#trick or treat give me something good to eat if you don’t I don’t care I’ll pull down your underwear

[anymphundermoonlight]

[trick] or [treat]

[reignpage]

I think that Sukuna position is just called “the Christian grey” or “the freak” or some shit 🙂‍↕️

also… if we (me) are in a horny mood this early in the morn, might I suggest jjk men as subs? yes, even Toji and Sukuna 😚 humor me plz i feel like even their alpha male selves would let out a whimper or two after finally letting their partner top

no pressure to ofc if you don’t want to! Have nice day! 💕💕

a little busy writing a couple things rn so made this quickly just with the main 6 jjk guys

Gojo:

the type to want to try everything so he knows for sure he doesn't like it so would be curious as to what it's like to be at someone else's mercy would probably take form in him being on all fours, naked, being spanked by a paddle he thinks it's funny but then five spanks in and he's starting to feel it, his dick starts throbbing and he's leaking all over himself, balls painfully swollen it'll become a rare treat, birthdays and anniversary tradition "we're only on 13? fuck baby, let's go to 20. come on, I can take it. I'm the strongest after all. give it all you got for me, okay?"

Geto:

you have to work for it lol but if somehow you've managed to beg him for it, maybe by being really good for a long time, then he'll kneel in front of you, letting you pull his hair to guide him to your pussy so can ride his face degrade him, remind him that he's worshipping you and not the other way around tell him he's not doing a good enough job and he'll go wild trying to prove you wrong "so every time you've been told off, this is what you've been imagining? your perfect revenge? hmm, well let me make my girl's fantasy come true"

Choso:

more often than not the sub maximum sub = making him wear a collar and leash but if you wanted to switch things up and make him the dom (which is actually the ultimate form of being a sub) then he'll be so lost and confused trying to grapple with the change he'll keep asking if he's doing it right but once he realises he can truly do whatever he wants then he'll punish you for all those times you've been mean to him by making you ride his shoe or his thigh, fucking your throat without care basically just replicating the things you've done to him cause he wants to know how it feels for you, so he can do a better job next time "remember when you fucked your dildo the entire night and all I was allowed to do was watch and beg? it's my turn tonight. you're going to beg to let me put it in, okay?" and then whispers 'please?'

Toji:

this is just so far-fetched I'm crying let's say, he's fucked up forgot an anniversary or something and you're on the edge of breaking up/divorcing he'll have to pull all his tricks and eventually he gives you his body to take out your anger and disappointment then you tie him up, oh yeahhhhh tie him up REAL good so the freak doesn't break out of it and then EDGE HIM make yourself cum again and again whether by yourself or on his face or cock but don't let him CUM PLEASE BETTER YET, ride him and just as you're about to cum, pull out and rub yourself to an orgasm so you can deprive him of the privilege of feeling your pussy clench and flutter around his cock don't let him cum at all tbh he'll be driven to tears "ma, come on, am fucking sorry. just cum yeah? ride my cock. wanna feel you cum, wanna say sorry to my girl."

Nanami:

he's happy to please make him eat you out under your desk so he's kneeling and pushing his face in between your thighs as far as he can go pull him by his tie oh and even better if you're rubbing his cock over his trousers with your foot clad in tights "honey, please. our lunch break is almost over, let me make you cum. forget about me, I just want to make you feel good. don't worry about the mess, I'll clean you up real good."

Sukuna:

it'll take miracles for his happen only way is if you've earned his respect by proving your strength slay a strong sorcerer or curse and he'll deem you worthy of dominating for one night it'll be in his throne room with you sat on the throne, forcing him to kiss your feet and when he's leaking pre tell him if he wants to put it inside he'll have to prove himself worthy by putting on a good show "this is an egregious misuse of my talents. once I am inside, you will regret your arrogance, woman. no, I am not enjoying the feeling of my curse mouth sucking on my tip. your mouth feels much better...my queen."

[kazuhahalol]

creep | jeff the killer x f! reader

you’re a straightforward girl living a straightforward and quiet life. So why does this smiling maniac insist on kidnapping you?

warnings: kidnapping, threatening

Disclaimer: Everyone is welcome on my page and I will not turn you away. However, it is your fault if you’re uncomfortable or peeved with my writing because I give multiple warnings prior to my content. thanks!

You were a good girl. You got pretty good grades, never skipped class, never snuck out, and most importantly never did drugs. You were focused on your gpa, the college you’re applying to having an acceptance rate of 20% with the desired gpa being 4.0. What else could be more important than that?

Surely not your best friend’s Halloween party. Your friend, Lindsey, was hosting a Halloween party the night of Halloween because she insisted trick or treating was for kids. You hadn’t planned on going, or going out at all for that matter. Staying inside and eating the night away was more than you could ask for.

But when she started shedding the crocodile tears is what got you. Lindsey has many friends yet for some reason continuously begs you to attend her party. Of course, being the good friend you are, you say yes. Big mistake. The bitch ditched you once more people started filling her house.

You sighed, leaning against the wall in Lindsey’s overcrowded living room, the music vibrating through your bones. The strobe lights flashed like a warning, illuminating strangers dressed as skeletons, devils, and things much worse. You didn’t belong here. You never had.

You glanced at your phone again. No messages from Lindsey. Of course. She’d dragged you here, begged you to come, and now she was too busy entertaining half the school to care that you were alone. Typical.

Sliding out the front door, you welcomed the cold, quiet night. The sharp air hit your skin, waking you from the haze of too much noise and too many people. You wrapped your jacket tighter around yourself and started walking home, the sound of your boots on the pavement the only thing keeping you company.

It was late. The streets were empty, the only light coming from a few flickering streetlamps. You moved quickly, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling crawling up your spine.

Then you heard it.

Footsteps.

You froze, straining your ears. They were faint, but steady, echoing in sync with your own. Turning your head slightly, you glanced over your shoulder. The street behind you was empty, shadows stretching long and deep into an abyss.

“Hello?” you called out, hating how your voice trembled.

No answer. Just the sound of your heart pounding in your chest. You quickened your pace, your breath coming in short bursts.

The footsteps grew louder. Closer.

“Stop following me!” you shouted, spinning around.

That’s when you saw him.

A man emerged from the shadows, his gait slow, deliberate. He wore a white hoodie covered in disgusting stains that hung off his lean frame. His face was a nightmare. Waxy, scarred skin stretched tight over sharp cheekbones, as if it had melted and hardened in the wrong places. His lips were thin and cracked, pulled into a twisted mockery of a smile that exposed yellowed teeth. His eyes gleamed under the hood—wild, bloodshot, and empty all at once.

Most disturbing was his hair—or what was left of it. Patches of uneven, brittle strands clung to his scalp, the rest of his head marred by burn marks and deep scars.

“You should’ve stayed at the party,” he rasped, his voice low and guttural, like gravel scraping against metal.

You stumbled back, panic clawing at your chest. “I—I don’t have anything! Just take whatever you want!”

His smile didn’t falter, but something dark flickered in his eyes. “Oh, it’s not about what I want. It’s about what I need.”

He lunged.

You turned to run, but he was fast—faster than anyone his size should’ve been. His hand clamped onto your wrist like a vice, yanking you backward with so much force that you hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from your lungs.

“Let me go!” you screamed, kicking and thrashing.

His grip tightened, his nails digging into your skin as he loomed over you. Up close, the smell of burnt flesh and something metallic hit you, making your stomach churn.

“Stop struggling,” he growled, his voice sharp and cold. “It won’t help.”

You clawed at his face, desperate to break free, but he caught your other arm and pinned it down with terrifying ease. His strength was inhuman, like he was made of steel beneath his scarred skin.

“You’re ruining my night,” he hissed, his smile dropping as he hauled you to your feet. “But don’t worry. You’ll make it up to me.”

Before you could scream again, he shoved something over your head—a rough, foul-smelling sack. Darkness swallowed you whole.

You kicked wildly, your muffled screams bouncing back at you. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to silence you. He just carried you like you weighed nothing, his footsteps steady and deliberate.

You didn’t know how long he walked. Time lost all meaning as your world narrowed to the suffocating darkness and the steady ache in your arms and legs from struggling.

