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raaorqtpbpdy · 2 years

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Ectober week day seven!! Last day (although I still have to finish my fic for yesterday rip)

CASPER HIGH SCHOOL IS HAUNTED

[warnings for mentioned marijuana usage]

My mom told me, that ever since she was in high school, Casper High... has been haunted.

She says that seventeen years ago, when she was a senior, there was this freshman kid whose parents were paranormal scientists, and one day, at the beginning of the year, he was in an accident in their lab. He was only out of school for two days, but when he came back he was... different. At first, no one really noticed since most of the changes were small or gradual.

Like how the first month of school, the kid was a model student, then when he came back to school after the accident, he was suddenly a problem child, constantly breaking lab equipment, falling asleep in class, bumping in to people, skipping school. My mom said he always looked on edge too, shifty-eyed, like he was waiting for something to jump out at him.

Then the ghosts started showing up.

The first one was a lunch lady with glowing green skin who turned the meat in the cafeteria into meat monsters that attacked the students and faculty. She came to get revenge on a girl who got the school lunch menu changed to add vegan options. The school was evacuated, and all the students were accounted for, except the weird kid and his two friends, who no one could find.

The second ghost was called Phantom, and no one what exactly caused him to appear. Unlike all the other ghosts, he didn't want revenge or power. He showed up out of the blue, and within fifteen minutes, he fought the Lunch Lady, and trapped her in a magic thermos, then vanished. No one saw him leave. He was just gone... without a trace.

My mom says she didn't notice it herself, but some of the weird kid's classmates said that after that first ghost attack, the kid started carrying around a strange-looking thermos everywhere he went. But no one ever saw him eat or drink from it. People said that sometimes... they heard howling and moaning coming from it. Like there was something inside... and it wanted out.

That was the first haunting, but it wasn't the last. That same year on Halloween night, the Fright Knight himself showed up at the school haunted house to get back the sword the weird kid had somehow stolen from him, and unleash hell on the whole town. Phantom showed up again, defeated Fright Knight, and just as before, he disappeared like he was never there at all.

For four years ghosts attacked the school, Phantom would show up out of nowhere, fight them, beat them, and disappear just a quickly. My mom graduated after the first year, but my Aunt Mindy was there the whole time. She was in the same year as the weird kid, and even had a class with him when they were sophomores. She swears one time she saw his eyes glow bright green.

She also says that in her yearbooks, if you compare his yearbook photos you can see how his appearance changes over time. Their freshman photos were taken before his accident, and he looks totally normal, but with each year his skin looks paler, his hair looks wispier, his teeth look sharper, and his eyes look brighter, and the photos themselves start to have distortion in them, like there's something wrong with the camera, but only for his photos.

But no matter how much his appearance changed, he never looked older. She dug out her yearbook to show me his senior photo once, and it's totally true. In his senior photo he's pale as a ghost, and his hair looks like it's floating, and his teeth look like straight-up fangs, it's super creepy.

Anyway, my Aunt Mindy told me that the ghost attacks continued, until her graduation ceremony. And at the ceremony, every ghost that had ever attacked the school was in the audience, just sitting there, peacefully, putting everyone on edge. Every ghost except for Phantom, who was notably missing. As soon as the weird kid took his diploma, the ghosts vanished.

My mom was there too, sitting right next to the ghost of a pop-star, so close she could feel the heat of the ghostly flames. She said that when the ghosts disappeared, there was a sense of finality that you could almost touch, like a pressure was released, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Somehow they were sure that was the end of the hauntings, and everything would be safe and normal again.

My Aunt Lina says the weirdness didn't end there. She started high school the year after Aunt Mindy graduated. She was supposed to be a freshman when Aunt Mindy was a senior, but she got held back once in the sixth grade and had to repeat a year. She says when she started at Casper High, she knew something was up with it right away.

There were cold spots in the classrooms, and no matter how high you turned the thermostat, they never went away. If you listened closely, you could hear voices in the library, even when no one was talking. The lights would flicker in the hallway sometimes, for no reason, and the old ghost alarms, you know... the ones gathering dust in each of the classrooms and the hallways because they haven't been used in over a decade? Well they would flash, just once, not like they would to alert you of a ghost, briefly enough that it could just be a trick of the light, except that so many students were so sure they'd seen it. They couldn't all be mistaken.

Then, halfway through Aunt Lina's freshman year, one of the upperclassmen found a classroom next to the auditorium that was all boarded up and hadn't been used in years. Room 146. He thought it would be a good place to hide out and smoke weed with his friends since it looked like even the janitor had forgotten where it was, so he and his friends pried up the boards, and when they opened the door there were met with an icy gust of wind.

The inside of the room was so cold they could see their breath, even though the school was pretty well heated. And it looked like it had once been a storage room that they hadn't cleared out before they boarded it up because it was full of weird technology, strange artifacts, and books on the occult. Everything was stacked up against the walls along with a wall of stacked desks and chairs from when it had once been an actual classroom.

The only thing not pushed to the side was a single desk standing in the middle of the room with an odd looking thermos standing on top of it. It had the last name of the weird kid written on the side. When they tried to pick up the thermos, they got zapped with a static shock. It seemed like no matter how many times they tried to pick it up, it never ran out of static charge 'cause it just kept shocking them.

