#ask falln

Arthur let out a brief, amused chuckle. “In the right situation,” he shrugged, "I’d be a fool to refuse either.”

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From now until late Nov 1st, my muses and I are waiting with our candy bucket, for any brave trick-or-treaters who venture into our inbox!

Send us an ask: trick-or-treat to a certain character, or to me, and have a very Happy Halloween!

“Oh darling! It simply wouldn’t be Halloween if I didn’t hear from you! Thank you for dropping by for a treat!” Grell beamed.

“I know I have a little something for you... Ah, here we are!” The red reaper grinned.  “I hope your holiday is positively devilish!“

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Arthur listened to the girl’s plight, and frowned softly. “Miss, there ain’t nothin’ wrong with yer size. And anyone makin’ ya feel bad about it, they’re an ass. Shoot ‘em in the foot next time someone says somethin’” He grinned, “That’ll shut ‘em up real fast.”

He shifted his stance subtly, before continuing. “You don’t need someone tellin’ you that yer beautiful, t’ be beautiful. Hell... sunsets, and waterfalls, and flowers all existed in their splendor for a long, long time, before anyone came ‘round and said “that’s beautiful!”“

“Sayin’ a woman’s pretty don’t make it anymore true than sayin she’s ugly. It’s an opinion. An opinion only has worth if you believe in it. So, stop agreein’ with the mean things people in your past said. They don’t matter to you no more, and cruel words shouldn’t be given value.” The cowboy stated. Of course, those were things he tried to remember, regarding his own struggling self esteem.

“I know how hard it is. Hearin’ things said ‘bout yourself for so long, that.. well.. ya don’t see how they couldn’t be true, if it’s what everyone’s sayin’.” He shrugged.

"And some days yer gonna want t’ believe ‘em, cause it’s easier than to fight against those thoughts. But ultimately, it’s what -you- think, and what you believe that matters. So, be kind to yourself on the days you don’t feel like fightin’, and stand up for yourself when you can.” He offered, hoping his words made some bit of difference.

“B’sides, beauty and size are not the same thing. A lady’s worth ain’t based on her size, and any jack-ass who thinks it is ain’t got no business doin’ anything with a woman.” Arthur announced.

“Go look at all them paintin’s by… er.. whatshisname… uh.. Rubens? I think that’s him…” He offered offhandedly. “He ain’t the only one paintin’ ladies like that.”

“Anyway, since you asked.” Arthur smirked, “Yeah, I do like curvy women.”

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A crash and muffled shriek sounded out from behind the door, followed by a flurry of curse words. Stomping neared, and the door flew open.

Long scarlet hair was pinned up in to-be curls, by strips of pale fabric; or at least it once had been. A lot of the tendrils had fallen lose, but that was the least of Grell’s concerns. Someone disturbed them.

Scowling, the reaper stared down at the one who had been rapping at their chamber door.

Clearly intoxicated, toting a red lipstick marked wine bottle, with a disheveled dressing gown falling off their slender shoulders, Grell gave a most well thought out and eloquent reply,

“What?”

The reaper squinted over the rim of their glasses, then took a very un-lady-like swig direct from their bottle of Merlot.

“Llllloook, if you’re here *hic* ..here for, hmm.... the paperwork, ... just tell that bastard William he can find it in the hedges!”

Grell wobbled a little, burped, and murmured out a half-hearted “pardon”, before wiping their mouth with the back of their hand; which only further smeared the once perfect crimson that marked the reapers lips.

The awkward staring continued for the span of a few seconds, when an epiphany struck.

“Oh!! ... Myyy heavens..! .. You’re here for sweeties, aren’t you?!” Only the first few words were spoken at the door, the rest were called from down the hall while the inebriated shinigami frantically searched around.

More curls had come lose by the time Grell stumbled back to the door. “I have jusss the thing, darling.” The reaper in red grinned, exposing rows of shark-like teeth as they leaned forward, plopping the nearly empty bottle of wine into Cathryn’s trick-or-treat basket.

“There you are!” Grell slurred.

“Happy Halloween!”

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Same, my dear Anon!

Unfortunately I am but a facilitator for the dumb shit that cowboy does >.Much of the time, I’m just as surprised as you are by what’s going on!

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Congrats! You’re an uncle again!

New baby.

.... the crotch-goblin named him Snoofie. Snoofie Master-Scratcher.

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Oooh my gods! He’s so cute!

I’m proud to be an uncle to new little Snoofie XD (this is what happens when you let goblins name goblins btw ^_~ )

And I see he’s already living up to his Master-Scratcher surname.

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“Hello dear-grey-face, Happy Halloween to you as well!” Grell grinned, presenting the Anon with a treat.

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