When he finally stopped, the sack was ripped from your head. You blinked against the harsh, flickering light of a bare bulb overhead, your vision swimming.

The room was cold and barren, the walls lined with deep gouges that looked like claw marks. The air smelled of damp wood and decay, heavy enough to make your throat burn. From what you could see, you can tell you’re in a run down manor of some sort.

Jeff stood in front of you, his crooked smile returning as he loomed closer. “Welcome to your new home,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “The Wisconsin Sanctum for Wayward Boys. You’re the guest of honor.”

“What do you want from me?” you demanded, your voice shaking as you backed into the corner.

His laugh was low and humorless. “Want? Sweetheart, you don’t get it, do you? You don’t have a choice. You’re mine now.”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a hand rough and calloused. You flinched, your skin crawling under his touch.

“You’ll be good,” he said, more to himself than to you. “Or you won’t. Either way… you’re staying.”

Before you could scream, he turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him. The sound of heavy locks clicking into place echoed in your ears.

You collapsed onto the cold, metal cot in the corner, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The silence was deafening, broken only by your own pounding heart.

Whatever this place was, whoever—or whatever—he was, you had to get out. But as you stared at the jagged scratches carved into the walls, the weight of his words settled over you.

You were his now.

[twst-drabbles]

Malleus 16

Summary: Class has ended and you’re ready to eat for lunch, but everyone has stopped at the door. Turns out Malleus was there, and he craves affection.

(Wanted to write about kisses. And then Malleus popped into my head. So here you go!)

“Um, hey, Prefect?” Oh, well would you look at that, it’s Deuce speaking up this time, “Can I… copy your notes again? Please?”

“Yeah, I really couldn’t pay attention,” Grim tapped his paws on your desk, like that’ll somehow endear you to him, “besides, the board is so far away.”

You and your group are two seats away from said board.

“Yeah, come on,” Ace laid an arm across the back of your seat, “do us a solid, yeah? You know you want to. Can’t resist the call of enlightening our tiny little brains.”

“What are you gonna give me?” You closed your notebook just so Ace and Deuce don’t have a chance to look at your notes. “I’ve been saving your asses for the past two weeks. You gotta give me something.”

“Hehe, that’s my minion! If you want a fast pass, you need to give us reparations in tuna!” He cheered, once more using ‘we’ as soon as he thinks he’s getting something.

“You have to pay too, Cat.”

There will be no ‘we’ this time.

“What?! Why?!”

You tried tutoring them in the past but having Ace, Deuce and Grim all in the same room for more than ten minutes always leads to either an argument breaking out, a bunch of whining, or just general chaos because one or more people tried to slip out of trouble.

Yeah, yeah it’s partially your fault for losing patience and just giving up on them, but you’d think they’d at least pay attention long enough to take notes.

They’re right there! On the board!

They have no excuse and they have to at least pay you back for this emotional trouble.

Was this petty? Yes, very. You don’t care right now. You want a treat. Or money. Or both!

“Huh, ah, well,” Deuce got sheepish and reached into his pockets, “I have gum.”

“No.” He has disappointed you. An unworthy treat for your notes.

“How about I only eat three-fourths of your food this time?” Suggested Grim.

“My treat is me giving you more of my food?” And you don’t even give it, he just steals it!

Grim hissed. He was probably hoping you didn’t know fractions. But, good on him for finally learning. Shame his first thought was to try and trick you with it.

“Okay guys, you all know that’s not what the Prefect really wants,” Ace leans in, acting chummy, “how about this?”

You were given one thaumark.

“…”

“Alright listen, I need the rest to buy other things, okay?”

You got up after calmly putting your notes away. “I’m going to get lunch.”

“No wait come back!”

But, as much as you wanted to walk out and sit at the regular table while your friends slowly fill in the seats, the exit to the classroom was blocked by a cluster of murmuring and rather nervous students.

“What’s he doing here?” You heard one whisper.

“Uh, did we do something? Were we too loud?”

“I’m really hungry but…”

You are not in the mood. You tried to excuse yourself as you bumped into shoulders but you had to settle for grumbled apologies instead as you shoved yourself through.

Finally, you popped out of the other side, a little more heated and more irritable.

“There you are, Child of Man,” so goes the voice of Malleus, who stood to the side of the door, waiting. The cause of this blockage, students frozen with only his green-eyed stare. “I was kept waiting quite a while. How bold of you to do this, after the slight you made this morning.”

What?

“Wha?” Your annoyance was momentarily replaced by bafflement, but that quickly went away when your brain caught up to his words. You grumbled, “Oh, come on…”

Yeah, you’re probably not even gonna eat at the cafeteria. You’re just gonna get your food and go hide away somewhere until you cooled down.

Malleus walked forward, the surge of students all taking a collective step back as though his very air could potentially kill them.

“Well? Don’t you remember?” He crossed his arms and you were ready for that high-brow glare that comes with all people of royalty, but instead, you found an exaggerated and childish pout. “You forgot to give me my morning greeting. I felt off the entire morning, unable to focus, because I didn’t have the memory of you kissing my brow fresh in my mind.”

A hush fell over the classroom.

And then a, “Huh?!” shot out of Ace’s mouth.

You snorted, then gave out a hearty chuckle. Once you calmed down, you waved Malleus over.

“Alright, alright, get over here. Let me correct that.”

A laugh rumbled low in his throat as he tilted his head into your hand. Playfully, you lightly pinched his ear, just because his pointy ears always caught your attention. He twitched, breath hitching just the slightest bit, and you couldn’t resist the urge anymore and kissed above his brow.

Malleus’s lashes fluttered open and the sigh that escaped him reminded you of a pure-hearted maiden with a fast-beating heart. And yet, there’s nothing delicate about the way he stood. If anything, the affection flowing through him made his pride more apparent. He practically glowed with that royal grace he was taught to have.

You couldn’t help yourself. You gave him an extra kiss on the corner of his lips. Malleus nearly hissed in a breath as he clamped his hand over your own, his body leaning in closer towards yours, as though he wanted to meld with you.

But, with a chuckle, you pulled away and he had no choice but to let go. Malleus was back to pouting, though this time, cheeks flushed and hair slightly messier than usual. The air around you was slightly charged with wayward magic, causing the hair on your body to stand on end. And his eyes…

Well, whoops.

“Good morning. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Better get out of here before Malleus jumps you right in this hallway.

[the-universal-sun]

Little Lee coping with being overstimulated from Halloween/trick or treat, please and thank you!!

(Sorry this is a bit late! I’ve been really busy these last couple of days! I think I’m going to make this one an attempt at a fic Drabble instead of head canon bullet points. I’m not sure this is 100% what you’re asking for, but please let me know!)

It was so loud. Everything-everybody-was so loud. And bright. Bright and Loud was all Stan could process. The people talking to him, the itchy feeling of the warm under shirt Sixer made him wear under his werewolf costume. It was all too much. He wanted the noise to stop, for people to stop talking at him and down to him and expecting an answer. An answer he can’t give because he can’t speak, not like this, not when he’s small and his tongue feels like it can’t move in his mouth. He can feel his breathing pick up, he starts rocking on his feet to calm himself but it’s not working right now.

He looks at his big brother, hoping Sixer can pick up on his need to leave and for everything to stop, but he’s talking to someone about something he can’t bring himself to hear. He doesn’t want to bother his brother, he doesn’t want to make him mad. He never gets mad at him, but he doesn’t want to push him, not right now and not right here. He can feel the tears prick at his eyes, his lip wobbling. But he can’t cry, not now! Not here! Not in front of all these strangers who’ll know and who’ll make fun of him and ruin this good thing he has! He likes feeling little. He has to leave now, to get away. He lets go of Ford’s hand and darts off, his muscle memory moving him around the bodies surrounding him and bringing him to a quiet area of trees, the houses around it are dark, so there’s no one here to trick-r-treat, to see him and talk to him and make more noise around him.

Stan lets himself collapse against the tree, hands blocking his ears, rocking back and forth, his breath hitching and heaving and sobs wracked his body, tears fogging up his glasses and getting the taste of salt in his mouth. He cries silently, a lesson he learned a long time ago, and waits for his big brother to find him. He needs his brother to take him home and comfort him, but he ran off and what if Ford’s mad? He broke two rules! He left Ford and he didn’t tell him that he felt too much at once! But he can deal with him mad because he’s all alone now and he’s scared and alone and wants to go home now! But he can’t go home because Ford isn’t here, and he’s not supposed to go anywhere without him when he’s little, but he did! He broke the rules!