The students weren't really bothered by any of this, and they pulled out their joint, but every time they tried to light it, a breeze would come out of nowhere and put their lighter out. Aunt Lina says she heard one of the kids who was actually there telling people about it, and he swore up and down he heard a disembodied voice say "don't smoke that shit in here!"

After that, they all ran out screaming.

They spread the story around the school, and a few days later, a group of students calling themselves the paranormal research club went to room 146. My Aunt Lina was with them, since she was always a believer in the paranormal. They observed the thermos, took readings of the temperature, and catalogued all the items that had been stored there. While they did this, they also cleaned up the room, dusting and mopping, but never moving the desk in the center, or the thermos on top, believing that it didn't want to be moved.

It took them two weeks, and by the time they finished, one of the members complained that they hadn't gotten any studying done because they were busy with this project after school every day and during lunch, and they were totally going to fail their physics test. When they left the room after lunch, that member says they felt like the icy chill that always hung in room 146 followed them out.

Thinking it was just their imagination, they went to physics class. The tests got handed out, and as expected, they knew immediately that they were screwed. They didn't recognize any of the equations, and were sure they were about to bomb, but then, they heard a voice whispering in their ear. It walked them through the first problem, then the second, then the third, helping them find the answer, correcting them when they got something wrong.

They said as soon as they turned in their test, the icy chill that had followed them vanished, and they felt warmth finally set in. When they got the test back, they saw they'd gotten an A.

Sure that they'd gotten help from whatever mysterious entity was in room 146, they went back the next day with a bag of offering, like they would offer their dead loved ones on the Day of the Dead, sweets and fresh bread and flowers. They spoke to the creature, which they assumed was a ghost, thanking it for its help. They asked its name.

It answered, "Phantom."

Again, the story got spread around the school, and other students started going to room 146, bringing gifts for Phantom, and asking for his help, with tests with bullies, with setting up decorations for school dances, and it worked. More stories spread among the student body, of hearing test answers, of bullies shoelaces being somehow tied together, of streamers and lights hanging themselves on the gym's ceiling for homecoming.

And the offerings... the flowers stayed fresh, the trinkets were neatly arranged on the shelves, the sweets and snacks disappeared. Though the Paranormal Research Club still kept the room clean, they all swore on their lives they never did anything to the offerings, except throw out the flowers when they finally died.

To this day, Casper High's famous Paranormal Research Club maintains Room 146 as part of their club activities, and you can still leave offerings for Phantom ans ask for his help, although they say he's been pickier and less active in the past couple of years, the rumor mill still circulates new stories.

My best friend said she asked Phantom that nothing would go wrong for her at her first prom, and when she got back, she noticed her dress had ripped at some point in the night, but she hadn't noticed because somehow it had been fixed with a safety pin made out of ice. She still has that pin; I've seen it. It's been months, but it hasn't melted.

You may not believe in ghost stories. You may scoff at the idea of ghouls and cryptids. You may think there's no monster under your bed, but do you know for sure? Have you checked?

I have.

#ectoberweek #danny phantom #dp #drug mention #cryptid danny fenton #fic #sorry I missed yesterday my post-op painkillers made me too spacey to finish it on time so I’m gonna post it late once I get my brain back #things i wrote

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rodeoromeo · 1 year

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Neil banging out the tunes

#I’m too lazy to do anything but . post this #too late #neil banging out the tunes #Neil young #op

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isdalinarhot · 3 days

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I dunno man. Dalinar Sadeas 69ing? Is that anything?

#luke.txt #drunkposting #I’m drinking at whatever the opposite of the speed of light is but mark my words I WILL get fucked op enough to go to bed and feel fine #I’m actually doing fine emotionally rn I just feel too coherent #don’t worry I’m like cognizant of Staying Up Too Late Drinking Too Much And Getting Alcohol Poisoning #it would be so stupid to die this close to kowt

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recallthename · 8 months

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#I am so annoyed rn #and I’m trying to find the space between swallowing it and completely freaking out #the thing about being me is normally people ask things of me and my brain is like ‘it is my job now to do this thing’#regardless of my actual feelings on the matter #and I’m trying hard lately to… not do that #but idk how without feeling like I’m going to another extreme #I just consider being generous and picking your battles very valuable?#but then I’m like ‘bitch why are you considering playing dnd with your friends a battle?’#anyway I’ve died in every combat encounter we’ve had including twice in the most recent one #I’m playing a class that I already wasn’t interested in and only chose for party balance #and my dm put restrictions on which subclass I could pick cause she thought some were op #and is now reaching out saying she wants to nerf me cause she thinks I’m to op #yes the girl who was dead for literally the entirety of our last combat encounter is too op #playing one of the THREE subclasses she recommended #I just don’t even know what to say #it’s especially frustrating because she can’t 1) wait and see if it’s actually a problem #or 2) come to me and say ‘I’ve noticed this and I’m worried’#she’s just like ‘this is what we should do is that cool’#i love dnd but man I kinda wish I wasn’t playing dnd with these people

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heartbreakfeelsogood · 10 months

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i literally don’t know how to get a job . am i supposed to reach out to people that don’t say anything to me after i apply

#op #i really wanted this job and i‘ve been waiting to hear from them and thought maybe they’d wait until applications closed which was last week #so now it’s been a few weeks since i applied and a week since applications closed and i’ve heard nothing #and idk if i’m supposed to reach out ??? and if i was supposed to is it too late now bc it’s been a few weeks since i applied #or do i do it because it’s been a week since applications closed #i’m autistic idk how to interact with human beings and when it’s right to #i need a job and my tummy hurts

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inkats · 10 months

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I want to rewatch yuri on ice.

