorite humans died for the sake of the other’s happiness! Jason sacrificed his own for Mari’s just moments ago!

So why her? Why does Marinette have to suffer too?

Wasn’t taking Jason enough? 

But they knew nothing could be changed.

If it was the will of the Fates, then so be it…

If all they could do was just support her, then so be it. 

They’ll make sure to protect and love Mari as much as Jason did. 

It was all they could do to honor his death… even if it was done in vain.

[worldhistoryfacts]

There was a surprising amount of anti-forest-fire propaganda during World War II:

{Buy me a coffee} {WHF} {Medium} {Looking Through the Past}

Why was the American government so worried about forest fires? And what did this have to do with Bambi and Smokey the Bear? Click below to find out:

[edgessunflower]

Day 4 Peonies: Beauty in everything

Pairing: Chyna x Fem reader

Description: You remind Chyna that she's beautiful in and out and beauty is not just for certain people

Chyna had never truly felt beautiful but god she knew you were and always wondered how she got lucky to have and love you but you always remind her that fate had it's ways and brought the two of you together. She is brought out of her thoughts when you walk in her locker room carrying something in your arm giving her a bouquet of Peonies all different colors and beautiful giving her a soft kiss with the sweetest smile "What's this for?" you wrap your arms around her as she blushes a rosy pink at the action "To remind you that you're always beautiful inside and out" her heart swells and tears form in her eyes caressing your face before pulling you into a tender kiss "Beauty isn't just for the people that everyone says are beautiful for certain things, beauty is in and for everybody no matter what beauty is in everything" she melts from head to toe with love realizing not only were you right about everything to do with beauty but just how unlimited and boundless the love you had for her was in this emotional sweet moment between the two of you before walking to the ring. After her promo and two matches you go to the ring for your highly awaited match against Ivory rolling your eyes at her rant before the crowd was pissed "And I can't wait to show how much of a vixen you are" before you could attack her chyna's theme plays turning to see her walking down the ramp with rage in her eyes "Ivory didn't I say that you could trash talk me all you want but to leave my girl alone?" you swing and hit her with a clothesline going into a full on attack letting out all the anger for the things she did to you, chyna, and your friends who had to deal with RTC and their bullshit for too long that no one deserved to have to deal with "One thing you don't know is that there's beauty in everything and everyone just the way they are and things are" chyna pulls you into a warm hug backstage noticing the same look in your eyes that she's had when she felt hatred toward herself "You're beautiful in and out more than you know" nothing else was said as you hold each other in her locker room sticking a peony in her hair before heading out to dinner together right after Raw finished up.

[f1uckinghell]

lots of stuff sucks atm, and I am trying to make christmas nicer for myself, so have this unashamedly self-indulgent, happy, joyful snippet. And feel free to send asks if you want. I’ll try to write some more prompt fills over the next few days as well.

_____

"Who was your first kiss?" Charles leaned back with a vixen-like smile, stirring his cocktail with a languid motion, "Come on, you can tell us now. We already know all your other secrets."

Lando felt his cheeks grow hot. "No, it's too embarrassing!" It really wasn't that bad if he was quite honest, but he just liked to put on a show for the attention.

"Aww come on, Lando!" Max's cheeks had a healthy flush, but his was caused by having half a gin and tonic. Lando giggled and hid his face in his hands until Max touched his arm with a laugh.

"What if we go first?" he suggested, and that did in fact pique Lando's attention.

"...maybe."

Charles huffed out an easy laugh. "You go first, Max."

„You already know who it was,“ Max said, giving Charles a grin. Charles narrowed his eyes at him. „Not me!“ he huffed, feigning offense.

„No, not you,“ Max agreed, „Although we can pretend it was you.“

„Who was it, then?“ Lando asked, curiously wiggling in his seat.

„Martin, my friend,“ Max said, „My neighbor from when my parents still lived together.“ Max paused dramatically, then added, „In middle school.“

It wasn’t even that funny, but they just burst out laughing anyway. „That does NOT count!“ Lando exclaimed, „You were literally a baby.“

Max was laughing into his cocktail, cheeks even more rosy than before now. Charles clicked his tongue. „Took you long enough after that to figure out you’re not as straight as your Dad wanted you to be.“

Max snorted, „Yeah, took me exactly until you had your hands on my tits for the first time.“ Charles gave him a smirk and reach out to cup Max’s chest, balancing his glass with the other hand, then leaned over to kiss him. Lando watched the wet, messy slide of their tongues against each other for a moment, before giving a needy little whine- no chance they were allowed to forget about him now.

Charles pulled back, but not without giving a sultry purr by Max’s ear. „Mine was Pierre,“ he announced, crossing his legs and hooking one of his ankle around Lando’s pulling him closer somehow.

„That’s so boring!“ Lando complained, followed by a little „Hey!“ when Charles used that same ankle to kick him lightly.

„It’s not boring, it’s romantic!“ Max objected.

„It wasn’t that romantic,“ Charles inclined his head, „We were like… thirteen maybe, and wanted to know what kissing felt like. So I kissed him, and then ran away.“

Lando and Max both aww’ed; the idea of Charles being so shy was almost absurd now.

„I can say he’s gotten a lot better at it since,“ Charles smirked, taking a sip of his cocktail.

„I sure hope so,“ Max snorted.

„Your turn now, Lando.“ Charles turned his gaze on Lando, eyes raking over his face.

Lando sighed dramatically, crossing his arms for show. „It’s boring.“

„The more you try not to say it, the more curious he will poke you for it,“ Max said, nodding towards Charles who sat there, watching Lando with an impish grin.

Lando chewed on his bottom lip for a second. „…it was a guy from school I liked. He was like… the hottest guy in school, and everyone liked him, and I guess he was kind of into me… he asked me if he could be my boyfriend, and we kissed under the bleachers.“

Charles groaned. „Your life is literally a teen movie.“

Lando let out a dismissive noise. „I realized really quickly that I didn’t like him enough for kissing, so I broke up with him I guess. He texted me for three months after, and even wrote me love letters, put them into my locker an’ all.“ He clicked his tongue dismissively. „Pretty annoying.“

Max and Charles exchanged an incredulous glance. „Our hot little girlie next door heartbreaker,“ Charles commented, leaning back on the sofa.

„I don’t think it was thaaat bad,“ Lando objected, making a face, which prompted Max and Charles to exchange another Look.

„Not much has changed since then,“ Max said with an idle laugh.

[little-journeys-fic]

So how is the babysitting search going?

Husk: We managed to find one!

Rosie: Where are the little dears? *Has come with gifts for the kids*

Husk: Hi Rosie. Thanks again for coming on short notice.

Rosie: Oh I'm happy to help! I brought them each a handmade toy! *Pulls out five soft toys: a yellow cat, a pink butterfly, a brown horse, a grey mouse and a green frog*

Angel: *Carrying the twins as the triplets toddle behind him* Aw, Rosie! You shouldn't have!

Rosie: Aw! Look at the darlings!!!!

Roulette: Dada? *Hiding behind Angel's leg*

Domino: Horsey!!! *Has spotted the toys*

Vrai: FROG! *Only has eyes for the frog*

Vixen: Mouse!!! *Sees the mouse*

Jade: Kitty!

Husk: Well, seems they like the toys. *Chuckles*

Angel: Rou, you want the butterfly?

Roulette: *nods, watching her siblings go for the other plushies*

Husk: Rosie, she's a bit shy. Oh! And here. *Hands Rosie Roulette's inhaler* If she starts coughing a lot just give her this.

Rosie: Understood. Go have fun, you two!