Stan’s sobs get heavier, quiet wails leaving his throat as his thoughts start spiraling and spiraling. His breathing picking up to a pant as he starts clutching and pulling at his hair.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“It’s so nice that you’re still trick-r-treating with your brother at your age! I can barely get my kids to eat dinner with each other, and they’re not even teenagers yet-“ Ford smiles through the mindless babble of the woman in front of him. He stopped paying attention a long time ago, but experience lends him the knowledge that walking off as someone’s speaking to you tends to sour their feelings towards you, and he can’t have that while he’s with Lee. The people of Gravity Falls love him, and they don’t question them on the rare occasion that he takes Stan out around town when he’s regressed, like now. They just assume they’re doing some brotherly bonding or that Stan’s like that sometimes because of the deal with Bill or the memory gun. He doesn’t care to expound upon their theories, he doesn’t want them to know the real reason. Sure the kids, Soos, and Melody were fine with Stan’s regressing, but they’re family, he doesn’t know nor trust the rabble of Gravity Falls, all that matters is that they like Stan and he’s going to ensure they keep liking him. So he has to behave.

He takes a glance over to his brother and furrows his brow, Lee looks overwhelmed. He can feel his hand clutching his own even more, and his eyes have this far off look, one he gets when he’s overstimulated and is trying to hide it. He turns away from the woman to check on Lee more thoroughly when he rips his hand away and runs down the street.

“Stanley! Stop, what are you doing!” Ford yells as he immediately drops into a sprint after Stan, briefly losing him in the crowd of people huddled on the sidewalks. He needs to find Stan and do it quickly, he doesn’t want him to have an attack out here, all alone and vulnerable. He must’ve been so scared and overwhelmed to have run away from him like that. Why didn’t he notice the signs sooner? Why didn’t Stan give him a sign and let him know? He would’ve left in a heartbeat!

“Stanley, Buddy! Come on out, it’s Sixer, you’re safe with me!” Ford calls out as he gets to a less populated area of the neighborhood, hoping the nicknames will draw him out. He can feel himself starting to panic now, he scared for Stan. He doesn’t care if people find out about his brother's regression, but he knows Stan cares too much about it. Plus, he could be hurt, or could really be lost, or that blasted Trickster could get to him! He needs to find Stan soon.

Ford stops for a moment to catch his breath, hunching over his knees and trying to collect his thoughts. He needs to be logical and rational about this. His thoughts pause, however, when he hears a faint sound. He quiets his own panting and stopping, trying his best to hear the sound again. And he does, it sounds…it sounds…it sounds like Stan! It sounds like Stan when he gets so upset, he can’t silence himself, the muffled moaning wails that come out of his throat always breaks his heart to hear, and it still breaks his heart now, but at least he can find Stan with the sounds! He darts to his right, where he heard the wailing, and sees a cluster of tree near the darkest part of the street, the houses are all empty with their lights out, giving the tree cluster darkness and privacy away from snooping eyes.

Ford slowly approaches the trees, hearing the wailing get louder and louder the closer her gets. He spots Stan on the ground, furiously rocking back and forth, a self soothing habit he’s had since they were in elementary school. He slowly approaches him, not wanting to spook him and make him run off again.

“Hey, Lee? It’s alright, it’s just me, it’s Sixer. I’m here and everything’s going to be fine. Shhhhh, it’s okay, we are going to go home, get cleaned up, and I think an early bedtime is in order. Does that sound alright?” Ford likes the phrase every “command” he gives as a suggestion, something he learned early on in caring for Stan. Commands remind him too much of their father and of his decade of the streets, where he had no control over his life. Making anything that could come across as a demand a suggestion gives Stan the freedom to choose, to not remember those bad times.

If Stan heard him, he doesn’t give any indication. Rocking back and forth and whimpering, his hands almost tearing at his hair. Ford slowly gets down onto his knees beside Stan, reaching out with his hand and trying to set it on his brother’s shoulder. Stan whimpers and flinches away, an act that breaks Ford’s heart. He stops his hand from moving further, “shh-ing” Stan and talking in a soft and low voice, trying to calm him down.

“Lee, are you okay? Are you hurt? Or was everything just a bit too much, hmm? It’s okay, Bubs, you can tell me.” Ford questions slowly, trying to get Stan to focus on his voice rather than his thoughts. He figured Stan got overstimulated, but it wouldn’t hurt to check and make sure he wasn’t physically injured.

“…m’ so..ee” was the faint response he got from his brother. Stan was sorry? For what!? Stan had nothing to be sorry about, nothing at all!

“For what? I can’t think of a single reason for you to apologize, my Little Lee.” Ford reaches his hand out again, and Stan lets him rest it on the back of his head, hand sliding down to smooth his hair down and clutch his head.

“…I w-ran away…n’ I did’n say I was feew-feeling b-bad…” Stan’s panting as calmed down, but he’s still crying and hiccuping with each word. There’s a couple reasons his brother doesn’t speak very much when he’s little. He’s said he find it hard to move his tongue, he doesn’t feel the need to speak that often, and that when he does speak, he will flub his words, which Stan thinks makes him sounds too much like a baby. Ford disagrees of course, he thinks Stan sounds adorable when he speaks like that, but he understands the lack of need/want to speak at times, and he’d never force him. But he will revel in everytime he does speak. Except this time, of course, when his little brother is so panicked and overwhelmed he has to formulate words around a heavy tongue and heavier vocal cords.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Oh, Lee. I’m not mad that you ran away, or that you didn’t tell me you were feeling unwell. In fact, I’m sorry.”

Stan looked over at Ford at those words, why was he sorry? He didn’t break the rules, Stan did. Stan should be getting punished. His breathing slowed down with his thoughts, and his brother must’ve known what they were from his face.

“I’m your caregiver, Stanley. I’m supposed to look after you, to make sure you’re doing okay, especially in times like this, where you can easily get overstimulated. So yes, I’m sorry, Stanley, I’ve been remiss in my duties, my responsibility, to keep you safe. I’m so sorry.” Ford looked so sad, the look on his face made Stan’s chest ache even worse. Ford shouldn’t look like that! Ford shouldn’t be sorry! Stan should’ve let him know everything was becoming too much! It’s his fault, so why is his big brother sorry!? He doesn’t understand!

Stan leaned into Ford and vigorously shook his head, signaling his disapproval towards Ford’s apology and pointing at himself instead. Telling him that Stan should apologize.

“Oh, dear one, you can’t think this is your fault? Oh please don’t give me that look, I know you have trouble using your words, and I should’ve predicted that you’d get overwhelmed and kept a better eye on yo-!” Stan interrupts Ford by clapping his hands over his mouth and shaking his head again. Trying to Will himself to speak, but his tongue kept failing him, frustrated tears gathering in his eyes instead of scared ones.

Ford wraps his arms around Stan and pulls him into his lap, settling himself further on the ground, and rocking his back and forth as he gently pats his back. He slowly reaches up with one hand and wraps it around Stan’s wrist, removing his hand from his mouth so that he may speak.

“How about this, we both could have done better, and we’re both sorry, and we will work on our communication together so that we can avoid a situation like this again, is that good?” Stanley could continue to argue that he was wrong, but his Sixer’s rocking was better than his own, and now that he’s calmed down some, he’s feeling really sleepy.

He nods slowly as he reaches up and rubs at his eyes, feeling his brother laugh underneath him. He settles further on Ford’s lap, nuzzling his head into the crook on his brothers neck, letting out a deep sigh. Mind slowly drifting off with his brothers gentle rocking and soothing pats in his back. His mind barely picking up words as he drift further into sleep, arms clenched around Ford’s neck.