#saw the op again. and I got like #viscerally emotion.#i. need a friend. to inflict this on.#and then maybe finally watch banana fish. and given.#which #if yoi is making me feel like crying #(it feeels like I’m pmsing but it’s far to early in the month for that.#scary)#those two have i haven’t even seen them.#(surprising from former proud fujoshi ik)#(separate note apple. autofilled fujoshi. uhm.)#maybe it’s just too late at night. we will hopefully not want this in the morning.#if i do. pain and suffering upon us all #(she’ll have to end up watching it by herself and you’ll get a yoi liveblog in the year of our lord 2023)

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guster-animations · 2 years

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technoblade’s passing has been just weird for me

i havent cried. i havent cried in months. im emotionally and physically incapable of crying when not angry, it’s always been something i had and i hate it

i was in disbelief when i watched the video. i redirected myself to another video (alpharad or smth i dont remember) and then realized i had to tell my siblings. will was in shambles, he cried for a while. i dont think camille cried until she walked into my end of the hotel room and i asked her if she wanted to watch it, which she said yes to

i couldve not told them but that would’ve been cruel. they wouldve seen it today and watched it and i wouldve felt horrible

after i explained the circumstances of his passing to my parents, i think my mom watched thr video. that meant a lot to me (see july 2021)

i want to grieve. i want to take time to process this. i want to hug my fucking dog

#technoblade #ik i haven’t been active lately but you can figure out why from this post #i have 6 days at home after today. i’ll try to work on my hermitgang fic #maybe awhn or some fanart if i’m too sad for it #man. really wish i had normal human emotions right about now #curse you enneagram 5(/wing) and autism #op #tw death #tw cancer #vent

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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

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Gotham rained a lot more than Amity ever did.

Danny could not help but appreciate the differences. From the way the city itself curled around her inhabitants to the weather, Gotham was far darker than Amity ever managed to be.

Still, there were similarities. The screams, for one. In Amity, it was ghosts, their victims, and whichever ghostbuster of the day rocking up to rock each other’s shit. Another similarity? Danny’s inability to not get himself into troublesome shit, because he could never ignore a cry for help.

That scream was a cry for help if he’s ever heard one.

Danny cursed himself as he slipped through the alleyways, strides becoming smoother and agile than he normally walked like. He stuck to the shadows, the prickling of ghostly senses and honed vigilante instincts guiding him towards the scream. It was a man, getting stabbed by a guy in a red helmet.

Danny maintained that he was new here.

Which is why his foot connected solidly with Red Helmet's... red helmet.

"Motherfuc-" Red Helmet shouted as he was punted several feet away.

"Holy shit dude, are you good?"

Danny helped the guy up.

"Thank fuck! Back up! What took you so long?! Boss is gunna be so pissed if we're late!"

Hold up. Boss?

"Boss?"

“Black Mask, asshole! We gotta go before he decides to cut off our limbs!”

Danny yanked the guy to the side just as a bullet ricocheted off the rusted fire escape.

“Ope!”

“You’re not going anywhere.” A mechanical voice growled behind them.

“Oh fuck, Red Helmet guy.” Danny muttered.

“Shit, ya gotta run, tell boss I got caught.” The injured goon- because it was now apparent to Danny that the guy was working for someone dangerous- said. Danny appreciated the thought, but he only intervened because the guy was getting stabbed.

“Uh,” Danny hesitated. Clearly the guy had the wrong idea.

“Don’t make a move, unless you want your fucking heads blown off,” Red Helmet guy- wait, why does he feel liminal?- raised his guns. “Why don-”

Red Helmet guy was cut off by the thud of the now unconscious goon.

His helmet tilted down and then back up at Danny.

“Guess it’s just you and me,” Helmet guy sneered out. “Better tell me everything you know about Black Mask, or else you’ll get a taste of what he had.”

Danny held up his hands even though he knew he could just let the bullets phase through him. The smart thing would be to absolve himself and not get in the middle of two criminal’s beef as a civilian.

Danny’s full name, however, could have been Danny ‘Dumb Decisions’ Fenton. So, Danny practically interjected himself like an overexcited puppy at a doggy daycare.

“Okay, no need to get bloody. But uh, I have a question.”

Red Helmet cocked his head and mockingly gestured with his gun. “Sure, why not.”

Danny let as much of his midwestern accent into his voice as possible. “Who’s, uh, Black Mask?”

Red Helmet paused. Then he sighed. “You’re not from here, are you?”

“No…? I’m, uh, new in town.”

Red Helmet lowered his guns, and for some reason, Danny could tell that he was exasperated.