“I’ll take that as an agreement, my sleepy Little Lee. It’s alright, I can carry you to the car, you can go to sleep. Shhhhh-sh-sh-shhhh.” Stan starts to snore just a little, his eyes feeling too heavy to open, his head weighed down too much to nod. Instead, he puts two fingers down to form his favorite sign and gently taps his hand and Ford’s head in a well practiced rhythm of “tap…tap…tap…”

“And I love you too, my precious little brother.” Was Ford’s answer, Stan too deep into the throes and sleep to acknowledge it, but a small smile forming in his face anyways.

[anti-science-cohost]

Grabs you. Trick or treat!!!! >:3

feel free to do, uh, trick-or-treat here. I may not respond to all, and likely not too quickly.

[ladykissingfish]

*a man opens the door on Halloween to find Itachi and Kisame standing there*

Man: What the hell? You’re not kids!

Kisame, dressed as a cat: Youth is subjective, isn’t it? Anyway my partner here is very fond of candy, so if you don’t mind — *holds out his treat bag*

Man: You two ought to be ashamed of yourselves. This is a holiday for children, not two grown men parading around in costumes. Get out of here before I call the authorities!

Kisame, sighing: Ah, so you’re going to be difficult about this, huh? Well perhaps my partner and his charming song will change your mind.

Man: Look, buddy, no cutesy little song is going to —

Itachi, dressed as a witch, softly singing: “Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat. If you don’t, I don’t care, but —“

Itachi: *voice getting significantly deeper and his sharingan glowing* “ — but if I were you, I’d surely beware.”

Man:

Man, shaking: *dumps the entire bowl of candy into their bags and quickly slams the door shut*

Kisame: Good job, Itachi-san! Now let’s see; there’s about ten houses left in this neighborhood, and then after that, we have a couple of parties we can hit up for more sweets. Sound good to you?

Itachi, hugging Kisame: I love Halloween.

[galaxycunt]

My Dinner With Buggy

Author warning: this is dialogue only. Why? Because I wondered if I could do it and so here it is I’m lucky I had power the whole time in my house during this ice storm bc I’m so bored 😭

Summary: You are waiting on a man, you haven’t seen each other in quite some time. Not since you were a bright eyed recruit and he was a young captain with more ego than sense.

“Welcome in! How many?”

“Two, please,” as you sat you said, “a bottle of house red, thank you.”

A hand tapped you on the shoulder some time later, “I never tire of that joke. You’re looking good.”

“Buggy, wow. It’s really good to see you.”

“Yeah, not every day a marine wine and dines me.”

“I can think of a few officers who’d like that, now.”

Buggy frowns, “you told them, didn’t you?”

You shake your head, “Buggy, I didn’t even know you were with the Roger pirates. I found that out from the snails like everyone else.”

“Huh. Swore I told you. I guess…I never tell anyone that shit.”

“Hey, doesn’t matter. You’re here. You’re safe.”

Buggy laughs, “god, it’s been forever. Remember when we climbed up the mast of the first Big Top?”

“Hm. Yeah. Tiny Top. That ship sucked. I remember beating you up there.”

“Oh fuck off, I let you!”

“I beat you by a whole 30 seconds!”

“I’m not letting a fucking marine talk shit while I’m trying to enjoy my damn dinner.”

You laugh heartily as the waiter arrived, “I’ll have the pasta special.”

“You paying or what?” You nod, “prime rib. Gimme a steak bigger than my head.”

“You sure ain’t a cheap date, Bug.”

“Oh! So this is a date? Okay, you sure you don’t wanna thrown in with the guy who tangoed with the best and came out on top?”

“I…I think I am quitting. I saw your little movie debut. He…he was just a kid. Both of them.”

“Y-yeah. He really was.”

“I guess that’s the life we choose.”

Buggy sighs, “let’s not think about that. I’m here, you’re here. This is a date.”

“Is this a date? Okay, what lines does Captain Buggy pull on these things?”

“What’s your sign?”

“Libra.”

“I’m a Libra moon, they say a sun and moon sign being the same means they’re meant to be.”

You shake your head, “you’re so full of shit. Is that even your sign?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Take me on more dates like this and I’ll tell you the truth.”

You can’t hide your smile, “shut the fuck up.”

“Join me, I’ll treat you so good.”

“Uh huh.”

“It’ll be fun. I won’t even make you wake up at dawn.”

“And what do you get out of this?”

“A beauty at my side every day, that’s all.”

“You just want trade secrets, don’t you?”

He looks offended, “I ain’t that bad a guy. But my lips are sealed, if you wanna give anything up.”

“If you want secrets out of me, you gotta give me something to work with.”

“Work with?”

“What’s your big secret, tough guy?”

He chews the free bread thoughtfully, “the rumors are true. I washed Gol D. Roger’s underwear. Though I tricked Shanks into doing laundry duty more.”

“How?”

“Packing gunpowder is way cooler. Only chumps think laundry is better. Just cause you do it once a month.”

“Sounds about right for pirates. Marines make you clean the toilets with a toothbrush every day.”

“See what I mean? I wouldn’t let you lift a finger.”

“I might hold you to that.”

“I’d be so good to you.”

In between bites you say, “I joined only because I needed the money. My dad was a marine, the pension don’t pay much if you’re just one of the grunts. He wasn’t happy I did it. They had a nice sign on bonus.”

“Is that really a secret?”

“Well, maybe. People on base like to act like they’re doing it for the greater good. Justice and all that shit.”

“Snooty fucks.”

“Oh yeah.”

He smiles, “see? Gotta join me now.”

You blush as he watches you eat, “what?”

“Nothing. Just nice. You write and call less and less these days.”

“Hey, man. You do have a bounty. Though I guess I don’t have to be as careful.”

“Heh, yeah. Maybe we can see each other more….especially if you join.”

“Let’s not talk work, tell me anything else.”

“Like how lovely you’re looking?”

“Look at you, wearing something clean.”

“So this is a date. Let’s go for another drink after this, my treat.”

“Twisting my arm over here.”

“I’m a pirate, baby. I have my ways.”

You can’t stop smiling, in spite of yourself, “last time I saw you, you threw your head at me.”

“I remember.”

“Did you mean it? What you said?”

“Yeah, I really didn’t want those fucks taking me in. Even if they were your buddies.”

“No, no. Not that.”

He hums, “I think I remember.”

“Don’t be a dick, Buggy.”

“Don’t leave me in suspense then.”

“If you don’t remember, then I won’t say it.”

He stares for a beat, studying you, “I’m sorry for teasing. I do, I always will.”

“You were so drunk I-“

“-I wasn’t. I lied.”

“Check please,” you flag a waiter down, feeling his eyes boring into you, “thank you.”

“Oh shit. No, I didn’t lie about that. I was sober.”

Relief floods you, “you’re so stupid.”

“I love you.”

“Do you, or just the young hot marine you met?”

“Baby, don’t be like that.”

“What if I’m tired of the sea, want something quiet?”

“I’ll visit. All the time.”

“Really?”

He nods, “I’ll treat you good. So, so good.”

“I love you too. Against my better judgement.”

“Let’s get outta here. When are you expected back?”

“I got three weeks off.”

“Just enough time to lay low with me.”

“Heard you got a new crew, all those prisoners. They won’t like me on board.”

“They think I’m their god or some shit, I dunno. We can rent a room somewhere. I don’t care.”

“You are something else.”

“I can be all yours, just say the word.”

“Let’s see how tonight goes then.”

“I’m gonna dazzle your pants off.”

“Won’t go for nothing less.”

[changingplumbob]

Pancakes Household: Chapter 9, Part 4

This is Halloween, Halloween, Halloween

Bob: Costume time! Okay friends and fans, it’s time for our Halloween special, who wants to make a pumpkin pie with me?

From beside Bob the droid chirps to indicate that people are tuning in.

Bob: As you can see I have chosen to be a rebel pilot today. I’ll be keeping this on for the bake and my bake sale but something tells me the boss would not approve of me turning up to work in it. Okay let’s run through all our ingredients

The drone chirps while Bob begins preparations. Eliza’s suggestion to get the drone may have stemmed from a place of wanting the flashiest one but Bob appreciated having a set of eyes he could look at when he talked.

Bob: Ugh, kneading, not my favourite part after I’ve already done a workout but hey, that’s on me

He continues to narrate his baking, even getting the drone to read out a question or two that viewers have sent in about the recipe. In the end he pulls one excellent pumpkin pie out of the oven, a perfect Halloween treat.

Bob: Come one, come all to Bob’s Bars! We don’t just have our classic beloved lemon bars today, we have cake and cookies for the sweetness you want on Halloween. If you’re having all that sugar, may as well get full eating it!

The first few customers seem unimpressed with Bob’s selling today but when some new sims walk up to purchase suddenly decide maybe the baking isn’t so bad.

Fergus: Hey Onyx could you- woah! What are you

Onyx: A knight obviously. I see you’re going with the classic skeleton

Fergus: No point fixing what isn’t broke. But could you please help me with my bike? Dad’s busy with the sale and I don’t want to interrupt mother when she’s practicing her speech

Onyx: Sure, I can try. Hop on and I’ll try explain, remember I only just learnt how to ride before my birthday

Fergus: Oh yeah, that’s right

So Fergus wobbles his way around the yard with Onyx doing their best to provide guidance.

Bob: Alright folks, my shift will be starting soon. Who’s going to be customer of the day and buy the last lemon bar?

Harvey: Hello. Do you have bake sales often

Bob: Why yes I do sir

Harvey: How convenient! And do you get positive reviews

Bob: Indeed I do

Harvey: Well then person I’ve never met I would like to buy the last lemon bar

After Bob makes the sale Harvey tells everyone around him how good it is while Bob packs up. It’s good to have friends.

Eliza greets the first trick or treater and offers them some candy. The kid leaves happy and Ginger comes out of the house very confused.

Ginger: *whines* What’s going on

Eliza: Ginger sweetie it’s just me, it’s just mother. Here let me give you a brush

Ginger: *barks* you may not look like mother but you definitely smell the same

Then it’s dinner time for the Pancakes left at home.

Fergus: Dad left us roast! Awesome

Eliza: Onyx will you be able to eat in that helmet

Onyx: I could ask you the same question. But I won’t, because I’m a good kid who deserves a horse

Fergus: *laughs*

The trio chat and eat while Ginger looks on. Sure she has biscuits in her bowl but that looks like real meat on the table. Why won’t they feed her that?

Onyx takes care of the dishes and Fergus decides it’s time for Ginger to learn another trick, playing dead. Mustering his drama skills he does his best to show her what to do, but she remains skeptical of the exercise. Fergus keeps trying though and eventually Ginger catches on, rolling to the floor.

Fergus: You did it! Well done Ginger, we’re stars

*doorbell rings*

Eliza: Onyx could you get that one

Onyx: Sure mother

They open the door to the deck candy all prepared and are greeted by a teen girl dressed as a maid.

Zhafira: Trick or treat

Onyx: Uhh… what

Zhafira: *laughs* I mean for me

Onyx: Oh, right. Have some candy?

Zhafira: Why thank you

Onyx has just decided they should ask what high school the stranger attends when she turns and skips off down the drive.

Carson pops over to visit and become best friends with Onyx!

Onyx: Where’s your costume

Carson: I’m dressed as someone who doesn’t care about Halloween

Onyx: Your loss. Hey, have you seen a girl at school?

Carson: There are many girls at school

Onyx: I mean a specific one, she’s a brunette with a bob cut

Carson: You don’t know a name

Onyx: She left pretty quickly, but she was cute and I wondered why I hadn't noticed her before

Carson: People keep aging Onyx, so more teens. But sorry I don’t really find many people cute at our school so haven't noticed

Onyx: You said that last year. But if you know you’re bi you must have been attracted to someone once right

Carson: I mean, it’s going to sound stupid...

Onyx: You’re my best friend, sound as stupid as you like

Carson: I mean I’ll find a guy or girl pretty but my daydreams are usually romance filled instead of woohoo filled

Onyx: Huh. So are you like, anti-kissing

Carson: I don't know, growing up is confusing

Onyx: You’re telling me

Previous ... Next

[shadowqueenjude]

Sluttiest quotes- Nesta's version

"She was likely eaten. That's why she hasn't returned." “There is no Aunt Ripleigh. Your beast’s little trick didn’t work on me. Apparently, an iron will is all it takes to keep a glamour from digging in. So I had to watch as Father and Elain went from sobbing hysterics into nothing. I had to listen to them talk about how lucky it was for you to be taken to some made-up aunt’s house, how some winter wind had shattered our door. And I thought I’d gone mad—but every time I did, I would look at that painted part of the table, then at the claw marks farther down, and know it wasn’t in my head.” “He stole you away into the night, claiming some nonsense about the Treaty. And then everything went on as if it had never happened. It wasn’t right. None of it was right.” “I realized (Tomas Mandray) wouldn’t have gone with me to save you from Prythian.” "It is the choice of cowards." “See if I’ve accepted my lot and found myself grateful for becoming one of them?” “What do I care? I get to be young and beautiful forever, and I never have to go back to those sycophantic fools over the wall. I get to do as I wish, since apparently, no one here has any regard for rules or manners or our traditions. Perhaps I should thank you for dragging me into this. But it’s not me you should be checking on. I had as little at stake on the other side of the wall as I do here. She will not leave her room. She will not stop crying. She will not eat, or sleep, or drink.” “It’s a good thing we’re not the same size— or else I might be tempted to steal that dress.” “Likely right off her,” Cassian muttered. Mor’s answering smirk wasn’t reassuring. But Nesta’s face remained blank. Cold. She looked Mor up and down—noting the dress that exposed much of her midriff, back, and chest, then the flowing skirts with sheer panels that revealed glimpses of her legs. Scandalous, by human fashions. “Fortunately for you,” Nesta said flatly, “I don’t return the sentiment.”

“It doesn’t look like you’re exercising anything other than your mouths.” “Why should I be scared of an oversized bat who likes to throw temper tantrums?” "I made it give something back." “If he wants what I took, he can come get it himself.” “He’s too busy to bother,” the white-haired male purred, advancing another step. “Apparently you’re not.” The familiar male’s gaze snagged on her. “What’s her business here?” Nesta gave him a secretive smile. “Witchcraft.” Nesta "Lady Death" Archeron, I'll treat you better than Cassian *sigh*

[sammys-magical-au]

A Telltale Heart

Hey y’all!! I’m back at it again with the follow-up stories as a Christmas present for my good friend @wouldntyou-liketoknow - this one’s a long overdue sequel to Bloody Tricks and Even Bloodier Treats, her Halloween special from 2 Halloweens ago (😅). It ended up a little shorter than I’d originally intended, but the ending I have here just kinda felt right 😊

Disclaimer: the character of Caliban is not mine and belongs to @wouldntyou-liketoknow, he’s one of her many MatPat fanegos that I would highly encourage you to check out!!

Warnings: cannibalism, mentions of past injury, reference of a suicide attempt

And without further ado, I give you A Telltale Heart…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You wanna know what it tastes like, don’t you?”

Sam’s head shot up at Caliban’s comment, and she was shaking her head before she’d even fully thought about it.

“Absolutely not,” she replied sternly, “I’m vegetarian, plus I’ve learned in my line of work to not ask questions I already know I don’t want the answers to.”

Caliban stared at her for a moment, then shrugged.

“Suit yourself.” He murmured, which would’ve totally been an acceptable thing to say if he hadn’t followed it up by shoveling a bite of actual-human-person into his mouth. He absolutely knew the irony of his actions and was revelling in how uncomfortable Sam was because of it.

Sam cringed, swallowing the bile rising in their throat.

She didn’t know why she was sitting across from him while he ate the person she’d helped him kill.

Maybe what Owen said was right, and she was just a damn bleeding heart, too caring for her own good.

She just wanted to make sure Caliban was okay after he’d been attacked.

There were still red marks on his throat where that man’s thumbs had pressed into his flesh, and they’d likely bruise. Sam was positively certain Caliban had suffered worse injuries in his line of work, but she couldn’t help but feel… he didn’t want to be alone here, even if he’d never say so out loud, since Murdock had left to contact the cleanup crew a few minutes ago.

As if he’d read Sam’s mind, Caliban suddenly broke into her thoughts.

“You can go if you want,” he mumbled around his mouthful - again, actually human flesh. Sam wouldn’t have minded his poor table manners if he’d been eating something normal. “You don’t have to stay. I know not many people like to watch me eat.”