“Why would you even get in between a fight, dumbass? I have a gun! I coulda killed ya! He’s a criminal’”

Danny protested. Rude! “In my defense, you were stabbing him! You’re a criminal too, you know!”

“That makes it worse! You-!” Red Helmet paused. “Wait, do you even know who I am?”

Danny let his gaze wander down to the red bat-shaped logo on the guy’s chest. “Uh… Red Helmet… bat-guy?” He hazarded a guess.

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot.”

Danny gaped. “Excuse me?!”

“You heard me,” Red Helmet put his gun back and planted his fists on his hips. “You’re an idiot. Who gets in between a vigilante and the goon of a crime lord.”

Danny crossed his arms, leveling an unimpressed look at Red Helmet. “I’ve never heard of a vigilante killing someone, Red Helmet Bat-Guy.”

“It’s Red Hood.” Red Helmet sighed, walking closer. “And I wasn’t going to kill him.” Danny scoffed.

Danny relaxed, sensing the truth coming from Red Helmet guy’s liminal aspects.

“He’ll die looking at your ugly mug,” Danny sassed. “You’re gonna get him to a hospital, right? I’ll go with you.”

“Are you midwesterners all this trusting? What if I was the goon and this guy was the vigilante?”

Red Hood hiked the goon over his shoulder in a fireman carry. Danny followed after him.

“He’s the one that told me to go running back to his boss, Red Helmet.”

“It’s Red Hood.”

“That doesn’t look like a hood.”

Danny grinned as Red Helmet grumbled. How interesting! Maybe he won’t miss Amity as much as he thought he would!

“Ugh, fine, I guess someone’s gotta watch your dumb ass so you don’t get mugged.”

“I can take care of myself!”

Hood grunted. “I guess that kick wasn’t half bad.”

Danny beamed at him. “Thanks!”

——

Danny chucked a chimichanga at Red Hood.

“Wait a minute, you’re a crime lord! Being a goon was way less illegal than being a vigilante crime lord!”

Red Hood cackled at him.

#danny phantom #red hood #batman #jason todd #dc x dp #dpxdc #bamf danny phantom #Danny the extrovert who adopted Jason the introvert

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r0semultiverse · 1 year

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As much shit as I can give homestuck, I always go back to its fandom content as a source of comfort during really rough periods of my life.

#that was a time in my life where I was more certain about things #and though my personality at that time could have used work for sure I FELT more stable when I was hyper fixated on it if that makes sense?#just something about it idk #these blorbos are comforting to look at so thank you to all the fan artists out there #things felt like they were going great at the time I was binging the hell out of this series I think and so it brings a sort of stability #to my lately unstable mental state #I made entire YouTube videos around this thing and had a lot of fun gaming sessions involving Homestuck I’m garrys mod too #thank you for that babyfawnlegs; your homestuck mods were there for me when I needed them #in garrys mod*#homestuck #Hs #comfort fandom #comfort obsession #mine #OP

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virgincels · 7 months

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LOVEY-DOVEY !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. ddlg, daddy dom/little girl duhh, leon feeling guilty for no reason, age gap, princess parts used once, an abundance of pet names, honestly just icky sappy smut, typical stuff like penetration n oral, praise kink

note. haiii :3 so insanely embarrassed to post this it’s insanely icky and soft for me .. but ignore typos as always :333 rbs n feedback greatly appreciated :33 crossposted on my ao3 clitkiss as usual, this is like very.. ddlg like he dresses u at one point but it’s only mentioned briefly

stocking filler

You and Leon are trying something new. Now, he’s no stranger to it, his moonlight trysts with Pornhub show that he’s an expert at it in fact. But that was back in his late twenties. Op in Spain made his brain go funny, and maybe it’s ‘cause Ashley is the perfect subject for it - DDLG that is. She batted her lashes up at, clung to his arms, and she needed him, relied on him. In turn, he spent his days balls deep in videos like Daddy’s Little Girl Punished For Staying Up Past 8 PM, and even classier ones like Big Cock Daddy Fucks Tiny Tit Teen Girlfriend Till She Squirts (ANAL + THROATFUCKING)! Even the occasional Step-Daughter Chokes On Step-Daddy’s Fat Cock While Mommy Sleeps! Very tasteful, very nuanced, very discreet. So yeah, not to brag, but Leon’s kind of a porn connoisseur. Dabbled in every category.

The DDLG thing got boxed up and shelved away quick. Made him feel guilty, post-nut clarity set in the second he’d milked himself dry. Then he’d lay there for hours with a sticky palm and a heavy heart. Hasn’t thought about it in years, these days Leon’s more into Busty Dom Mommy Pegs Scrawny, Ugly, Sissy Slut In Business Suit! and if he’s really feeling up for it Stupid Fucking Bitch Takes Two Dicks At Once! The titular bitch actually only took one dick at a time despite the two dicks present, quite misleading in his humble opinion. No more creepy daddy stuff though. Those days are over; he hasn’t thought about it in twenty years give or take. Claire sent him this ‘Get porn sites taken down for women blah blah blah’ petition, he signed it, clicked out of the tab and got down to watching some silly slut get fucked within an inch of her life.