“No, it’s fine,” Sam half-lied, “I’ll… I’ll stay. I don’t mind… too much.”

She tried to keep her eyes from drifting down to his plate as she said it, which admittedly wasn’t that hard when his mouth curled into a smile - a genuine smile, not his usual cavalier smirk - and he let out a faint chuckle.

He seemed to have calmed down a bit since having eaten, and even though Sam couldn’t relate to craving human flesh, she could certainly relate to feeling better when her stomach wasn’t empty anymore.

“Sorry if I scared you by the way,” Caliban added - once again seeming to read her mind, “earlier, I mean.”

“Oh, you didn’t scare me,” Sam replied, again sort-of lying, “I’ve seen much worse in Torchwood, believe me… you’re not even the first cannibal I’ve met, if I’m being completely honest.”

That gave Caliban pause - Sam quite literally saw him jolt in his chair, though only slightly. His head snapped up to look at her.

“Really?” He asked, “who were they?”

“I dunno if I ever learned their names,” Sam answered, trying not to shudder, “if I was ever told them, they either didn’t stick in my brain or I purposely forgot. They were… different from you…”

As much difference as you could get with cannibals… she thought, but neglected to say.

Caliban raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting them to go on.

“It was a whole family, for one thing,” Sam went on, realizing she was already shaking, “a mother and father and their grown-up kids. Lived in this town in the Wales countryside, people started going missing, we got called out because it was ‘suspicious’. Turns out it was pretty far out of our jurisdiction - out of anyone’s jurisdiction, really, considering what they were doing out there… they didn’t just… they didn’t just eat the people the caught. They tortured them, they tricked us into thinking they were on our side, one of them even impersonated a police officer to capture Gwen and Owen. Ianto got it the worst. He tried to sacrifice himself to save Tosh, so she could run. They… they beat him so heavily he almost wasn’t alive by the time we got him outta there. Those people weren’t just cannibalizing for food, they did it for fun, for pleasure. I… I’ve seen a lot of horrible shit in my lifetime, but that was probably one of the worst.”

She sucked in a long breath, realizing she hadn’t inhaled since she’d started the story.

“Anyway… I dunno why I’m telling you all this. I guess just to say that… I misjudged you. You’re not like them, you’re… different. And I’m sorry.”

Caliban frowned.

“What for?”

“Well it’s not fair to judge you based on the only thing I know about you.”

“I’m a cannibal.”

“That… still doesn’t make it fair.”

“I don’t really care much about fairness.”

“But I do.”

Caliban shrugged.

“Alright. Fine. If apologizing makes you feel better then.”

He was quiet for a second.

“Thank you.” He added, in a barely audible voice.

Sam nodded, knowing he probably wouldn’t want anymore acknowledgement than that, and offered a small smile.

She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes as Caliban finished his impromptu snack - if it could be called that - finally feeling the adrenaline of the evening starting to wear off.

“You threw out a lot of names there,” Caliban said finally, breaking the silence, and Sam opened one eye to look at him again.

“Hm?” She asked.

“In your story about the other cannibals,” Caliban explained, “what’s this ‘Torchwood’ thing really about, anyway? You said about four different names of people I don’t know and that apparently you get called out to deal with missing people, but you’re not a cop.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“I could be.” She said.

Caliban was already shaking his head, grinning.

“No, you couldn’t,” he said, “you’re not the type, I can tell.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sam chuckled, “Gwen used to be, though. A cop, I mean. She’s our investigator now, using that could’ve-been-a-detective brain to track down leads and appeal to people’s human side. She really cares, she’s our heart, reminds us to be more… human. More kind. Toshiko is the brains of the operation, she’s a scientist, a techie. She can hack into just about any government agency site and she can solve any tech issue in five minutes, tops - I just wish she’d recognize her own brilliance. Owen’s the doctor, but he’s also a biologist. Any weird, wacky specimens we find go to him. He’s a bit of a hardass, but he’s like a little brother to me. We all know he’s much softer on the inside than he lets on. Ianto’s kind of a one-man-band, he cleans up after us, makes the coffee, but he specializes in the archives. He’s also the youngest of all of us. By a lot. Sometimes I catch myself thinking of him as a kid, even if that’s wrong. I can’t help it.”

“That young, is he?” Caliban asked.

“Early twenties.”

“And the other cannibals, they beat him?”

“Almost to death. And I can’t imagine the psychological torture they put him through. That could only be seen in his eyes… he wouldn’t tell us what they said to him, but I could tell… he tried to… take his own life not long after…”

Sam swallowed hard.

“H-he’s better now, of course, but… we were all pretty worried about him. And I don’t think he’s ever had friends who worry about him before.”

Caliban’s expression hardened, a flicker of anger appearing in his eyes, though Sam could tell it wasn’t directed at her.

“Then there’s Jack,” Sam went on, wishing her hands would stop shaking, “he’s our leader, and… well, I’m his biological ancestor. He’s from the future, but he ended up back here because of a misadventure with a man called the Doctor, who’s a whole other story completely.”

“How do you find out your someone’s ‘biological ancestor’?” Caliban demanded.

Sam shrugged with a weak laugh.

“When your coworkers start not minding their own business and notice how similar you talk and act and look and get a DNA test done.”

Caliban huffed a laugh before lapsing into another momentary silence.

“Doc told me about that little favor he did for you,” he said after a minute or so, “watching your other children. I’m assuming Jack wasn’t one of them.”

Sam nodded, trying to fight the sudden anxiety worming away at her stomach over the fact that a cannibal had just asked her about her children.

“Yeah, I have three younger kids between one and eight,” they said quietly, “my partner, Jay, was gonna be out for the evening and I got called out on an emergency, and since we were all living over here at the time and I couldn’t ask anyone else on my my team to step in, I contacted Murdock.”

Caliban was chortling.

“You hired a contract killer to babysit your children!” He cackled.

“Yeah, and Jay wasn’t too fucking happy about it when he found out either,” Sam grumbled, which only made Caliban laugh harder, “I know Murdock promised they couldn’t be safer, but… well, a serial killer is a serial killer.”

“What’re their names?” Caliban asked, a strange glimmer in his brown eyes that Sam couldn’t quite match to an emotion.

Sam’s heart slammed to an immediate stop.

Caliban must’ve seen the shock and reluctance in her face, because he immediately shook his head, waving a hand dismissively.

“Never mind,” he murmured, “you don’t have to tell me. I can understand why you wouldn’t want to. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“N-no, it’s fine,” Sam stammered quickly, “I just… and I hate that I have to ask this, but… you wouldn’t eat a child, would you?”

Caliban raised an eyebrow at them, annoyance (and… possibly offence?) etched into his face.

“So, did you think my underground subway lair looked like a witch’s gingerbread house, or…?” He asked, his tone bordering on the same anger he’d expressed before.

“Alright, fair enough,” Sam sighed, raising her hands, “sorry. Protective instinct, I guess.”

“You would protect them, wouldn’t you?”

The question caught Sam off guard.

“… What?” She responded, frowning and tilting her head to one side.

“From someone like… from someone like those other cannibals.”

Sam could tell he’d wanted to say “from someone like me” but had refrained. She didn’t acknowledge this.

“Of course I would,” they said, with sudden fierceness, “I’d protect them from anything, human or not, cannibal or not, Earthly being or not. I’d give up my life for my children, I’d give up everything for them. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I wasn’t.” Caliban responded quickly. Then he added quietly, “just wanted to be sure.”

“Sure of what? That I’m not an abusive parent?” Sam shot back with a laugh, “never. NEVER.”

“Good to know.” Caliban said simply.

That strange emotion from before still lingered in his gaze, and Sam squinted at him.

“… Why?” She asked finally, and Caliban glanced up at them.

“Huh?”

“Why… did you wanna know that? Why’s it important to you?”

“Because no child deserves to suffer, but any adult who caused them suffering does.”

Sam nodded.

“Agreed. Got a bit of a soft spot for children then, huh?”

“You could say that, I guess. As long as you don’t make fun of me for it.”

“I’d never do that! Why would I? It only makes me like you more.”

Caliban gave her another look.

“Platonically, I mean.” She added.

“I know that,” Caliban huffed, “I’m just not used to hearing people say they ‘like’ me, especially not… normal people.”

“Well, you should know me enough by now to know I’m not a ‘normal’ person. If such a thing even exists.”

Caliban nodded, smiling.

“You make a good point.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@insane4fandoms @inkbedou @the-matpat-ever

[petermlx]

@silver-goggles-guild

Peter as a dad

Going off of canon (movie wise) and off of personal headcanons that I’ve seen, I’d say that Peter would be a really good dad.

He grew up with a younger sister (as seen in DoFP. Whether that’s Wanda or Lorna or a completely different kid is up to you) and in the same movie, we’ve seen that his mother drinks alcohol. So there’s a high chance pointing to the fact that Peter’s mother might’ve been too drunk to raise either of her kids.

So Peter, with both of his parents absent in his childhood, would swear to himself that he’d raise his sister better than their mother ever could.

And he’d get good at it. He’d probably even steal a book on parenting just to make sure he was going about things the right way, one of the few things he’s ever done by the book.

And as he and his sister gets older (she looks to be around 7 or 8 in DoFP and Peter’s probably in his late teens at the same time) he’d do other things too. Like go with her for parent-teacher conferences and back to school nights. Peter would go trick-or-treating with her on Halloween and would play dress up with her.

So I’d imagine that even after she’s all grown up and in high school or college and Peter’s moved into the mansion after Apocalypse, all of those parental instincts would just stick. He’s spent practically his entire life being his sister’s ‘dad’, he wouldn’t just forget all of that.

In the beginning, Peter definitely wouldn’t realize that he was even doing it. Like, he’d read bedtime stories to the students that wouldn’t be able to sleep or he’d make snacks for some of the students. He’d help the students with their classwork (even if he didn’t understand half of it) and would watch them whenever they went outside to play or practice with their mutations.

And then Peter would realize what he was doing and would double-down on it. His parental instincts weren’t something he was ashamed of and he sure as hell wasn’t ashamed to admit that he cares for the little rascals of Charles’s school.

And then those instincts would bleed into his friendships with the older mutants. At first it would be simple stuff like making snacks for them when they said they were hungry in between meals. Or he would help patch them up after training or missions even though they had Hank to do that. And then it would evolve into little comments like-

“Hank, you gotta sleep more, man. How are you expected to be our great engineer if you can’t even see straight?”

Or,

“C’mon, Charles, we were all teenagers once. Let them go to the mall. If it makes you feel better, I’ll be sure to watch over them.”

And then it would evolve into different, more serious comments such as-

“Scott! Don’t do that, you’re gonna bust your head open!

And,

“Kurt, buddy, I know your tail is strong but you can’t just go around picking everything slightly heavy up with it. You might drop it and I don’t think our good doctor here is well-versed in the ways of literal tail bones.”

Or,

“Jubs, I understand that you want a ‘hot summer bod’, your words not mine, but you really have to eat more than that. It isn’t healthy to cut back on food just because you want to get skinny. Here, have some more food and I’ll teach you later how to get a hot bod like mine.”

At first, the X-Men definitely don’t realize what’s going on, they just think that Peter is being protective over them because of Apocalypse (though that wouldn’t explain the things he’s said to the older mutants who are more than capable of taking care of themselves). But then, for whatever reason, Peter’s little sister comes to the mansion.

And all of a sudden the others are watching from an entirely different perspective on how Peter acts with others. He’s questioning his sister about her school while he’s making her a snack and how she’s doing and if anybody is giving her any trouble. And she kinda laughs while rolling her eyes and answers with a “No, Dad. Nobody’s giving me trouble,” and it’s not exactly said sarcastically as most little siblings would be with their older siblings.

And the others would analyze Peter’s behaviour with them and then would have that collective thought of ‘Oh. Peter acts like a dad to us’.

After that realization, the others would start to be more welcoming towards Peter’s words of advice and caution, even though it felt like he was babying them from time to time.

I’m just saying that with his family, biological or not, Peter would act like a total dad.

(I feel very strongly about this, if you couldn’t tell.)

[kings-highway]

trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat! if you don’t, i don’t care, i’ll pull down your underwear ;P

(why did the headless horseman start work earlier than everyone else? he wanted to get ahead).

ahhahahaah welcome to the door... trick or treat... trick or treat.... your treat this evening is the first description of the kaiju monster from my unfinished/ unreleased kaiju monster story. Will this ever get finished? who knows! until then, enjoy this fucking nightmare thing my brain produced bc why do Godzills when you can do something way fckjng weirder

[muertarte]

TIMING: Halloween

PARTIES: @amonstrousdream @bookofbolden @muertarte

SUMMARY: Leila, Eleanor, and Metzli celebrate their first Halloween together and dress up as the Scooby-Doo gang!

WARNINGS: None!

“Do I have to wear this?” Metzli slouched petulantly as they grumbled in their Scooby-Doo costume. The head bounced forward and nudged Leila in the face while she was busy finishing up the zipper. “I can just be vampire. See?” Letting their vampiric features fade into their face, Metzli snapped their teeth playfully. “No one will know.” 

A small smile tugged at their face, bigger than usual. Because despite how ridiculous they felt, there was a warm and pleasant sensation enveloping their chest at the sight of Leila and Eleanor wearing costumes too. Metzli had never had the opportunity to celebrate silly things like Halloween, and never saw themself as the type to participate even if they had the chance, but there was something about being a part of a celebration with people you loved. They even got Fluffy in on it. He was somewhere in the house, dressed up as Scrappy-Doo. 

“So…” Their eyes scanned over to the giant bowls of candy by the door, along with three drinks Metzli had prepared for everyone to sip on. Hot chocolate with a dash of this creamy alcohol. They could have treats too, couldn't they? “I just…give this candy?”

The Scooby Doo head was certainly something.

If Leila was being completely honest, she had only been vaguely familiar with the cartoon about meddling kids and a talking dog that solved mysteries. But Ellie had suggested the costume idea, she had damn near cackled with laughter, and now there she was, zipping her fiancée into Scooby Dooby Doo while she stood on tiptoe in the perfectly purple pumps she’s managed to find for her own Daphne ensemble. 

“You could, but then it would just be Ellie and I that match…” The mare hummed as she adjusted the suit so it would sit properly atop Metzli’s head. She was trying so desperately to keep her grin at a non-shit-eating level, but the snap of teeth and fangs paired with the bobbling dog head was… Well… amusing to say the least. The corner of Leila’s mouth tugged up in a small grin. To stifle it’s growth, she planted a quick kiss on Metzli’s cheek, careful to avoid the cartoon dog head that had seemingly swallowed them whole. 

“That’s exactly it. The children come up, they say trick or treat- or sometimes they don’t but that’s okay- and we give them candy and compliment their costumes.” It wasn’t a tradition she had ever been able to take part in during life- it hadn’t really been a thing, then. But the mare loved a good excuse to dress up and play pretend more than most- and what was Halloween but a night to dress up and play a bit of pretend?

Eleanor stared at herself through her phone camera and fidgeted with her bangs until they fell just right. She was still shocked that Metzli and Leila had agreed to go with her costume suggestion but excited nonetheless since Scooby Doo had been one of her favorite cartoons growing up. Unfortunately she’d never had a group to actually dress up with and trick-or-treating as Velma alone was too pathetic for her to even consider so her inner child glowed with happiness that the time had finally come - it really was a simple thing but to her it made all the difference.

“You being a vampire on Halloween would be like me dressing up as Sylvia Plath or Jane Austen,” which Eleanor had of course done many years in the past, “A writer dressing up as a writer, a vampire as a vampire… it takes the fun out of it. Part of the appeal of the holiday is that you get to be something or someone you’re not.” She adjusted her glasses before putting her phone away to focus on Leila as she finished getting Metzli into costume. “For the record, I think we look great. I may be biased though.”

While Halloween had never necessarily been Eleanor’s favorite holiday she enjoyed the creativity people put into their costumes and admired the dedication. “It’s also really important that we’re known as the house that gives out the good candy because kids go to school and talk about which houses to hit up or avoid the next year. It’s a whole thing, they take it very seriously.”