It’s more of a boredom thing. Honest. Leon watches porn to fill in gaps of space throughout his day; he nods his head thoughtfully when the man so affectionately titled Blue-Collar Bear slams into the Preppy Spoiled Twink. This is all getting away from him, the point is, Leon hasn’t thought about the dreaded topic of DDLG for literal decades. Then you walk in, and Leon’s sat there listening to you prattle on about Pompompurin and Chococat, an entire lineup of characters that he now knows off by heart.

Oh, is that right, sweetheart? Cinnamoroll’s a puppy, not a bunny? Wow, I didn’t know that, baby, fascinating ain’t it? Miffy‘s from the Netherlands, god, she’s gotta be careful over there in Amsterdam, honey. They don’t call that place Sin City for no reason, the red light district is no joke. Oh, I see, she’s from Utrecht? Ah, guess she’s safe then, I’m glad. What’s her name? That’s your favourite, Cogimyun? That’s a mouthful, ain’t it? She looks like a cloud. No? She's not? She’s a what-? Made of wheat flour? Oh! Well, that’s real funny, baby. Bet she don’t do well on windy days.

You don’t tell him outright. But he knows. Leon tries to tell himself that you’re just like this, that you buy cutesy, girly stickers to make yourself happy, that you fill his bedroom with soft toys ‘cause you simply like ‘em, turn them around when you fuck as a joke. But it’s clear, the headspace you’re left in after sex gives it away, haven’t let the D word slip so far, Leon’s banking on it being soon though.

He pets your head before you leave the house one day, you beam up at him, apples of your cheeks rounded with how hard you're smiling. “Love you, daddy!” You chirp all too loudly, jaw dropping open a moment later at your own blunder. Then you skitter out the front door unnervingly like a deer with CWD.

Called it. Made a bet on it even. Leon takes fifty out of his savings account, owes it to himself. You looked awful upset, he sends you a message, tells you to be safe, text him when you meet your friends. You do. Somehow, even the message is clipped. Poor baby, you’re embarrassed. The colour had drained from his face when you said it. You’d noticed for sure.

You’re younger than him, much younger. Too many years younger. An age gap that makes his head spin. Leon tries not to dwell on it, but it gets real hard. Claire’s always down his throat about it. When you go out in public together, he’ll sneak a hand in your back pocket and get stared down by every passer-by. He’s been asked if he’s your dad before. Blow to his ego. Considered botox and filler for the entirety of the following week. Certainly not your dad, possibly your daddy. Now you’ve cemented that in place - you want Leon to be your daddy, and he’ll fill those shoes.

Even if it leaves a bad taste on his tongue, even if it makes his skin crawl. Leon is willing to lay down his life for you half of the time, best thing that ever happened to him, so what harm is a little DDLG gonna do? He just needs to get comfortable with it, refamiliarise himself with all the lingo. How hard could it be? The guilt? He can get over it, even if it clings to him like a festering scab.

When you come back home it’s late, he barely hears your footsteps. You’ve learnt how to make yourself scarce when returning on late nights, Leon’s a light sleeper. A jumpy one at that. He smells jasmine when you pull back the covers, the mattress dips and he turns to face you.

“Fuck!” You gasp, brows pinched together, he runs his thumb over the divot that’s formed between them. “You scared me, Leon.”

“Not that ugly am I?” He juts his bottom lip out, it pulls a laugh out of you, and that makes him smile. You were emanating gloom and doom the second you stepped into the bedroom. Clear skies now.

“Never, you’re sooo handsome.” You kiss the tip of his nose, smear pink Vaseline on it.

“You know just what I wanna hear, don’t you, baby?” Apart from daddy. He’d make the joke, but you’d likely flip out. Leon shuts his mouth. He’s gotten better at doing that lately. Must be the effect you’ve had on him. “Baby?”

“Yes?”

“About today—“

“Leon.” It’s a warning.

“Baby.”

“Leon.” Clearly you want to brush it under the rug. “It was just a slip-up, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, so can we just drop it?” Uh, woah, someone’s defensive.

“Baby, it didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Leon strokes your cheek, his cold hands warmed by the heat of your dewy skin. It made him mildly uncomfortable. That’s ‘cause he grapples with all these I’m a dirty old man that deserves to be crucified, Claire’s right I’m a fucking cradlerobber, I should let her go, I’ll be dead by the time she’s ready to get married thoughts. You’re this pretty young thing and it makes him tremendously nervous.

“I saw your face, Leon, I’m not stupid.” You’re getting huffy now, fluffing the pillows and turning away from him.

“Babe, I was just surprised, pinky promise.” Leon sticks his pinky finger into your line of sight, there’s silence, then the sheets ruffle and you’ve lifted your hand, shorter pinky wrapping around his.

“Like, pinky swear, Leon?” You sound so small, so scared, his heart aches.

“Baby,” he coos, “light of my life, angel, apple of my fuckin’ eye, sugar, dollface,” you hang onto every word, eyes getting bigger and wider by the second, “I knew the minute you showed me those Sylvanian Families.” You smack his chest and he laughs in your face.

“You’re an asshole and I hate you so much.” When he touches your cheek again, you’re burning up, he places a kiss behind your ear. “Stupid old man.”

“C’mon, baby, you think I’m dumb? You gave them names.” The Persian Cat triplets are named Serena, Nate and Blair. From Gossip Girl of course, he didn’t know what that was. Tedious is his review. Leon thought Henry, Tommy and Jimmy were more fitting names. You didn’t understand the reference. “You buy ‘em little plates and forks and cups, they’re living better than us, baby.” And that’s a fact. You splurged on a Red Roof Country House. Far nicer than his apartment, once empty, now filled with junk like that. No, it’s not junk, it’s his baby’s stuff, trinkets that make her happy.

“What if I just liked them?” You’re glaring at him, cutely of course, everything you do is saccharine.

“Just adds up, don’t it?” Leon gives you a big, wet kiss on your pouty lips. Tastes roses. Literally. He just swallowed a bunch of pink Vaseline. “What I wanted to say ‘fore you got all pissy on me,” he swallows the lump in his throat, fuck it, how bad could it go, he’s just making his favourite girl happy, “I don’t mind tryin’ it out.”

Rules are implemented the following morning, albeit loosely. Leon doesn’t have a lot of control over things, the DSO has jurisdiction over him, got him by the balls. And in turn, Leon’s just learnt how to take it like a good bitch. You handed him a pink glitter pen and a page from your Hello Kitty notebook. Asked him so sweetly to make a general set of rules, so you know how to be a good girl for daddy. Leon sprung a boner so fast he got nauseous. And that’s not even the sex part of this arrangement. He uses his black ballpoint pen, pink glitter isn’t his thing. Plus, it doesn’t show up on the paper.

You giggle when he hands them over to you; Leon’s ears flush pink. He’ll get better at it, swear. He wants to do well for you. Wants you to feel satisfied with his quote caregiving unquote.

It starts off slow, you hand him your toothbrush in the morning, Leon blinks at you in pure and utter befuddlement. You say Ah! like you would at the dentist and he gets it. Leon sits you on the closed lid of the toilet seat, making sure to get your molars, your canines, front teeth, and all the remaining ones. Five seconds each. Or he tries at least. You’re quite meticulous in this headspace, letting out a disgruntled noise when he fails to be precise.

Then you sit on the mat while he showers, like a puppy, didn’t even notice you were there until he opened the sliding door. “Hi there, babydoll.” Leon wraps a towel around his waist, “whatcha doin’ down there?”

“Waiting for daddy.” You tell him plainly, then trail after him as he gets ready. Right. He’s gotta pick out your clothes. What if you don’t like them? You’re so fussy with your style, spend hours tossing piece after piece out of the wardrobe, stomp your feet when the blouse you wanted to wear is in the laundry. Right now, you’re totally placid, lifting your arms when he asks as he puts you in a ribbed pink sweater and the frilly skirt you’re so fond of, knee high socks per usual, Mary Janes to finish it off. Oh. Yeah. This is bad. He’s in deep. You’re too cute. He thinks he wants to be your daddy forever.

“My dad’s been wanting to see you, Leon.” Ashley’s all grown up now, which makes him feel a bit sappy. Hypocritical really, he’s got a college girl back at home calling him daddy.

Dad… Daddy, I love you, when are you coming home?

Leon blinks to clear his mind, gives Ashley a plastic smile. “How’s he been?”

“Oh, you know how it is, he got a little sick over Halloween, but that guy, he’s always up and kicking.” Ashley brings a vanity out of her pocket, reapplies her lipstick. “Overall, he’s been good.”

Good girl, am I a good girl, daddy?

Jesus Christ, get a grip, man. “I’m glad, should take a rest that guy.”

“I know!” Ashley moves her plate to the side and lays out her entire makeup case on the table, picking out mascara. When he looks closely, her round mirror is printed with a vaguely familiar cartoon bunny. “He never listens, hasn’t been President for decades and he just works and works and works. That’s why you should call, tell him to take it easy.”

“What’s her name?” Leon frowns, jabs his thumb towards the compact.

“My Melody!” She answers, grinning at him with her pearly whites.

My Melody, Kitty, Keroppi, and Mimi, did you write that down, daddy? And there’s—

“Aren’t you too old for that, Ash?” Leon raises his brow, he’s not serious though, and she can tell.

“Hey, I liked Sanrio before it was cool in 2004, okay?” She tosses it all back in her clutch. Ashley’s too nice, if it were Claire she’d bite back with Aren’t you too old for your girlfriend, loser? And that would shut him up. “It was nice seeing you, Leon, I wanna meet your girlfriend next time, she seems sweet. And don’t forget to call dad, I’ll drop his number later.”

Call dad… Daddy? Daddy.

“Leon, don’t you think Chris looks like our dad?” Claire’s hijacked the DSO break room once again, she’s in town for some TerraSave presentation thingy. He wasn’t listening. Eyes glassed over as he gazes endlessly at her phone screen.

Dad. Dada. Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy.

“Huh?” Leon says dumbly.

Claire levels him with her stare. “You’ve been out of it today, what’s up?”

“Nothing.” He shrugs nonchalantly, wipes his clammy palms on his jeans. “Just didn’t sleep well.”

“Uh huh.” Claire’s not convinced. Shit. She totally knows. She sees right through you, Leon. She knows what dirty shit you’ve been up to, can see the shame on your face, and she’s building her case against you. “Anyway,” she begins, voice holding onto it’s suspicious edge, “I was saying, I found this photo album of our parents, doesn’t Chris look so much like dad?”

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Fuck. He needs a lobotomy. Stat. This is taking over his fucking life. A sizable chunk of his brain was removed in his sleep, and it’s been replaced by pink mushy goo. Different to the pinkish brain matter that resides inside one’s head. More a glittery pink goop that morphs into the shape of you. You’re jumping around in there, sliding down the sulci and fissures in his brain, lodging yourself deep in his mind. Making it your playground.

“You’re fucking impossible to talk to, Leon. You know that?” What’d you say Claire? He can’t hear you over the impossibly disgusting, perverted thoughts running through his mind.

The second he gets home, Leon is on you. Face between your tits, knee keeping your thighs open, kissing you breathless. “Daddy!” You giggle, delighted by the wave of affection.

“Babydoll,” Leon rubs his stubble against your cheeks to hear you squeal, “Daddy missed you so much.”

“I missed daddy sooo much too!”

“Oh, yeah? How much did you miss daddy?”

You stretch your arms as wide as they go. “This much, daddy!” Fuck. Holy fucking shit. He needs to start going to weekly mass again.

“Yeah?” Leon peppers kisses all over your little face, forehead to your neck, “what’d ya get up to?”

“Mmm,” you hum, tapping a finger against your lip thoughtfully, “coloured, ate ‘n got sleepy, daddy.”

“What an eventful day that is, baby.” Leon kisses your nose. “You colour something for daddy?” He needs to put his dick in you before he explodes.

“Mhm,” your lashes flutter when he sneaks a hand up your loose sweater, hanging off your shoulders, swallowing you up, “I put it in daddy’s office…” Your breath hitches when he rolls your pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Daddy’s gonna hang it on the fridge tonight then.” Leon mumbles, too busy shoving his naughty hand down your pyjama shorts, cupping your mound. Your fingers tremble as you lift the hem of your sweater, baring your tits for him, he takes your nipple into his mouth. Bites down to hear you gasp. Latches on like a damn baby, groping the other tit roughly.

“Daddy,” you whimper, and the sound alone makes his dick twitch. Leon pulls off with a pop, spit dripping down his chin.

“I know, baby,” Leon coos, “daddy’s gonna take care of you.” Dirty old man! blares Claire’s voice in the back of his mind. Leon can’t find it in himself to care. Watch this, bitch. “You want daddy to play with your princess parts, babydoll?” You heard that right, princess parts. He’s been sucked in that deep.

You nod, brows pinched together as you bunch up the sheets in your curled fists. Leon clicks his tongue, presses a kiss below your belly button. “Words, baby.” He reminds you, his tone delicate, only lightly chiding.

“Need daddy… need him to play with me,” it’s barely a mumble, but Leon takes it. He knows how jumbled your head gets in this mindset. Poor baby, play with your clit and it turns you all stupid.

Leon gets to work. He’s been waiting for it all day, to get his mouth on this perfect cunt. He spreads you out, urges you to go wider, as far as you can. Licks over the fabric of your cotton panties, his nose nestled against your swollen clit, sucking on the wet patch on the gusset. The constant nudge of his nose against your clit is making you antsy, your chest rises and falls, your fingers itch to tug at his hair, but you’re an obedient girl so you keep them down by your sides. Clutch at the sheets till your nails break.

He continues to lick and suck at your leaky centre through the fabric for an eternity. You have your complaints, but you can’t say no to daddy. That’s, like, against the rules. So Leon has his fun, maybe a little too much fun. You let out a strained noise, and enough is enough, you’re being so good for him, so patient. His little girl deserves a treat. Once you’ve creamed your panties that is.

“God,” you toss your head back and melt when his tongue flattens over your bare folds, he’d thrown your panties into the laundry basket a minute prior, good aim.

“Hey, give me some credit, baby,” Leon takes a break from tongueing you down, “God’s not doing shit down here, it’s all your daddy.”

That makes you giggle. Then you call out daddy so sweetly his brain blanks. He spits on your sticky core, you’re wet enough, but Leon likes it sloppy, wants to feel your mess dripping down his chin. His teeth scrape your clit, pulls the hood back, kitten licks it, kisses it three times for good luck.

“Don’t cover your mouth, baby,” Leon places a big hand on your hip, holds you in place, “Daddy didn’t say you could do that.”

“Sorry… ‘M sorry, daddy,” you whine, the hand once clasped over your mouth falling limp, and you’re moaning like a fucking pornstar. He can’t handle it. That word does something to him, something evil and degenerate.

He pushes your cushiony lips together, pinches your clit when it sticks out, makes the nastiest sounds known to mankind. Messy eater. Schlurping, schmacking, gulping. What he’s gulping down? God knows. Two fingers slip into you, knuckle-deep, wriggle around, scissor you open, his palm mashed into your clit. Leon’s face is resting on your plush thigh, admiring his own handiwork. Your slick cunt, drooling all down his wrist, covered his face in it, now you're cumming in messy spurts.

“Atta girl,” Leon croons, lays it on thick with the praise ‘cause he knows you get shy about this, “that’s right, dollface, just let it all out for, daddy, huh?”

Panting, you curl into yourself, kick your legs a little when his nimble fingers find your sticky clit, he can feel you throbbing. “No more, daddy.” You beg, rubbed raw from the back-to-back orgasms.

“Too much, baby?” Leon’s hand comes to cop a feel, his nose pressing into the nape of your neck. “Can you get daddy off?”

The energy seems to zap back into you within an instant. You nod, head bobbing up and down like it should be doing on his dick. You love having your mouth full, keep his cock down your throat till you go numb. Suckle on it with pride and integrity. You gaze up at him with those eyes, heart-shaped pupils and all, blowjob eyes.

“How’d you want daddy?” Leon asks, you roll over, laying flat on your back, you want him like that? Alright, naughty girl. With your head between his meaty thighs, Leon guides his weeping tip past your swollen lips, you lap at the slit, collecting droplets of his precum on your tongue.

“Shit,” Leon gets out through gritted teeth, covers it with a cough, he shouldn’t really be saying bad words, not setting a good example for his baby. The suction is crazy, feels like he stuck his dick into the tube of a vacuum cleaner. Your cheeks hollow out as he thrusts his hips forwards, tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag each time. Still take it like a champ though. You always do, his good fucking girl. “Doin’ so damn well, baby, makin’ daddy cum.”

Your little hand comes to rest on his abdomen, Leon eases up, lets his fat cock slip out of your mouth, he thinks you’ve had enough, but you go for his balls instead. Open your mouth wide as you try to fit ‘em in your mouth. “No chance, baby.” Leon smiles, patting your head, you lick along the seam and his dick is fucking throbbing. Hail fucking Mary. “Not gonna last, babydoll, can daddy fuck you now or ya need a break?”

You nod, he raises a brow, “No, daddy, I’m fine, daddy. Need daddy in me so bad.” You croak out, throat sore from the time spent with his cock lodged in your windpipe.

That makes him groan. The non-explicit dirty talk is fuckin’ weird, turns him on in ways he can’t explain. He loves when you avoid saying the word pussy, can’t say cock, makes it sound even dirtier. Maybe it’s the control aspect. You can’t say those words ‘cause daddy said so, ‘cause Leon said so.

His dick jumps the second he tries to slide in, bumps against your sensitive clit, shit, that hasn’t happened since he was twenty. Leon grabs your ankles, kisses one before he throws them over his shoulders, uses one hand to guide his dick to your sloppy hole and the other is intertwined with your smaller one. Tender, sappy, sweet. Oh, don’t make him tear up, princess. With age he’s softened up. For you Leon has softened up. Brought back part of who he was before it all went wrong.

“My pretty girl,” he pets your cheek like he does the neighbour’s well-fed cat, and you lean into it all the same. He fills you up so well. No matter how much Leon plays with your pussy, there’s always a stretch, and he can tell by the look on your face. Nose scrunching, lips parting, letting out a sharp breath as the weight of his cock knocks against your cervix. “All done, baby.” Leon tells you, and you open your eyes, sit up on your elbows to see where the two of you meet in a sticky, squelching embrace. “Well done, baby, you’re such a big girl, takin’ all of daddy, aren’t you?” Leon presses his hand down on your lower tummy, his cock angles upwards so he can hit that spongy spot deep inside, the one that makes you sob. “Is it there?”

The cry you let out is the confirmation he needs. He bullies his cock into you, fucks you rough ‘cause he loves you. Making love is for mornings, when you’re sleepy and pliant, nasty fucking is for after work. When he’s pent up, when you’ve been on his mind all day. Leon pulls out, only his tip keeping your cunt spread open, then he slams back in, and you begin to sniffle, squeezing his hand so tight you cut off his blood circulation.

“Daddy,” You drop his hand, nails clawing down his back, his lonely hand suffering from a severe case of pins and needles, “daddy, daddy, daddy— oh, daddy!” It’s the only thing you can say. Stuffed your cunt and your head is full of him too. Leon adores you. Prettiest girl in the whole world and you’re here speared on his cock. Dexterous fingers find your clit once more, helping you reach the edge.

“You can do it, baby, don’t worry, daddy’s here.” Leon dips his head down, kisses you and swallows up your sounds, stringy spit keeping the two of you connected. Red string of fate or whatever. “Daddy’s right here, daddy loves you.”

All it took was the L word, and you’re squirting. Pushing his cock out, dripping down his heavy balls, digging your nails into his back, chanting daddy like your life depends on it. And Leon can’t take it, he’s been ready to bust the second he got home, his stomach contracts, spills his seed into your wet cunt. Messy just how he likes it.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Leon lets his full weight drop on top of you.

You grunt softly, “Heavy, daddy.”

“Yeah, I know, gimme a second.” Leon grumbles, teeth tugging on your earlobe. “How’d you rate me? Five stars? Ten out of ten?”

You yawn into his hair, “Stop bein’ silly, daddy.”

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