“Good candy?” There were so many rules to the holiday. Metzli usually loved rules, but these weren't the kind that they could easily understand. There was no logic or reason behind them. At least, not to Metzli. What did costumes and candy and carving pumpkins have to do with the thinning of the veil? 

Offerings, maybe, but they decided they didn't really care when they saw Leila and Eleanor fully dressed. Their face immediately felt warm. 

“Um, I…” Metzli blinked several times, trying to focus, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door. Their back straightened, “I-I…is this the good candy?” They snatched up the bowl and presented it to the candy experts. It was filled with full sized bars and packages. Metzli figured the more expensive, the better, but they needed confirmation before opening the door. 

“I can confirm there is such a thing as good candy, and we are definitely going to be the house that has the most of it.” If there was one thing that a mare was good for, it was having a nose for finding the best candy within a ten mile radius. Leila had used looking for sweets as a means of distracting herself from less happy things. The result: bags on bags of the best chocolate and sugary confection money could buy. King sized sweets where she could get them. Every child would leave with more candy than they could probably imagine. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Leila spied Eleanor’s phone raising up up up to take a picture of the pair. She couldn’t help but wink at the Velma Dinkly-fied version of the author she’d come to care for so much. “We do look great.” More importantly, it seemed to bringing a little sparkle of joy back into their world.

The door knocked and all eyes swiveled in the direction of the noise. Trick or Treaters. “That’s the good candy, yes- and I have lots extra if we run out, somehow… so don’t worry too much.”

Eleanor felt the trick-or-treaters before the knock came at the door and the overwhelming excitement and curiosity made her smile. She would have a fantastic time since she got to be with the two people she’d grown closest to and would be greeted by happy candy fiends throughout the night. A nice change of pace was needed for the three of them, they deserved it. Most of her time had gone to feeling hopelessly lost without having a project to obsess over and keep her mind busy while she knew the pair in front of her were still grieving their loss. A fun, carefree night was something they could all use.

She quickly snapped her picture and hoped that it hadn’t turned out blurry in her haste and glanced into the bowl. “I can confirm that that is the best candy you could have gotten, well done. We’ll be popular for sure. Also, the fact that we’re actually handing out the candy and not just leaving the bowl on the porch with a ‘take one’ sign is a plus.” Eleanor nodded approvingly and made her way to the door. “Hopefully our Scrappy Doo will decide to grace us with his presence before the night is up, I think he really pulls the whole look together.” She smiled at both of them before opening the door to greet the children on the other side.

The door opened and Metzli sucked in a hasty breath. Not leaving the bowl on the porch was supposed to be a plus, but it felt more like a negative as the door opened to reveal people. But they weren't just any people. They were children. Excited ones. Ones that would surely eat too much sugar that night and keel over from a crash much like the kind that Metzli witnesses with Leila and Eleanor. 

Trick or treat!

Children exclaimed and jumped up in celebration and all the vampire could do was stare for a few moments. They all looked happy and excited and full of wonder. One was dressed as a bear, and another as batman, while a child hidden in the back had a costume that was clearly a homemade dinosaur. 

Metzli remained frozen in their own wonder, smiling faintly. Is that what childhood was supposed to be like? Was that what Cass missed out on? They swallowed harshly and shook their head to move past the thought, kneeling down to offer the bowl. “Take one. Each. Please.”

The door opened, the tiny voices of children rang out from the other side of the door, and Leila’s heart ached. A bear, a Batman, and a dinosaur stared into the foyer with sparkling, expectant eyes, waiting for their well-earned payment of candy. Just visible over the tops of their little heads, waiting at the edge of the path, stood the parents. Watching their children enjoy one of those utterly wonderful childhood moments. 

Cass would have loved the Batman… 

It hurt a little, knowing Cass wouldn’t be sharing in the silly evening. In addition, there was another ache. She wouldn’t be one of those parents, making whatever costumes her child could dream up. Leila forced the thoughts past as she watched Metzli kneel down before three wide eyed children. They saw the bowl of the large candy bars, and looked back up at the vampire like they had met their new god. Peals of excited squealing rang out as little hands reached for candy bars they could barely hold, followed by tiny thank you’s. It was good to see this. Good for Metzli. Good for them all, probably… 

Eleanor smiled as Metzli interacted with the children and peered around the door to get a better look at the costumes. She wished that Metzli and Leila could have felt what she did radiating from their tiny guests because she knew that it would have helped lift their spirits even more. She hadn’t checked in on them like she should have, something she felt guilty about, but she knew that things hadn’t gotten easier for them; maybe it wasn’t the right time to bring it up though so she would ask them how they were feeling at a more appropriate time.

She laughed as the children grabbed their candy and stashed it into their buckets and bags. “You did great, they loved you. I think the parents found you amusing too.” Eleanor lightly touched Metzli’s arm and looked to Leila with raised eyebrows. “I didn’t think we’d actually get them into the costume. Good thing we did though, I think it’s going to be a hit. I would have never guessed that giving out candy might be just as much fun as receiving it.”

The youngest of the three stared a little longer while the other two retreated to show their parents what they had been given. She seemed a little bewildered by the giant head on top of Metzli's, and they gave it a few experimental wiggles in response. 

A flurry of giggles escaped her and Metzli smiled in response, leaning just a bit further to boop her head with the snout of the costume. She couldn't have been no older than three. “Happy Halloween.” Metzli wobbled the head again, earning them a final giggle before the little bear scurried off to her parents. They watched, eyes misted with a mixture of delight and grief, but overall they felt warm. 

“Maybe this is not so bad.” Leaning into Eleanor's touch, Metzli carefully tilted their head to place a gentle kiss on Leila's lips. They hummed with delight, planting an equally soft kiss to Eleanor's and closing the door with their foot. “Do not forget the hot chocolate. It is champurrado. Better than regular kind.” 

Simple little things. A little child’s giggles so bright that they chased all shadows away. The soft sound of Metzli’s voice. The spark in Eleanor’s eyes. The silliness of the costumes. These were all such simple, little things, and yet each one was so precious, so utterly perfect. Each moment burned through the dark ache in Leila’s chest. Soft. Warm. Like a candle fighting its way through the dark. 

A gentle kiss pulled her from her endless circle of dreamy thoughts. In a lazy motion, the mare looped one arm around each of their waists, pulling them closer. Just for one night, she thought, everything could be bright again. Just with those simple little things that filled the moments of the evening.

It was a good night, the first truly enjoyable night that Eleanor had had in a long while and she hoped that more good things were to come not only for herself but for Metzli and Leila as well. As much as she didn’t think it was fair that they had been put through so much undeserved hardship she couldn’t deny that the time they spent together could more than make up for it. Silly costumes, hot chocolate, and candy might not solve their problems but that didn’t mean it couldn’t help distract them for a little while.

Eleanor smiled in response to Metzli and wrapped an arm around Leila. It would be a good night, one that they would look back on fondly for years to come and she would refuse to ruin it by allowing her mind to wander into that dark place it liked to go sometimes. She was with the people she loved and nothing was more important than that.

[goofballalex]

Trick or treat!

-Kit

Trick or treat!!! Give me something good to eat 😈 if you don’t…I don’t care…I will…..with you my candy I will not share!!

[yowyowyaoi]

Deidara: Have you ever heard the trick or treat rhyme thing?

Hidan: What the fuck is that?

Deidara, singing: “Trick or Treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat! If you don’t, I don’t care, I will pull out all my hair!”

Hidan: *bursts out laughing* What the hell?! That’s the funniest and the nastiest thing I’ve ever heard! 

Deidara: Right?! Hey though; if you had to pick someone’s feet to smell here, whose would you?

Hidan: You damn pervert. But, I guess Konan. Because she takes more baths than anyone so they probably smell good.

Deidara: Good point, hm. But me, I’d pick Danna. His feet would just smell like trees or wood, like the rest of him.

Hidan: But fuck the rest of that song, though. I ain’t gonna pull out my hair just because some stingy bastards don’t give me candy.

Deidara: Uh, yeah. I mean who would?! I —

*Itachi walks in with Tobi; both are missing very large patches of hair from their scalps*

Tobi, tearfully: Senpai … you’re never gonna believe what happened …

Deidara and Hidan: