#I have some really old markers I wanna finish

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi!! I have a one shot request (I hope I’m in the right place lmao)

What about a autistic (fem)reader who is super smart and seems to notice things about the case that the others haven’t and every time she tries to state her thoughts a rude sherif cuts her off/infantilising her and Emily defends her

Honestly my brain stopped at the thought of Emily, I need more of her 😔🫶

-anon ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

fem plus size autistic!reader, wc: 517.

a/n: i have had this finished but sitting in my drafts because i was too lazy to post it, but here it is! i hope that i was able to capture what you were looking for right! :] this can either be read as platonic or romantic!

cw! asshole elders :/

You have been spoken over and shut down for the past hour, twenty minutes, and thirty seconds. 

You hated being silenced, but one thing that trumps that was being infantilized. You worked hard to get where you were now, and you hated being treated like a child just because your way of thinking was different from your peers. 

You have saved thousands of people and you’ll be damned if you continue to be treated like this.

“If you look closely, you can see that the area that these women were killed in must hold some kind of sentimental meaning to our unsub.” You grab the black marker and go to draw the inevitable triangle on the printed out map before you’re stopped by the sheriff.

 “Hold it now, sweetheart. Don’t just go markin’ up stuff.”

“I beg your pardon?” You ask with furrowed eyebrows.

“I’m sure the area these women were killed in was just pure coincidence, so we don’t wanna risk coloring in the paper just ‘cause you think you know somethin’.” He spoke as if he knew more than you did like he was the one with the degree, his tone absolutely rolling in condescension. 

“I’m sorry but –” You try to say but the old fart cuts you off. “I’m sure you are –”

“Excuse me, sheriff, but I’m afraid Special Agent _______ made a great point.” Emily was quick to come to your aide, emphasizing the words ‘Special Agent’ just to reinforce her point.

You could see it in her narrowed eyes, and everyone else’s really, that she was about done with the Sheriff’s embarrassingly large ego. You send her an appreciative – albeit shy – smile, and she gets up, her eyes trained on the map as well. 

“She’s right, because if you look here,” She points to the first crime scene and motions for you to draw a mark. “And here,” Her finger trails down to the second location and you follow close behind. “And here.” Her path finally ends, and so does your black ink. 

There it was, just like you had first thought, a perfect triangle connecting them all.

“The most important thing should be right –” You finish her words and color in a big circle in the middle. “Here.” Emily sends you a proud look and it threatens to weaken your knees.

“I mean… I suppose that makes sense.” The man grumbled before leaving with his tail between his legs. 

“Thank you.” You say quietly. The conversation was meant to be kept between the two of you. Of course you loved and trusted everyone on your team, but Emily was your comfort person, and she made time to understand you.

“No problem,” She responds back. “Everyone was done with his shit anyway.”

“Still, thank you.” You pressed the conversation, because you don’t really think she realized the gravity of the situation, of your appreciation. 

For most of your life you had never been given a voice, and having someone stick up for you and even paving the way for you to make your point known was something that no gratitude could give.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[wing-dingy]

Remember when I said I wasn't gonna post fanfics? I lied. I'm gonna post just this one as an excuse to have some Johnshi in my life but also because its rare I write a fic that isnt a self indulgent oc fic

This is just a lil fic where Kenshi comforts Johnny after a stunt on set leaves him with an injured ankle, mostly cute banter. Also sorry if the formatting looks weird, i dont normally post fics to tumblr so idk how to space my paragraphs like I do on google docs.

Click. Step. Click. Step.

The Hollywood actor carried himself on his crutches across the room, from the door to his living room couch, where he saw Kenshi waiting in anticipation.

“Honey, I'm home,” Johnny announced in a parody of those old movies, how he loved his dumb movie references.

“Doesn't sound like good news. Are those crutches?” Kenshi asked, judging by the sound and the patterns of the sound. Though he usually relied on Sento for sight, he hardly ever felt the need to in a casual setting, so it rested in the mantle above the fireplace.

“Yeup. Doc says I'll need ‘em for a few weeks, a month at most.”

Kenshi crossed his arms and leaned back on the couch. “Was that stunt still worth it?”

Johnny snorted, “Totally, the shot came out perfect! You may not know this, but I do all of my own stunts. Impresses everybody when I tell them that!” He dropped a small paper bag of his prescribed painkillers on the coffee table and sat next to Kenshi, wincing as he lifted his ankle to rest it on the same table.

“Aren't stuntmen used so the real actors don't get hurt?”

“I mean- yeah. But don't worry, they're just gonna film everything else until I come back, which should be in no time. I'm just built different.”

Kenshi could just hear the cocky smile, causing him to shake his head in disbelief, but he couldn't hold back the small bit of laughter at Johnny’s pride and confidence. “Alright, but it looks like it's my turn to take care of you again.”

“Don't sweat it, Ken doll, I can take care of myself. You've already helped me enough, and you've got yourself to look after,” He noted all too seriously. Obviously there still rested some guilt in his heart over Mileena's rabid attack that day.

“That ankle needs to rest. That movie needs you and you need the money from it.” Undeniable. Johnny was still getting back on his feet (not literally now) after a messy and expensive divorce, he needed whatever work he could get at the moment. “You just let me know when you need something.”

Johnny sighed as he looked down at his injured ankle. These next few weeks were going to be the most boring while of his life.

Kenshi seemed to know Johnny wasn't feeling so good by the sudden quietness, not even a silly request from his offer. When Johnny of all people was quiet, there was a problem. “Johnny? You alright?”

“Yeah… I've just never been good at sitting still and doing nothing, you know? Now I can't even use my own pool in my living room,” He complained, as if having a pool in the living room was a normal thing.

“Come on, Johnny, you still have a whole mansion. Unless your attention span really is that small, you're not gonna get bored,” Kenshi lovingly poked at him. “It’s not like you're alone either.”

Johnny noded with a small smile of comfort. “That's right, I've got you, my best friend, boyfriend, and assigned FBI agent,” Johnny joked. Gods, not again with the assigned FBI agent meme. “And hey, maybe we can invite Kung Lao and Raiden over to hang out. You think Liu Kang would wanna drop by?”

Kenshi gave an amused smirk. “Probably not, but Kung Lao, might.”

Johnny looked down at the table again, spotting a marker. He groaned and wheezed as he leaned over to grab it, trying not to move his ankle off the table as his finger tips barely touched the marker.

“Johnny what are you-” Before he could finish his question, he felt a marker tapping against his hand.

“You wanna be the first to sign my cast?” Johnny offered, trying to play it off cool but his excitement was slipping past in his voice.

“You mean Hollywood’s megastar wants my autograph?” Kenshi teased. He took the marker into his hand, and Johnny guided his hand down to his cast. Confidently, Kenshi began writing his name.

“Not bad writing for someone who can't really see,” Johnny complimented, meaning it obviously and trying to make it sound like that rather than a mockery.

“I still know the motions of writing, that's enough to get by.” Of course Johnny hadn't seen Kenshi's messier writing at his job and maybe it should stay that way.

The real surprise was the small heart he drew right below his own name. Kenshi wasn't so into PDA, nor into cutesy stuff like that, so it caught Johnny off guard to see the small display. It wasn't like people didn't know they were dating, Johnny was way too into showing off their love and too loud to keep that secret, but it was rather that Kenshi was a more subtle lover when it came to their relationship, preferring to keep things behind doors. Still, it was a nice surprise, and at least now it made the cast way better to look at! Of course Johnny was already pulling out his phone to snap a photo of it to post to his socials.

“You're posting your cast, aren't you?” Kenshi reasonably accused.

“Gotta let the fans know production might be on hold.”

“Is that it? Or are you bragging about us again?”

Johnny snickered, meaning Kenshi was right. “Okay, you got me, but how can I not show you off? You're the coolest! A blind swordsman? Dating Hollywood's biggest hit? We're like a power couple!”

If Kenshi still had his eyeballs, he'd be lovingly rolling them, but admittedly it was kind of cute seeing how enthusiastic Johnny was about their relationship- and kind of funny to think about considering they were previously rivals over Sento.

Kenshi leaned in to press a kiss to Johnny's cheek, and he could feel the wrinkles of a smile under his lips. “Looks like you're feeling better about that ankle.”

“As long as I have you by my side, this injury is gonna be a breeze!” Now it was Johnny's turn to lean in, this time leaning to rest his head on Kenshi with closed eyes and a content smile. Kenshi reciprocated by wrapping an arm around Johnny to hold him. “Shit, that medicine they gave me is starting to catch up.”

“You get sleepy off of a couple Tylenols,” Kenshi playfully quipped, making Johnny laugh.

“Just saying it's a good excuse to nap on you! Unless you're gonna tele-fling me to bed again.”

Kenshi shook his head. “Maybe when your ankle isn't as broken. Right here is fine, just keep your ankle up.”

“Sweet,” Johnny happily murmured as he felt himself starting to doze off. Damn, Tylenol really did knock him out.

[lordeemailarchive]

Pure Heroine turns 10

(27/09/2023) (PH 10 YEAR ANNIVERSARY DISPATCH)

Living in Ruins of a Palace within My Dreams

Photo by Simeon Patience

Hi,

Firstly, I wanna say thank you for your extremely supportive and kind messages after my last newsletter. I genuinely feel deeply cared for, less alone, and more sure that things will be okay after sending it! Albeit with a slight overshare hangover. I think a part of me knew that I had hit a wall, and that I needed to invite in the compassion and understand I’d been struggling to generate on my own, and then I’d have something to draw from and mirror. It feels like it’s working. I feel incredibly grateful that we have this relationship, that we can each give when the other needs it. Beautiful stuff x

Now, might U have noticed it’s 2013 mode round here????????? Yes that’s right, it’s a very special anniversary… Pure Heroine is... ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡TEN ˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚ YEARS ˚༘♡ ⋆｡˚ OLD ੈ✩‧₊˚ TODAY ! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

You may (like me most of the time) hold the opinion that this album has been MYTHOLOGISED QUITE ENOUGH, but a milestone is a milestone, so I thought coming here and typing some shit to u about this time would be a fun thing for those who care.

2 xxxxtra special ltd time only commemorative designs by Hassan, who did the original of this bootleg tee 10 years ago❤️

It’s close to midnight, and I’ve just finished scrolling through my entire computer and phone archive from 2011-2013. Going on this memory lane ride has reminded me, for one thing, what a different time it was technologically. We were just starting to be able to see ourselves in real time, but we weren’t constantly connected. I had an iPod touch until halfway through 2013, which didn’t have a front camera or internet access, and my sister and I shared a MacBook, which is where we did our schoolwork and I wrote my lyrics. I took my first few years of selfies on Photo Booth…. Just let that… sink in!!!

Note the Royals Nat Geo pic in background— it’s happening...

When I was fourteen, my greatest work of art was my bedroom. A very cool, very classic teenage bedroom, Andie’s and Duckie’s from Pretty in Pink meets the Virgin Suicides— fairy lights, fabric on the ceiling, candles, stolen road signs (badman), paper lanterns, beer crate shelves, magazine pictures and club night posters and permanent marker on the walls. Bliss! I’d sit up there and vibe out, taking a lot of selfies. Creating a small-scale work of art using the self, and then examining the product from every angle, was the best method I had to express myself and exercise creativity at that time, and I now see it as an important PH incubation phase, whether I knew it or not. Something really amazing about a young person starting to see their own face and body for the first time, coming to a very secret understanding that they are beautiful. 

I started to smoke weed, which gave me a deeper understanding of sensory pleasure, and allowed me to start to see my world as a possible work of art. I’d go on long walks around the neighbourhood, and began to mythologise the stuff around me (big empty floodlit rugby fields/bus rides/dark streets/boredom/isolation) into the motifs that would become Pure Heroine. I wore a lot of like, navy lipsticks from the 2 dollar shop. God, this aesthetic, It’s just TOO MUCH.

At some point in here, I met Joel, and another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. When you’re a teenager, you’re particularly sensitive to adults being condescending to you, not respecting the specific and finely tuned skills you have because of the ones you don’t. I was always on the look out for it, and from the first day meeting Joel, I knew that he would never give me that feeling. Which I’m sure wasn’t easy — my wallet at the time was the foot of a pair of tights that I cut off and knotted at the top — but somehow from the very beginning he made me feel like my ideas had value, like we were peers, in the most sensitive and age-appropriate way. 

My view for thousands of hours making this album

We got on a call earlier this week and broke down the complete history of making the album. We both agreed that making Pure Heroine was deeply exciting and intimate and free, and still one of our most treasured experiences. I’ve linked it here.The second half of 2013 is when I really met the world, went to America and Australia and Europe for the first time. I found an incredible (for some reason Christmas themed) disposable camera image of my stage outfits all over the floor of my hotel room, which really sums up how ad hoc everything was at the beginning — a jetlagged sixteen year old, late for lobby call and frantically stuffing thousands of dollars of borrowed clothes into a suitcase. 

In this stage, it felt like I pulled everything off by the skin of my teeth. Every week was the most exciting week of my whole life, I was so tired and still didn’t have a winter coat and took everyone clamouring for a piece of me completely for granted. I had zero cultural context, had no idea if an interview or TV show was huge or small, and so breezed through it all truly not giving a fuck. I am not a naturally nonchalant person, it was literally just too much to care about, I could hardly get up in the morning, so I just said absolutely whatever I felt like, all kinds of wild shit, if someone did something corny I’d say so, I was ruthless in that way that only teens are. Then through that year we went on our first tours, met you guys for the first time, hours and hours of hugs after the show, my favourite part so far and where it started to feel real for me. James took a lot of beautiful film photos through that time, and I’m really grateful he did.

Ten years goes really fast. One minute you’re wearing a leather collar with a giant crystal hanging off it to a Chanel party, and the next you’re blonde. A lot of stuff isn’t good after ten years. But I am still totally touched by this sweet record. I have deep respect for the vision of the little one making it. 

Going back through all of this has reminded me of something that feels important to point out, whether you make art or not: everything starts out as a bunch of bullshit in a laptop. Pure Heroine was a handful of Photo Booth selfies and emotional Word documents and Tumblr posts (and a gorgeous over-decorated bedroom) before it was even one song. I had no reason, on paper, to believe that I was capable of anything. But if you can trust that the first impulse you had to create came from a place of deep wisdom, develop a few principles for your decision-making, and absorb a lot of stuff you find inspiring, you’ll have something special on your hands. Pure Heroine exists because I had the tiniest inkling of what I’ve now come to see as one of my guiding principles: that each of us have a handful of songs inside us that are ours, and only ours, to sing. Your specific interests and upbringing and physiology and experiences exist only in you; you are sitting on a gold mine that no one can rob. Whatever that means to you, whatever that statement you were born to make is, I invite you to take a big breath and make it.

All my love for another ten years of all this, and more, and more—

Ella XXXXXXXXXX

(source: received this email)

[m9rtality]

Lunchbox Friends

SYNOPSIS ; Sometimes the friends you meet randomly are better than the ones you've known for years.

CONTENT WARNING — Angst, one-sided friendship

GENRE — Angst , Happy ending

“I don't want no lunchbox friends”

I sat down with my friend group, it was just Tighnari, Alhaitham, Nilou, Cyno, Kaveh, Dehya, Candace and I. They all talked but whenever I tried to talk I was ignored, this often happened so I usually just ate my food and left, it wasn't like they noticed anyways. I finished my food and stood up with my empty lunch tray and put it on the cart before leaving the lunch room. I sat down outside in the courtyard, my back rested against the big oak tree. I usually sat here after eating and leaving my friend group to talk, it was a quiet and closed off space that I liked to be in during the rest of lunch or the entirety of lunch.

For a long time now I had been wondering if I should just, find new friends. But I’m not sure if I can because I’m not the most social person so I don’t really know if I’d have the guts to try and start a conversation with someone, let alone my own friend group. I sighed softly as the bell rung, getting up and walking back inside of the school building. I walked through the hallway, I felt my chest hurt as I watched my friends happy together without even noticing my absence, I shook my head as I just walked to my next class.

I sat down at my desk, I screamed internally as the class started to get flooded with students. The teacher walked inside and waited for students to sit down and stop talking. “Alright class, that’s enough, onto today’s lesson.” The teacher started with as she walked to the whiteboard and started to write on it, she wrote ‘GROUP HISTORY PROJECT’ on the board, some students cheered while others groaned, I was one of the few that groaned because I didn’t have anyone to partner with. “You can pick your own groups, if you don’t have one I’ll assign you one.” she spoke before people started to move with their groups, I sat in my seat as I looked at the other groups. I was shocked when 4 people came up to my desk and sat down.

“I’m Hu Tao! This is Ayaka, Xiao and Scaramouche.” The brown haired one said, I now knew as Hu Tao smiled as the other girl Ayaka spoke. “I hope you don’t mind us just adding you to our group, we say you didn’t have a group so we thought we’d just invite you to ours.” Ayaka spoke as the two guys Scaramouche and Xiao nodded. I smiled softly as I looked at all of them, “I don’t mind at all, I’m glad someone chose me to be in their group or else I’d have to be forcefully put in a group with people that didn’t want me there. So, what nation do you guys wanna work on for the project?” I asked as I pulled out my notebook, Xiao spoke up for the first time and said “How about the nation you’re from?” Hu tao, Ayaka and Scaramouche all nodded in agreement, I smiled again from their interest in me, “I’m from Natlan, so I know some of the history about it already involving the old archon, Murata.” I spoke as I started to write down notes about Natlan. “I’ll start on the research with Xiao.” Scaramouche spoke as he pulled his laptop out of his bag along with Xiao. “I’ll buy markers, a poster board and other things to decorate it. Just send me things you’d think would look good!” Ayaka spoke up as she started to type some things down on her phone, “I’ll decorate the poster board!” Hu Tao said excitedly as she wrapped her arm around Ayaka’s shoulder with a silly smile.

“What should I do?” I asked as I wrote down some facts about Natlan and about the ancient Pyro Archon “You can just write down things you already know and make the poster organized!” Hu Tao spoke as she helped Ayaka select things for the poster board.

“I want someone who understands”

I ran around Ayaka’s kitchen island as Hu Tao chased me with a mischievous look on her face. “GET BACK HERE Y/N” Hu Tao yelled as she chased me around, I ran while screaming and laughing, “SCARA PROTECT ME!!” I yelled as I ran towards him and jumped on him, Xiao snickered as Ayaka laughed quietly, Scaramouche laughed as well as Hu Tao yelled “DOGGY PILE!!” before she jumped on Scaramouche as well, Xiao and Ayaka shrugged before following Hu Tao, Scara and I groaned at the weight of all our friends on top of us.

“Dude did you hear that Nilou got caught cheating on her exams for college?” Hu Tao said as she ate her lunch, I gasped and snickered as Ayaka looked shocked. “Honestly, I don’t understand how you hung out with the Sumeru kids Y/N.” Xiao said as he ate his almond tofu, I shrugged as I looked over to my old lunch table and was shocked to see them staring at me. It’s been a while since I had sat with them and they were just now noticing my absence, I was shocked to hear Ayaka yell “STOP STARING AS IF THEY DROPPED YOU!” every one at our lunch table was shocked to hear our sweet Ayaka yell, but it made my old friends turn away quickly as we went back to eating and gossiping with each other.

I sniffled softly as I leaned my head on Scaramouche’s shoulder while we watched our friends attempt to cook me my comfort food because I cancelled our plans and they showed up to my house just to figure out was was wrong and comfort me. I was glad they came because they helped me get back to my usual self. I was brought out of my thoughts when I felt Scara’s hand rubbing my shoulder as he whispered to me “You okay?” he asked, to which I just smiled in response and whispered back “I’ve never been happier.” I felt his cheek rest again my head as Ayaka brought me a plate of my comfort food as they all ate the leftovers.

“Come to my house, let's die together”

“We’ll be friends after we finish this project right?” I asked as I looked at the 4 people I called my friends, we were about to present the project and I was scared I’d have to go back to my old friend group. “Of course we will silly!” Ayaka spoke as she smiled at me, “You’re way to deep in to get rid of us now.” Hu Tao snickered while Xiao nodded and Scaramouche ruffled my hair, “I’m glad I’m too deep in because I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I smiled as Hu Tao pulled us all into a big group hug.

We got an A on the project and still, we obviously stayed friends. Hu Tao would always make plans for us to do during breaks and the weekends for us to do instead of sitting around all day. I’m glad that they invited me to their group because I wouldn’t have it any other way. I was in a happy relationship with Scaramouche and we all always hung out. We finally graduated high school and now Hu Tao and Xiao were visiting Liyue and Ayaka went home to Inazuma over our last summer break before college. Scaramouche took me to Inazuma to meet his mom and sister before taking me to visit his aunt Makoto’s grave, after our fun trip in Inazuma we went to Sumeru to see his Auntie Rukkhadevata and little cousin Nahida.

“Friendship that would last forever”

It had officially been 6 years since my friend group graduated high school, Scaramouche and I are getting married soon, Hu Tao is chronically single and Xiao & Ayaka have been engaged since they got into college. We always spend time together for the holidays, and we have our own traditions that we’ll pass down to our future kids. Hu Tao is planning on adopting in the future, Xiao and Ayaka have already had their first kids, which happened to be twins and I never thought I’d see Xiao cry but I watched him cry while holding his daughter and son for the very first time, little Kayo was named after her grandmother and little Menogias was named after Xiao’s brother that passed away when he was young. Their children are 3 now and they’ll get a cousin soon..

Our friend group mutually agreed we’d all tell our kids that they’re cousins and have them refer to everyone in the group as Auntie or Uncle, the Kamisato twins will soon meet their cousin, baby Makoto would be coming into the world soon.

“woah.. so that was mom’s story.” A little girl said while she held her toddler brother in her arms, Yasu smiled as they looked at their Auntie Hu Tao while their older cousins Kayo and Menogias helped their mother in the kitchen. “We’re back from the store!” A voice yelled as Makoto and Yasu bolted to the door, “Mommy! Daddy! Auntie Tao told us the story of how you met!” Makoto said excitedly as Scaramouche picked up Yasu, “You gotta be quiet hun, Kana and Kuni are sleeping.” I spoke, carrying the twins in baby wraps.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Five-and-a-Half

Based on the Phic Phight prompt: Danny gets de-aged and Sam and Tucker have to take care of him til he's back to normal without anyone noticing. (from @yellow-rhymes-with-dna)

AO3 Link

[Warnings for mentions of past trauma]

Tucker had gotten used to a lot of strange things over the years, especially with a best friend like Danny. Giant robots controlled by a technologically controlled ghost he could deal with. A blob ghost hunter in a heavily armed mech suit was a piece of cake. An evil ghost king sucking their town into another dimension was more than Tucker alone could take care of, but he could at least keep his cool. Sam Manson showing up at their apartment with a five-year-old Danny was a bit much, even for him.

"Sam, I love you, but what the hell?"

"For the record, this was not my fault," Sam said immediately. "Danny was the one who pissed off Clockwork and got himself kidified. I told him to shut up twice, and we've both told him that the clock tower is not the place to hide from his royal duties."

"Who's this, Miss Sam?" Danny asked, looking up at the goth girl with wide, curious blue eyes. He was so small now that he had to reach his arm almost above his head in order to hold her hand.

"God, your cute," Sam said through gritted teeth, then sighed. "This is Tucker. You remember him, don't you?"

"Tucker?" Danny looked back at his oldest friend, shock written all over his baby-face. The two of them had met in preschool when they were three, and had been together ever since, first as best friends, and now in their little triad with Sam, So even de-aged as he was, Danny should know Tucker. "No way! He's way too big to be Tucker! He's old!" 

"I'm not old! I'm only eighteen!"

"That's so old!"

"How come he calls you 'Miss Sam', all polite like, and he calls me old?" Tucker demanded with a pout. 

"Can you let us in already?" Sam said, rolling her eyes at the question as she pushed past Tucker into the apartment the three of them got together when they started at the local community college. Sam and Danny had both desperately wanted to move out of their parents' houses, and Tucker wasn't about to be left out.

Danny had been so understanding and kind, insisting that they not hold themselves back just because he had to stay near the portal after high school. Of course, Sam and Tucker had completely ignored him and applied to Amity Park community anyway, even though either of them could've gone to a much better college.

"I take it he doesn't have his memories?" Tucker asked, closing the door behind them and going to sit on the couch.

"Nope," Sam confirmed. "He doesn't have his powers either. His body and mind have been completely reverted to his five-year-old self."

"I'm five-and-a-half!" Danny piped up.

"Right," Sam obliged, "his five-and-a-half-year-old self. I figure we'll wait for Clockwork to cool off, finish whatever work Danny interrupted, and then bring him a gift basket of time-pieces or something to butter him up and ask him to put Danny back to normal."

"I'm normal!" little Danny insisted. "I'm totally normal! My sister says so!"

"Of course you are Danny," Tucker agreed. "She didn't mean it like that."

"Until then, we have to make sure nobody sees him like this," Sam continued, "which means we have to keep him here and watch over him, at least for a few hours."

"Do you have any crayons?" Danny asked. "I wanna draw."

"Uh... I think Sam has some markers she might let you use if you ask really nicely," Tucker said, and Sam immediately gave him that look she gave him when she wanted to punch him but wouldn't because she loved him even if he was an idiot.

"Miss Sam, can I pretty please use your markers to draw?" Danny asked, very sweetly, batting his eyelashes the way Jazz used to to get whatever she wanted from grown ups when she was a kid. Sam clenched her fists and her jaw, but, much to Tucker's amusement, she seemed incapable of saying no.

"How did you live like this?" she shouted. Her combat boots pounded on the floor as she trudged to the studio/lab they'd converted the spare bedroom into. "Thank the Ancients I didn't meet him until we were in middle school. He's too damn cute—it's unbearable!"

"Is Miss Sam always such a pushover?" Danny whispered to Tucker.

"Believe it or not, she's usually pretty strict and bossy," Tucker whispered back. "She's just soft on little kids."

"Oh." Danny looked up at him, blue eyes strangely piercing, as if looking right through him.

It was strange. These days, Danny had gotten very good at masking his expressions to hide how he was really fearing. It was a skill he'd learned to hide his fear, to reassure civilians, and to show his enemies he wasn't intimidated, no matter the danger. But over time, that mask had edged into his personal life too. Danny put on a brave face, a reassuring smile, a too-wide grin, but his partners could never be certain what he was truly feeling. It sent a pang through Tucker's heart to see Danny's feelings so openly in his expression.

"Are you really Tucker?" the kid asked. "My best friend Tucker?"

"Yeah," Tucker confirmed. "Actually, I'm your boyfriend Tucker, and Sam's your girlfriend. A few hours ago, you were the same age as us, and then you got turned into a little kid."

"So I get a girlfriend and a boyfriend when I grow up?" Danny asked excitedly. "That's so cool! I must be pretty awesome to get both of them!"

"Tucker!" Sam chided as she came back into the room with her box of expensive, artsy markers. "Don't tell him that!"

"Why not?" Tucker asked. "What's it gonna hurt? It's not like this is his past self, it's his age regressed present self. I'm not changing the past, and if we lie, he'll be upset at us when he turns back." Sam's lips pressed together in a thin line as she considered his argument.

"Fine, I guess it won't do any harm," she relented after a moment. She put a stack of papers on the coffee table, but before she put down the markers she knelt down to look Danny sternly in the eyes. "Now Danny, these are very expensive, and very special markers, and they were a gift from my grandmother. You have to be careful with them and use them gently so you don't mess up the tips because if you do, I'll be sad. Do you understand?"

Danny nodded, brows set in determination. "I got it, Miss Sam! I'll be very careful with your special markers so I don't make you sad, I promise!"

Tucker could almost see Sam biting her tongue to stop from cooing as she put the box of markers on the coffee table and opened it up. She plopped down in front of the couch while Danny knelt next to the coffee table and uncapped a blue marker. "He's... such an earnest kid," she muttered as she leaned into Tucker's side. "It's different."

"Yeah," Tucker agreed softly. "He used to wear his heart on his sleeve. I never thought about it much, but it sucks that he can't really do that anymore."

"We've been by his side for so long, sometimes I forget how much more he's been through than we have." Her brows pulled together in a frown. "Why does he always go where we can't follow?"

For a long moment, Tucker didn't respond. He felt the same way she did. As much as they'd all gone through together, as much as they tried to stay by Danny's side, there always came a point where Danny had to forge ahead without them. "Because somebody has to."

Sam sighed and slipped a little further into Tucker's body, letting him wrap an arm around her. She was undoubtedly thinking of something melancholy that she'd eventually share at a goth poetry slam, but didn't want to talk about with him. Aside from physical reassurance, there wasn't much he could to about it, but he could do that much, and maybe offer a distraction.

"What are you drawing, Danny?" he asked the kid.

"I'm drawing a rocket ship!" Danny chirped, turning his head to grin at Tucker. Then he scrunched up his face. "You can't look yet! It's not done!"

"A rocket ship, huh?" Tucker asked. "Are you gonna draw yourself on the rocket ship?"

"Duh! I'm gonna be an astronaut!" Sam and Tucker wore the same sad smiles when he said that, both remembering the time they had to console him in the aftermath of his first physical exam after the portal accident. He'd discovered that because of his altered physiology, he would never be accepted into any space program, and he'd been utterly distraught. Now he was studying engineering, because he said if he couldn't go to space, at least something he'd built could.

"Can me and Sam be on the space ship with you?" Tucker asked.

"Sure!" Danny agreed cheerfully, his expression back to that beaming smile. "You guys can come with me!"

Tucker's heart ached. How many times had they heard Danny say, "You guys can't come with me. It's too dangerous for you." A dozen times? A hundred? Easily too many to bear, but they bore it anyway.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked. "Is the rocket going to the moon?"

"Nuh-uh," Danny shook his head. "We're going to 51 Pegasi b! They just discovered it a little while ago and it was super exciting! I read in my mom's science magazine that the guys who discovered it got nominated for a Nobel Prize because it's the first planet anyone's found orbiting a star like our sun! Its orbit is just four days long, and they think it might be the core of a decomposed star!"

"That's so interesting, Danny, tell me more," Sam encouraged, and Danny gasped in excitement at the invitation. He hunched over his drawing as he continued enthusiastically babbling about the planet his imaginary rocket was going to. Sam lifted her head to ask quietly in Tucker's ear, "Did he do this a lot as a kid?"

"Yeah," Tucker confirmed. "It's kinda why we got along so well. He would talk a lot about space, and I would talk a lot about computers, and we would go back and forth like it was a conversation, except we were just taking turns talking about completely different topics. Children of STEM parents with highly specific interests gotta stick together, y'know." 

After a while, Danny interrupted his rant about space to show them that he'd finished his drawing. Despite being drawn by the unsteady hands of a five-year-old, they could tell clearly enough what it was. The rocket was gray, and each one of their faces smiled out from one of the three round windows.

"Look, that's me at the front because I'm the one flying the rocket, and Tucker in the middle, and Miss Sam in the back!" he said.

"Wow, Danny, that looks great!" Sam complimented.

"Yeah, I think this one goes up on the fridge," Tucker suggested, eyeing Sam with a devious look. "What do you think, Sam?" She looked back at him with a matching expression.

"Oh definitely," she agreed. Danny was going to be so embarrassed when he was back to normal, and the two of them could practically see their boyfriend's tomato-red face already. Danny grinned and let Sam take the picture from him to stick up on their fridge with one of the little ghost-shaped magnets Sam had bought for them. "Since we're in the kitchen, are you hungry, Danny?"

"I'm hungry!" Tucker said.

"How about some sandwiches," Sam suggested. "What kind do you want, Danny?" She already knew Tucker's favorite sandwich, Turkey, roast beef, and Swiss on rye bread. Since they'd all started dating, she'd even coaxed him into liking some vegetables, though she'd given up on convincing him or Danny to go vegan like her. Her own preferred sandwich was all vegetables, of course. Tucker liked to call it a salad on toast.

"Peanut butter and blackberry jam please!" he asked.

It was kind of funny. The Danny they now knew was so different from the five-year-old awkwardly climbing up onto one of the kitchen stools, but despite all that he'd been through and all that he'd changed, he still liked space and blackberry jam.

"Do you want the crusts cut off?"

"Yes, please!" 

Tucker handed her three plates and cleared his half-finished homework off the kitchen island for them to eat at. He'd been working on it when Sam knocked—she'd forgotten her key and Danny couldn't phase them through the door—and then the situation with Danny had distracted him from going back to it. It was just calculus; he'd finish it later.

Sitting around the island, eating sandwiches, Danny asked them questions about his future.

"Are you guys astronauts?"

"No," Tucker said. "We're in college now. We'd have to finish to become astronauts. I'm studying computer programming."

"That makes sense." Danny nodded. "I remember you like computers and stuff. I'm studying to be an astronaut, right? What's Miss Sam studying?"

"Actually, you're studying engineering," Sam corrected, but when she saw the confusion on Danny's face she backtracked, not wanting to tell the child that he'd never achieve his dream. Once was more than enough. "But engineering is one path to becoming an astronaut." It wasn't a lie, even though she wasn't telling the whole truth. She changed the subject. "I'm studying ecology, with a minor in political science." 

"And we all go to the same school?" Danny asked.

"Yup!" Tucker said. "We go to Amity Park Community College."

"A community college?" Danny frowned. He'd heard enough about college from his parents to know that a community college was not as good as a university, even if he didn't know the difference between the two. "We couldn't get into a University? Mom and Dad went to University of Wisconsin."

"It's not that we couldn't get it," Sam assured him. "We could have gone to much more prestigious—er fancy schools, but we wanted to stay in Amity Park. We have obligations here, at least for the time being."

"What kind of obligations?"

"We hunt ghosts," Sam said, trying to make it sound exciting instead of annoying. Tucker made a cutting motion to stop her from saying it, but it was too late. Danny's expression immediately fell into disappointment and he looked moments away from crying.

"But... but I don't wanna fight ghosts," he said. "Ghosts are stupid!" Sam blinked in surprise and looked to Tucker, only then seeing in his expression that she shouldn't have said that.

"Uh..." she cringed, visibly trying to find a way out of this. She liked kids, but she had no idea how to handle a crying child. Thankfully, Tucker chose that moment to step in.

"Danny, you have to know, that even though we hunt ghosts, none of us are anything like your parents, okay?" Tucker promised, his voice very gentle and earnest, in contrast to his usual sarcasm, a tone which all three of them shared. "Sometimes it's scary, but we would never hurt the ghosts, and we would never try to experiment on them. If they cause trouble, we make them stop, and send them home, safe and sound, okay?"

Danny started to cry, and reached out for Tucker, who picked him up and held him close to his chest, rubbing soothing circles into his back. "I d-don't like ghosts! I d-don't ever w-want to see a ghost!" Danny bawled.

"It's okay, Danny, you're not gonna see any ghosts," Tucker said. "We'll keep you far away from them."

"Y-you promise?"

"I promise."

Slowly, the tears subsided. Danny had tuckered himself out from crying and drawing, and fallen asleep.

"I'm sorry, I thought he'd think it was cool," Sam whispered, so as not to wake the sleeping child in Tucker's arms. "Why'd he react like that?"

"His parents have always been overzealous about ghosts," Tucker responded. "When he was really little, his parents rants scared him a lot. They talked about finding ghosts and running tests, and experiments. Most of their science talk didn't get to him, and he even thought it was cool, but something about ghosts got under his skin, even back then, you know?"

"I wonder why?" Sam said thoughtfully.

"I dunno," Tucker said. He started to shrug, but aborted the action when Danny hummed and shifted in his sleep. "Do you think Clockwork's calmed down yet?"

"It's been two hours for us," Sam said, looking at the clock on the wall. "So probably a year-and-a-half for him? Yeah, probably. The trick is getting him through the Fenton Portal into the Realms without his parents seeing."

"Yeah, and we don't have his invisibility and intangibility to help us out like we usually do," Tucker said. "So what? False tip?"

"Already on it." Sam's phone was already in her hand and she hit the contact for Fenton Works. When she spoke into the phone it was with a low, nasally voice that sounded nothing at all like her own. "Hello, am I speaking to the Fentons, the ghost hunters? Yes, this is Audrey Goldberg, and I have a ghost problem I hoped you could help me with. It's haunting my bathroom. Twelve-nineteen Pine Road. Yes, come as quickly as possible. Thank you." She hung up. "You got Danny?"

"Yup," Tucker confirmed. "Don't forget the key to Fenton Works."

"Right." They headed downstairs and out of their apartment building, walking to Fenton Works since Sam insisted none of them needed to get a car. It wasn't far, even carrying a kid. All the ghost fighting they did had eventually whipped even Tucker into shape. When he first realized he was getting some actual muscle, Tucker had worn sleeveless shirts for weeks. Neither of his partners said anything positive about it, but he knew they secretly love his muscles.

The GAV was long gone when they got there and Fenton Works was empty, allowing them to go in without any resistance. With Danny fully human, thanks to being de-aged, they didn't even set off the ghost sensors. They headed down to the lab and borrowed the Specter Speeder to go to the clock tower.

Navigating the Ghost Zone was a tricky thing, especially since everything within it was constantly in motion, but they'd figured it out, more or less. To be perfectly honest, even they didn't know exactly how they did it, but as long as they got where they needed to go, it didn't matter.

The door to the clock tower swung open when Sam knocked on it and they climbed up to the top, where Clockwork would be.

"Clockwork, buddy, how've you been?" Sam greeted.

"Samantha, Tucker," Clockwork said blandly. "I assume you've come to ask that I revert young Daniel back to his proper age."

"Yes please," Tucker requested. "I don't know exactly what he did to piss you off, but we really can't have our boyfriend as a five-and-a-half-year-old anymore. Humans have laws about that kind of thing."

"Very well, I suppose the Infinite Realms can't have a king so young either, or so human." Clockwork waved his staff and Danny rapidly aged back to his nineteen-year-old self. Tucker's knees buckled under the sudden increase in weight and the pair of them collapsed onto the ground. Danny woke up to sore knees and Sam hunched over laughing at them.

"Thanks so much," Tucker grumbled, trying and failing to sound sincere. "Now that we've got our boyfriend back, we'll get out of your beard."

"From now on, perhaps you'll think twice before coming to bother me just because you're bored, won't you Daniel?" Clockwork asked pointedly.

Danny blushed, and put a hand over his mouth before nodding. "Yeah, yup! Lesson learned."

"You're ears are steaming," Sam teased, even as she offered a hand to help each of the boys up.

"Shut up!" Danny said as she pulled him to his feet before helping Tucker. "Bye, Clockwork. Thanks for not making me go through puberty again."

"And if you don't disturb my work, I never will," the old ghost warned.

The trio headed back down the stairs and to the Specter Speeder. "You guys are gonna take that awful drawing off the fridge, right?" Danny asked.

"Not a chance in all the Realms," Sam said.

"Yeah, no," Tucker agreed. "If you even try to get rid of it, we'll make you regret it." Danny groaned and buried his face in his hand.

"I can't believe I did all that," he mumbled. "I cried like a baby and then fell asleep."

"In fairness, you were five," Sam said.

"I was five-and-a-half!" Danny snapped, put his face in his hands again. "Why did I say that?" His partners just laughed as they climbed into the speeder and flew home.

[nugatorysheep]

uwu can i get the deets about uhhhh,,,

Tower of boys.clip

this was supposed to be shoes idk what happened.png

ML Stevonnie.clip?? >:3c

Tower of Boys is exactly what it sounds like; the main WTL goobers stacked on top of each other

I should really finish this since it's so close to just being done lol I just tend to drag my feet with line art

The shoes wip was me trying to get some Connverse juices flowing but quickly devolved into shitposts because of course it did.... a lot of the sketches on that file have been cleaned up since. The one of Leo and younger Druid got put onto a different file named "munchmunch". I wondered why it was called that until I un-hid the other layers and quickly realized i could not show the rest of the sketches on it publicly XD

ML Stevonnie is an interesting one, it's SUPER old (which is why it still has Von Von on it and not Willow lol)

Cooky helped with their design and I like it way more than my initial conception so like 90 percent of it will stay, but I wanna tweak some things before finalizing it.

Part of what makes a Druid / Sweetheart fusion so difficult is that Stevonnie is androgynous but very feminine leaning and Druid's beard is unquestionable masculine to most people- (Karma get's plenty of he/him despite not using those pronouns). On the other hand though, besides his corruption scars, the beard is his defining character marker, so almost all of his fusions have some form of facial hair. It's a delicate balancing act.

[andreafmn]

12 Days of Ficmas - Day 11

Prompt (by @12-days-of-ficmas): someone answered my daughter’s ‘dear santa’ letter and it’s actually super sweet how kind they’re being

Word Count: 3.1K

Story Description: It's hard being a single mom, especially during Christmas when all you wanna do is give your child a day to remember. But Ellie, (Y/N)'s daughter writes a letter for Santa that somehow falls into the hands of an Avenger.

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bruce Banner x Female!SingleMom!Reader

A/N: Back to not being caught up, but life happens 😅🫣 anywho, Merry Christmas everyone!! Thank you for following along with my stories, it truly has made my year 💖💖

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Dear Santa

Christmas was a hard time for many people. (Y/N) being one of them.

Though she loved her daughter more than anything in the world, it was tough being a single mother. During the holiday of giving there were certain expectations to provide your child with a day to remember. And although she did the best she could every year, she always felt like it wasn’t enough.

It was hard being by herself and doing everything in her power to provide for her daughter. She worked as much as she could without missing important moments with her daughter, Ellie. It was hard but she had managed it for six years already.

“Alright, dude, ready to make your list for Santa?” (Y/N) asked her daughter, sitting down next to her on the floor. “We can make it really pretty.”

“But I don’t want you to see this one, mommy,” the girl said covering the paper. “This one goes straight to the North Pole.”

“Okay, baby. I won’t peek.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, dude,” she laughed. “I promise I won’t look at this one. But I need to at least know what you’ll be asking for Christmas; cause I have to consult with Santa what the budget is.”

“I know, mommy,” Ellie smiled.  “Now, go! I gotta finish this.”

“Geez, you’re pushy today. But, fine. I’ll go to the kitchen and bake some brownies just for me, then.”

“That’s not fair! You have to share.”

“I’ll consider it,” she laughed. “Finish your letters and then we’ll talk.”

(Y/N) left her daughter for the kitchen, watching how she lost herself writing. She uncapped markers and pens, sharpened colored pencils, and brought out the crayons. She did everything to make this the best letter to Santa she had ever written.

Curiosity peaked in the woman as her daughter put her whole energy into the piece of paper in front of her. But she had promised the girl that the letter would remain between Ellie and Santa, and she meant to keep that promise. It would simply get lost in the sea of letters to the North Pole that would never reach the imaginary old man dressed in red.

The next morning, before dropping the girl off at school, they stopped at a blue mailbox. The little girl excitedly dropped both letters into the receptacle and went on with their day, thinking nothing would come out of the secret letter.

At least she had been able to see the one with her list. A couple of dolls, a couple of cars, a science kit, and other things (Y/N) could simply not afford yet. She would work as much overtime as she could at her job and hoped the Christmas bonus at the office would be enough to make rent and have left over for the presents.

A week later – after completely forgetting about the secret letter – (Y/N) was looking at her mail when a bright red envelope caught her attention. The letter was embossed in gold and the penmanship seemed expensive. Nothing she would receive from any of her friends or her family.

It was addressed to her and her daughter, which struck her as odd. Especially since there was no return address on the letter. Taking a knife, she sliced the top of the envelope open, pulling out a thick cardstock invitation from inside and a smaller envelope addressed only to Ellie.

On one side, it simply read:

You are invited to the

Avengers Winter Soiree

December 24th at 7 o’clock

at Avenger’s Tower

Dress Code | Formal

On the other side, in a handwritten font:

 A town car will be around to pick you and your daughter up at 6:30 pm on the 24th

(Y/N) didn’t understand how this invitation got to her, or even why. It wasn’t like she had entered a contest or met any of the members of the team. Receiving that letter was quite a peculiarity. But Ellie seemed to know exactly why they were the recipients of the letter.

“It was Santa, mommy!” Ellie exclaimed after reading the letter that was just for her. “We’re gonna meet the Avengers! Look. Look!”

The girl waved the piece of paper around as she ran to her mother to show her the letter written with the same lettering behind the invitation. Excitement overflowed from the child as she waited for her mother to finish the card that read,

Dear Ellie, I would like to let you know that we got your letter for Santa. It seems some envelopes got mixed up in the mail, and we just so happened to get yours in our mail. But, don’t worry! We had a talk with Santa and he said it was okay for us to help him with it. That’s why you and your mom were invited to the Christmas party in the Avengers Tower. You’re gonna be able to tour places no one is allowed in, join us in the lab, and be able to spend some time with the Avengers. We truly hope you are both able to join us on that day and that you enjoy your Christmas with us! Hope to see you soon, Bruce Banner Merry Christmas!

It was a heartwarming letter and it made her eyes well up with tears. The response was kind and completely out of the blue. And it made the woman all that more curious as to what her daughter had asked Santa for.

They were both excited about the party for the rest of the week, giddy to finally meet the valued heroes of New York. When the night came, (Y/N) and Ellie got clothed in their new dresses. The woman did both of their hair, put a bit of makeup on Ellie upon her request, and did her own.

Waiting for the clock to hit six-thirty was excruciating, their excitement too high to let them sit still. They were minutes away from the most sensational night of their lives, and they still could not believe it. Luck didn’t normally change for people like them.

As soon as the clock shifted into those awaited for three numbers, a knock rang out through the small apartment. The sound made Ellie jump to her feet, her sky-blue dress bouncing as she got up. The girl pulled at her mother’s arm, beckoning for her to move faster.

With a chuckle, (Y/N) gathered her things – keys, phone, purse, and coats. She turned off the lights in the apartment, making sure everything was off and their home would be there when they came back.

“Ready to go, dude?” 

“Yes!” Ellie screamed. “Let’s go!” 

On the other side of the door, they were met with a man in an all-black suit. He had a kind smile as a perfect accessory to his outfit, a pin with the Avengers’ symbol on his lapel.

“Ms. (Y/L/N?” he asked before she confirmed with a nod. “Well, my name is Lucas Miller and I’m here to escort you to the Avengers’ Tower.” 

“I’m Ellie,” the girl chimed in.

“Hello, Ellie,” he smiled. “Are you both ready to go?”

“Yes,” they chorused.

Mother and daughter followed Lucas out of the building and into a black town car. Inside, he told them they could help themselves to any food or drink that was in the back. But they were both too nervous to take anything. It was the nicest car they had ever been in, and they had no idea what to do with themselves.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the heart and soul of New York and park right in front of the tall tower where the world’s mightiest heroes resided. Rare was the time that the duo came into the city, and each time they did they were reminded of why people gravitated so much to the place.

Especially in the wintertime, New York City was a sight to behold. In between the white blanket of snow that always rested on the pavement, the lights and decorations made the whole grandeur of the city seem even bigger. For the time being, they were lucky to call that place home.

Lucas directed them both into the building and to the last floor.

“Well, this is where I’ll leave you,” he announced. “Just stay put and someone will be out to greet you in just a second. Have fun, and Merry Christmas.” 

“Thank you, Lucas,” (Y/N) responded. “Merry Christmas.” 

The man disappeared into the elevator, out of sight until the next day when he came to take them home. After the elevator dinged, the big doors in front of them opened, and a man walked out.

(Y/N) recognized him instantly. She had seen him in the news, rarely, but she had. He had been the same man to respond to her daughter’s letter.

“Hi,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Bruce.” 

“(Y/N),” she smiled, taking his hand in hers. “Nice to meet you.” 

“And you must be Ellie,” Bruce directed himself to the girl. “We’ve all been very excited to finally meet you.”

“Can we see the labs?” the girl burst.

“Dude, manners,” (Y/N) reprimanded her daughter in whispers.

“That’s quite alright,” he chuckled. “I can tell you’re excited. So, why don’t we go on a tour of the place first?” 

The pair followed the man as he directed them through the place. Bedrooms, kitchen, training rooms, med bay, and simply any place that Ellie was simply not interested in – and she made that known many times. The girl wanted to rush through every spot that wasn’t their research lab, so all she did was peak in as Bruce talked and moved onto the next thing.

When they finally made their way to the labs, Ellie’s face lit up brighter than the city that doesn’t sleep. She stared in amazement as Bruce explained what every machine was for, the type of research he did there every day, and the things they had already accomplished with said research.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile at her daughter as she spoke to the man about things she could barely comprehend. The girl went on and on with questions the woman had no idea one could have. She was the most excited her mother had ever seen — going to museums was the second closest. It was the sort of happiness (Y/N) could give her every day.

What did surprise her was Bruce’s attentiveness to Ellie. He was patient with her, listening attentively to everything she said, and making sure she was satisfied with the answers before moving on to the next thing. When his attention wasn’t on Ellie, he would turn to (Y/N) and try to explain in simpler words what they were speaking of, making sure she felt part of the conversation.

Bruce was charming. Quiet, but very charming. There was something about him that made it easy to gravitate toward him. It did help that he was easy on the eyes, (Y/N) thought. But it was the fact that he was being so kind that made him the most attractive.

After being in the labs for over an hour, the three of them moved to where the Christmas party was in full swing. It was a small enough gathering. (Y/N) was able to point out the most known heroes quickly, some of the others were hazy but she knew their faces.

“Hey, Ellie,” Bruce said as he motioned for the kids in attendance to come closer. “Why don’t you play with the kids? These are Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel. Guys, this is Ellie.”

Quickly, the kids ran off to play whatever it was they could, falling into a friendship as only children could. It was heartwarming how easily her daughter fit in, her happiness the only thing the mother cared for.

The man introduced the woman to the group, going around the room and making sure everyone knew who she was. (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel a mixture of intimidation and awe. She was sharing the same space with people that saved lives whilst she wasted away in an office. Yet they all seemed… normal. When they spoke to her she felt she was their peer rather than a random civilian.

After an hour of socializing in a group, Bruce and she were left by themselves as everyone carried on in their own conversations. He ordered a drink for them both as they stood at the bar, chatting with each other.

“So, I’m still wondering,” (Y/N) started as she took a sip of her glass. “Why were we picked to come here? I don’t see anyone else here that had no connection to the avengers. So, why us?”

“Well, what I told Ellie in the letter was true,” he responded staring down at his glass, too nervous to look her in the face. “Her letter did get mixed up with our mail. When I read it, I just felt the need to reach out. Have you not read it?”

“Ellie didn’t want me to read it, actually,” (Y/N) chuckled. “Said it was a secret between her and Santa. I promised her I wouldn’t read it, so I didn’t. And, somehow, now we’re sharing a space with the people that have saved the world a couple of times now. So, it had to be a hell of a letter.”

“Would you like to read it?” Bruce finally looked into her eyes, staring at the glimmer that was in them.

She was an attractive woman, that he could admit. But what intimidated him was her kindness. Ellie had made sure to paint her mother in a beautiful light in her letter. And though, mostly, he invited them to the party to fulfill Ellie’s wish, he also wanted to meet the mother of such a bright girl.

“I-I shouldn’t,” she stammered. “I promised her I wouldn’t. But you could tell me the gist of it. That’s a loophole, right?”

“Mostly she spoke about you. She said she had the most kind, hardworking, loving mother in the world,” he started as a dark red hue washed over her. “Ellie wrote that she knew how hard you tried to give her the best life you could. That being by yourself was hard, but you never put that on her – always trying to appear strong so she doesn’t know when you’re struggling. But she does.

She sees the nights you don’t sleep, the things you renounce for yourself so you can give to her. So, she asked for a Christmas when you didn’t have to stress over that. She said she wanted at least one day where you could feel as special as you made her.

And she said she really wanted to see the labs in the tower one day and learn about everything we – or rather I – did here. You have a very loving and bright kid, (Y/N). You should be proud.”

“Oh, I am,” she said as she wiped away the tears that had formed in her eyes. (Y/N) took Bruce’s hand in hers. “Thank you for this, Bruce, truly. It’s been hard being just the two of us, but somehow we’ve made it work.”

“To be perfectly transparent, her letter made me want to meet you. It was so genuine that I couldn’t help but be curious as to who had raised such a smart young girl.”

“Are you saying you had ulterior motives, Mr. Banner?” she teased. “That you didn’t do this out of the pure kindness of your heart?”

“W-well, y-you know,” he struggled to speak. Though he had started the flirting, he had never thought she would reciprocate.

“I’m only teasing, Bruce. I am actually glad I got to meet you,” she smiled. “If I am being perfectly honest, you are my favorite Avenger.” 

A look was exchanged between them, one that made everyone stare at them. It was no secret that Bruce lacked in the socializing department, but he had been very adamant to invite this seemingly random woman to their Christmas party.  

“Kiss her!” Thor yelled out, faking a cough.

 “Make a move, Banner!” Steve joined in.” 

“If you won’t,” Tony said passing behind them. “I will.” 

“Stop it, guys,” Natasha chimed in. “You know he’s a slow burner.” 

As everyone chuckled, Bruce guided (Y/N) out onto the balcony. As soon as the cold air hit them, he took off his blazer, draping it over her shoulders to cover her from the weather. Their hands brushed for a split second, and they felt it. A spark. Unlike when she had laid a comforting hand on him when he told her about the content of her daughter’s letter, this was purely done randomly.

“So, your favorite avenger?” Bruce smiled, breaking the silence. “I think you mean the Hulk is your favorite.”

“Nope. Dr. Bruce Banner is,” (Y/N) corrected, wearing the same teasing smile he did. “Ellie and I are fans of what happens behind the scenes rather than the fights. It takes a different kind of strength.”

“Well, I’m always happy to meet my fans,” he chuckled. “Although, I think you’re hurting the big guy’s pride.”

“Thankfully, I’m not interested in the big guy. But I am interested in a 5’9,” brown-haired, brown-eyed man with a Ph.D. in Nuclear Physics.”

“You’ve really done your research,” he smiled proudly.

“I told you, me and my daughter are big fans of yours.”

He took a second to respond, staring deeply into her (Y/E/C) eyes, before he asked, “Would you like to be my dare to our New Year’s Party?” he blurted. “Obviously with Ellie, of course.”

“Only if you take me on a date without Ellie.”

“I think I could swing that,” he chuckled.

(Y/N) couldn’t wait any longer and stood on her tiptoes to place a kiss on Bruce’s lips. After getting over being startled, he kissed back. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her closer to him. She could feel his warmth even in this weather and she wanted more.

“What was that for?” he asked pulling away out of breath.

“Well, didn’t have time to get you a Christmas present as a thanks for this invitation,” she grinned. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“As far as I know, this is the best Christmas present I’ve gotten.”

Taglist: @avis15@honeylovemoon@wonieeee@supernaturalwriter@beckiej0073-blog @skyesthebomb @cecehensonn @krazyk99 @klf1999 @ilikepunsbeth @magimtz23 @adaydreamaway08 @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel @thatgirljayy @laylaskywalker @winter-soldier-101 @zheezs14 @clementinesjourney @DyslexicCatterpillar @cevans-winchester @sirenheadenby @sunsetcurvej @sapnapsbandana @esposadomd @this-is-a-bad-idea @nocturnalherb16 @blueshoelaces @then-worship-at-my-altar​ @six-call @nyenye​ @lunaOoO @captainrogers-19 @fandomonetwo @fruitylilfuck @a-slut-for-Loki-Bucky

[serenedash]

HOW did you make your Baldr cosplay. You've inspired me to wanna try and make one too, got any tips on doing it?

aaaaaa I feel so honored I inspired you!!!! ;0; my disclaimer is that I am the farthest thing from a professional lol, but I will show you how I did it! My cosplay philosophy is that I am lazy and want to spend as little money as possible ⭐ I always use clothes I already own, the base outfit I already owned I only needed to get the belts, hoodie and wig

This is long I'm so sorry I just went thru the whole process :')

Here is every part of the finished cosplay:

Boots

Black jeans

Pants chain (mine is just an old one from hot topic)

Blue belts x2 (got these on Amazon, $10 USD each)

Black shirt + vest (or you can do one black button down, in canon Baldr looks like he's wearing a black vest over a white shirt but I felt like my vest was too low it would've looked weird)

Black fingerless gloves

Hoodie (Amazon, $18 USD) + tassel (Joann's Fabrics $10 USD)

Mark of mastery by MadeByFjori on Etsy ($6 USD) I bought it unpainted to save money and just got some metallic gold paint :) its really good quality and shipped fast! I had taped a safety pin on the back of it to attach it to the hoodie (I had tried super gluing it but it mf broke off!!! Tape it is,)

Wig (mine is the Skyelar classic in silver from Arda Wigs!) If you have no experience styling wigs that's fine since Baldr's hair is so choppy that if you fuck it up it works LOL I always style my wigs while wearing them thats just me, I brushed the hair in front of my face and cut the bangs around the bottom of my eyes and went from there. I also cut part of the sides framing my face

If you have dark hair like me I recommend a skin colored wig cap!!! Dark hair spilling out from a white wig will look weird, they sell them kn the Arda Wigs site

Optional: Starlight keyblade from Spirit Halloween ($40 USD) it's solid plastic, lightweight and looks amazing! The only bad thing I've found is the keychain just. Is not durable. Last year it broke off at a convention and I lost it 😔

Optional: face mask by KumalatteCreations on Etsy ($16 USD) I wear it with all my KH cosplays lol I have 2 masks for cosplay from them, really great quality, fit and has a place to insert a filter. I have the OSFA teen/women size because my face is tiny :')

Okay but let's talk real shit: the Hoodie. It's a plain white sweatshirt from Amazon, size up to get that oversized look Baldr has. Also disclaimer: do NOT get a thick hoodie I tried my best to get a light weight one and oh my god. For something that is essentially Just Sleeves I was SWEATING TO DEATH okay anyway materials:

Hoodie base

Gold fabric (I bought 1 yard and had more than enough)

Black buttons x2

Black ribbon

Tassel

Fabric scissors, fabric glue, needle/thread, safety pins

Black and orange markers

If you get a hoodie like mine where the hood strings have metal around the edges, use white paint or white out (I did not have time to buy white paint,) to paint over the metal so its not distracting

Now the How To:

Pull out your hood strings if applicable, paint any metal like I mentioned above

Use fabric glue to add black ribbon around the sleeves, do this in sections not all at once, do the ends of the ribbon around the back of your armpit to hide the ends. On my hoodie there was a hem on the sleeves that I followed so it was easy to make it even on both sides

Crop sweatshirt in half and cut down the middle front but DO NOT go all the way to the top where the hood is, stop about 2 inches away from it otherwise you will be me having to sew that shit back together

Measure where you want the front to fold open, you will probably have to cut more off of the sweatshirt bc if its too big you will be pinning that shit onto the top of your shoulders, basically shorter in the front and longer in the back (I know mine is so messy I didn't measure I just guessed I know wtf @ me-)

Flip hoodie inside-out and add gold fabric to the inside of the hoodie, leave about half an inch room around the edge for hemming, yes the entire inside too, I found that when I moved around I could see the back of the inside and it looks weird when the gold fabric suddenly stops

If you have a sewing machine or want to do this by hand then fold over the edges and hem it on top of the gold (not me tho I was con crunching and glued that shit all the way around,) it cleans up the edges and adds the white border to the part you will pin open

What I WANTED to do was to sew the buttons onto the hoodie and add button holes on what would get pinned but I did not have the time so I sewed the buttons directly onto the front pieces so when I fold it open I used 2 safety pins on each side to hold it up

For the tassel: I colored it with a peachy/light orange sharpie and a black one. I measured how long I wanted it to be and cut the other end off and used fabric glue on the end to stop fraying. I wrap it around the buttons and do a simple loop knot to keep it in place

if you end up doing what I did irt the tassel, don't go in with a regular orange marker bc it came out so dark on the fabric its made of like I just happened to have this peach/skin tone sharpie that came out the right shade on the gold fabric

Finally, pin the mark of mastery in place!

Now you are Baldr :)

[fridakahloblvd]

the one time I trust an old white woman, I lose an eye…

I mean, sURE, there were some red flags. her potions didn’t work, and she talked with innuendo. her smile was kinda creepy, and she seemed a little too eager to talk to me.

I’m just humoring her at this point because she’s just a frail old woman lmao. I’m a sorcerer, I can tell she’s a little loopy.

but she was harmless! I find her and she’s surrounded by two young men who are threatening her. she had no weapons! they’re calling her a hag! 🙄 I get it, she’s a weird old lady, but that’s not a crime.

and I’m not buying this story about their sister! who’s to say she didn’t run off on her own volition? I know the genre we’re in! we meet so many star crossed lovers in act 1! maybe she didn’t like her home life! maybe her brothers are abusive!! Idk!!

so what was i supposed to do?! i met her first, and she was nice to me! she’s Auntie!! i tell them to leave her alone and they point their swords at me! and at this point I’m like lvl 2 or 3, so we easily kill them.

and it’s mostly just because I find her funny, Idk. I find Volo annoying, but I think Auntie’s great so maybe I’m just dumb. I role played the Volo surgery and save scummed back before that because I KNEW he was a bumbling idiot.

The letter the sister left behind doesn’t help either. I don’t know what to think of this situation, I just hope that the sister is safe and sound wherever she is.

Anyway, I go off. Auntie tells me to meet up with her as thanks, I go and fight the goblins and gnolls. the game tells me that I’m not ready to go after the Gith, so I decide that I’m ready to meet back up with Auntie.

I’m following the quest marker, when I step onto the sunlit wetlands. something happens, like a weird blast that changes the area into a stinky bog. ok. whatever. there’s some sheep and they’re highlighted so I grab Wyll to go talk to them.

but they turn into…gnomes? ok. whatever. there’s an illusion going on and these gnomes are trying to pass off as sheep. so I humor them. I “baa” at them. the only other options are to confront or attack them. I don’t feel like starting shit, so I let them be. maybe it’s a kink or they’re being method? I don’t judge.

so I bound up the stairs in this dispelled illusion bog-turned-wetland and there’s Auntie!

…with a young woman. and she’s forcing homegirl to overeat, telling her that she’s eating for two. and again…I’m not stupid. I clock the weird vibes. that’s Marcy what’s her name. the little sister. And Auntie’s being really cruel to her, threatening Marcy to finish her food.

I’ve read Hansel and Gretel, I know a thing or two about child eating witches. so I say something to Auntie, like “hmm. Marcy. ain’t that the name of the little sister of the two guys I killed for you?” like what’s up with that?

and she just tells me to shut it, that she doesn’t like busybodies. Astarion tells me to leave well enough alone, and not worry about strangers. Wyll and Lae’zel stay silent and just stand behind me with their arms crossed. and I suddenly wish I had brought Gale along because I’m romancing him. and he’s a wizard so he’s gotta have some expertise with all this.

but he’s not here. and then Auntie’s telling me that I gotta give up my eye in exchange for getting the worm out. and I’m just letting shit happen at this point because I wanna see where this leads.

so I say ok. but then she says she’s gotta get her long nails for this job. and I’m like, “huh?”

and she transforms into a big gnomish monster. a hag. and I’m just looking at her not knowing what to think. because just because she’s a hag, doesn’t mean she’s evil! right?

(I’d just listened to NADDPOD’s Twilight Santorum four shot and there was a nice hag there so I might’ve been biased. it’s a really funny and surprisingly heartbreaking story. the ending is so good)

Long story short, she pulls my eye out and then freaks out when she sees the worm. apparently it’s been tampered with. duh. we know. but she’s mad at ME, and says the deals off. and kicks me out.

WHAT. like…how rude. she’s like “oh I COULD do it. but I won’t. you’re not getting your eye back, but here’s a lil gift. piss off” and I just had to laugh! because what??

anyway, I’m tempted to save scum and go back and try to kill her I guess.

[mr-phetamine]

Good night catboys, have sweet dreams, may your day be blessed <3 Regular boys... Gn ig 

[babybooday]

Your home

Fluff & violence

Short one shot

You were getting your son ready for trick or treating dressing him up in his favorite custom outfit this year. Blood splattered all over his clothes and a fake knife that you made for him with just cardboard tape and markers gripped in his 6 year old hand ready to go with the neighborhood kids of haddonfield to trick or treat. "Okay Carter" you say while straightening out his jacket, "Now what are the rules"? You raise an eyebrow while looking at him. "Mommmy I know stay with the big kids" he looks at you bouncing on the balls of his feet. Excitement in his eyes. At that moment you can't help but to look over him 'He looks just like him' you grumble in your head. Carter grabbing your hand and dragging you to the door that was being knocked on is what took you out of your day dream. You open the door and see the 12-13 year olds with all the young kids Carter's age. "Give me a kiss" you say. Carter rolls his eyes and let's you kiss his cheek. "Okaaaaay mommy there's not gonna be any candy left can we please goooo" he tries to state his case. You wouldn't think he was only 6. You look at the oldest kid. "Please keep an eye out on him and only a couple hours" you state looking at your son not really wanting him to go out on Halloween night. "Of course Miss (l/n) we'll have him home. She gently takes Carter's hand and ushers the kids to start walking. You sigh watching them leave your front porch. "That kid is gonna be the death of me" you exclaim out loud as you shut the front door. Turning around looking over all the decorations in your house you really didn't know what to do without Carter being there. He always kept you on your toes. You decided you were going to watch his Carter's favorite movie. Halloweentown, as you get your bowl of candy and a bag of chips you sit down and pop on the movie. You sit there watching the movie your mind drifting off thinking about Carter's dad missing him terribly. Michael where are you?

The last time you saw him was 4 years ago when Carter was only two. You were coming back from grocery shopping and there he was standing in your kitchen waiting for you, you would never forget that day. It was the first time he saw Carter. He didn't even spare you a glance that day all he could look at was Carter, like they had some sort of connection that could never be broken. Almost like they could read each other's minds feelings and emotions, and like a gravitational pull he glided over to you and took him out of your arms and just stared at you. He knew this was his son. His eyes went from you back to the two year old squirming in his massive hands. He looked down at him and tilts his head to the side. Carter started giggling while he was doing that and in one swift motion walking past you to the couch he sat down with Carter on his lap and just stared at him the whole time. That was the last time you saw his daddy. The whole time he was here he wouldn't take his eyes off of his son, he was in complete fascination.

The doorbell rang snapping you out of your thoughts. 'Now who could that be' you think walking to the door. "Hey (y/) I'm glad your home do you wanna hang out maybe drink a beer or two"? You look at the gentleman in front of you. Tony. He's quite annoying always harassing you. He has great charm but you know all he wants to do is fuck. You overheard him and his friends talking one day at work that's why you haven't given him the time of day. He's your coworker and unfortunately for you he's also your neighbor. You slightly smile and ponder it for a bit .. hmm maybe just to get your mind off Michael. "Sure come on in I hope you have the beer like you offered I can use a drink" you say while walking back into the house. "Yeah of course I do" he states. "I ran out of candy to pass out and got bored" he finishes looking at you and plops on the couch. "Yeah well you're lucky I still got some" you giggle and sit down next to him. You resume the movie.

-Carters POV

Carter walks home by himself after the big kids ditched him. He finds his way home not being far from the house and sits on the steps and gets into his bag of candy. "Oh my favorite suckers" !! He yells opening up the wrapper and popping it into his mouth "yummy" he says muffled, looking into his bag a big shadow casts over him. Carter looks up and gasps "Daddy" !! He yells looking up at the man in the mask. The shape sticks out his hand for Carter to grab as he does with no hesitation. And he walks silently hand in hand with Carter to the back of your house while Carter rambles on about the night to his dad. As they enter the house through the back door the shape looks down to his kin and points to the stairs and puts his finger over his mask to let him know to go upstairs and be quiet.

-Your pov

You're laughing at something Tony said. It wasn't necessarily funny but you were beaming after those two beers. As he's talking you see movement out the corner of your eye and you look over to see nothing. "What's wrong" ? He says while looking at you. "Nothing it's just getting late my son should be home any time now" you say getting up and shutting off the movie that had the credits rolling. "Ahhhh that's too bad huh" he mumbles eerily. He stands up abruptly, looking at you "Y'know I always had a thing for you ... Still do." He Mumbles on, Staring back at him "I'm with someone Tony, remember" ? Trying to reason with him feeling uneasy. "Oh you mean the dad that nobody has ever seen before not even your closest friends"? He questions stepping toward you with every word and now standing in front of you. You look at him bewildered "Okay I think it's time to go I'll see you at work tomorrow" you hastily exclaim feeling nervous walking around him. Suddenly from behind he tackles you onto the couch you let out a shriek. He then flips you over violently on the couch so you're face to face now. "You know .. you have such a stick up your ass (y/n) but don't worry I'ma rip it out of ya" he says angrily as you're about to scream for help, a knife is plunged through his neck blood immediately squirts out and covers your face with the warm substance. The knife is violently ripped out of his neck and you see a hand on top of his head gripping his hair as the knife plunges back into his neck again and again and again. At this point you can't help the scream that comes out of your mouth it's not that you were scared you were more disgusted at the blood that was in your mouth. Tony is ripped off you and thrown to the floor with the shape getting on top of him and stabbing him repeatedly in the chest, Even though he was long gone. Overkill. You're looking at him from behind and your chest tightens when he stands up. You know who it is.

"Michael.. your home".

Happy Halloween y'all 🫶🏿

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Tattoos

Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader

Summary: In which you and Negan draw tattoos on each other.

Warning: Some strong language.

"Shouldn't we be like...working?" You asked as you smiled at Negan. You'd been at the Sanctuary for a good year now and you'd been intimate with Negan for a few months. And now, you were both sitting in your underwear as you sat together on his bed.

"Hey, I don't work. I run this place." Negan argued, a proud smile on his face.

"That's still work though."

"Well do you wanna work? 'Cause I could send your ass outta here right now if you want?"

"No, it's fine." You grinned, shaking your head. You knew he wouldn't really have kicked you out. Because despite the terms of your relationship being strictly sexual, you felt a connection with Negan, it always felt like he cared about you a little way beyond just sex. It was an unspoken connection of course, but you still felt it between you. "Thing is, what're we gonna do if we're not working?"

He smirked. "I dunno, maybe this?"

He then leaned closer to you, so that you could feel his beard lightly brush over your jaw. And as you ran your hands over his shoulder whilst he left a trail of kisses down your neck, you began to notice all of his tattoos. And it made you think, during these times, you couldn't exactly go out and get a tattoo anymore. "Do you think you'll ever get anymore tattoos?" You suddenly asked, causing Negan to pull back to look at you.

"What?"

"Your tattoos, do you think you'll ever get anymore?"

He sighed. "I don't fucking know."

"It'd have to be DIY or some shit." You said, smiling.

"Damn, it really would."

"Wait, I got it." You said as you leaned over to his nightstand to retrieve an old marker. Negan just looked at you like you were insane.

"You wanna draw on me?"

"What's wrong with that?" You laughed, popping the lid off the marker.

"It's fuckin' cheesy that's what's wrong with it." He growled. "I'm not a damn kid, (y/n)."

You just smirked. "I'll let you do me after."

"And in what context is that? Dirty...or fucking playing with kiddie markers?"

"Both if you want."

"Well let's get to it." He said. It was so easy to persuade Negan with sex. You shifted towards him and pushed him down onto his stomach, proceeding to climb over his back, positioning your legs on either side of his waist.

"You better not draw anything shit." He warned as he turned around to look at you.

You just laughed, pushing him back down. You didn't even know what to draw. So you just ended up staring down at his back for a few moments whilst you decided what to draw. When it finally hit you, you leaned down and pressed the marker to the back of his shoulder.

"The hell are you drawing?" Negan asked after about five minutes.

"You'll see." You grinned as you continued to draw.

Negan continued to struggle beneath you a little whilst you finished the drawing. And then when you were finally finished, you suddenly felt nervous. It would obviously come off eventually but you didn't want him to hate it.

"Done." You announced, carefully climbing off of him.

He got up and walked over to the mirror, examining the drawing on his back. "Damn! You drew Lucille?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I mean, it was the only thing I couldn't completely fuck up so."

"Guess it's my turn now huh?" Negan smirked as he walked back over to the bed and took the marker from you. "Where'd you want it?"

"Wherever you want?"

"Okay." He grinned, gently tracing his fingers over the left side of your chest. You gasped when you felt the cold tip of the marker press against your skin. "You like that baby?"

You didn't say anything as Negan started to drag the marker across your skin. You struggled to keep still as he glided the tip over your chest, clearly taking care in his drawing. It didn't take him long to finish the drawing and when he was done, he leaned back to look at his work, a proud smile on his face.

When you looked down at your chest, you were actually surprised by what Negan had drawn. "A rose?"

"Yup."

"I love it." You smiled as you leaned closer and pressed your lips against his.

He kissed you back and his hands quickly found their way to your hips, squeezing slightly as you deepened the kiss. "Tell me you're mine." He groaned as he pulled you into his lap.

"I'm yours."

TAG LIST

@neganswoman @harrysthiccthighss

[meh-kris]

Ok sorry for posting something after I just finished posting another, Imma go to bed after this

So I have been in yaku x maka brainrot literally like they don't even know eachother but here I am so I made more hcs for them let's go

• Maka Tansei/ Mana Tanahashi

- She is 16 years old, asexual and bi, and pronouns are She/It/Xe

- She sculpts alot mostly but makes weird creatures like half camel half octopus or something

- listens to Jack Stauber 100% Canon fight me

- Xe owns 52828399 markers and will brag about it if given opportunity

- Shes energetic and caring, had matching accessories in middle school with Efude i tell you

• Yaku Zaishi

- He is around 16 ½ years old, pansexual and pronouns are He/They

- He loves to make imaginary episodes of his favorite shows and animes (not projecting totally haha)

- They listen to Lemon Demon but also IU at the same time because yes

- Makes those DIY car race thingies with stuff in his house and experiments with EXPLOSIONNSNSNS

- He also wears his headset out of school because he thinks it looks nice

- He is very kind with his friends but can be VERY talkative when he says about his favorite things like say you like Miyuki and he'll be like 'HOLY GOOD GRIEF THE SAVIOR OF BOREDOM AND MAGICAL HIGHSCHOOL GIRL MIYUKI???'

♡ Headcanons for both!! (bonus)

• Maka usually talks alot to Yaku and he does the same with her since they are pretty much talkative so they get along

• Yaku likes to give strange gifts to Maka to appeal her and Maka in return plays with his hair alot

•They've both felt insecure alot but always brighten eachother on life and shit

• If they went on a date, it'd be some bizarre museum if Maka's choice and an anime convention or maybe a manga store if up to Yaku

• Yaku is a casual dude with his hoodie but he wears a Miyuki T-shirt underneath and Maka would wear something like this :

Also I imagine this scenario where they were just talking but then Maka stops and Yakus like huh and then she reaches her hand to his face, Yaku gets really flustered but she was just touching his headset for fun lmao I wanna recreate that in pose mode.

Okay I've talked too much, I've been writing this for half an hour, good night.

[theworldofotps]

The Graveyard Man

13 Nights to Halloween (Night Ten)

Pairing: Undertaker x Y/n Word Count: 2,344 Request: (I cut it down so it didn’t give away too much.) Y/n enjoys nightly strolls, during one of these walks she witnesses how the local gravedigger (*wiggles eyebrows*) buries someone alive. Even though she's in horror, she starts to investigate... this nosy thing. He quickly notices and that's when the freaky mind games begin. Everything feels off, but she won't let it be. 

I have never written Taker before so I hope I did a decent job, thanks for participating @ava-valerie I really hope that you enjoy!  Warning: Spooky, anxious?, attempted break in?, mind games, mentions blood, physical altercation. _________

Tag list: @hungmanhorsecarriage @writtingrose @omg-im-such-a-masochist @sjwrites22 @sassymox @new-zealand-chic @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex @biforrollynch @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29 @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred91 @xbreezymeadowsx @rebellious-desires @thiccc-rider-mcintyre @melblacc @letsgivethisonemoreshot @alination @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497 @thatpanpal @thatnerdwriter​

If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. _________

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Yes Star, I’m already halfway finished with my walk. You know how much I enjoy these late-night strolls, I just need to go a bit further than I’ll be back.”

“Okay, if I’m not awake when you get back, knock on my door to let me know you made it safely.”

“I will.”

Y/n finished the call with her best friend then continued on her walk, she knew that Star was worried about her. And she hated when y/n went on these late strolls by herself, but y/n enjoyed them. The time alone to think about current things going on in her life and just random scenarios. It was peaceful, y/n always made sure she had stuff in case anything happened but so far none of her walks had been sour.

She’d been doing this for years, it was one of her favorite outdoor activities.

Looking around she inhaled the crisp fresh air and crossed the street. October had finally come round and y/n couldn’t be more thrilled. She loved the cool weather, the colorful leaves, all the autumn things to do, and Halloween.

That’s why she was walking a bit later then usual, to enjoy the coolness longer, well that and she wanted to go into the cemetery. Normally y/n didn’t walk there at night but she just felt this urge to change up her normal route tonight and that’s what was going to happen.

So when she got to the corner she would normally turn around on, Y/n continued on the last few meters to the cemetery. Glancing past the entrance she looked around, nobody seemed to be there. Given the fact it was nearly midnight, she didn’t expect anyone to be here. Shining her light on the road in front of her Y/n begins walking spotting the graves of some old neighbors and people she knew as a kid.

Y/n remains silent. It was really creepy walking through the cemetery at night but not too bad. Making her way farther in y/n stops covering her light when she hears something. Remaining still she glances around trying to see in the dark. The moon was covered by clouds so she couldn’t see much. Turning the brightness down on her flashlight she shines it at the ground again and continues walking. Looking all around her, turning onto a small path she stops hearing the noise again. Shutting her flashlight off she looks around.

Now she was starting to get a bit worried, so she very carefully started backtracking. When a green light suddenly appeared a few rows back, y/n stopped. She knew that it was best to just go, to pretend like she didn’t see anything and leave. But her curiosity which was sometimes like now more curse then a blessing. Drove her to go closer to the light, so she did. Cautiously stepping between graves she gets closer to the light and stops behind a large grave marker.

Peeking around it she blinks allowing her eyes to adjust to light. A man was standing by a grave, pushing dirt away from an open hole. Relief went through her, it was only the gravedigger probably getting ready for a funeral tomorrow. Opening her mouth to speak, y/n stops when the large man walks over to a wheelbarrow and grabs something. In horror y/n watches as he pulls a body out walking over and dumping it in the hole. A groan could be heard from the ground as the gravedigger jumped in closing what she assumed was a casket. Then climbing out he starts placing dirt back in the hole.

Y/n covers her mouth to hold back a gasp, stepping back she stumbles slightly. Stopping dead in her tracks ducking down when the gravedigger looks around. When he’s satisfied there’s nothing there he continues. Y/n keeps low and makes her way back to the main row staying down. Once she’s out of sight y/n begins running from the cemetery. Keeping silent in hopes the gravedigger wouldn’t see or hear her. Her flashlight bobs along as she runs, y/n keeps going until she reaches her front door. Unlocking it she opens the door and steps inside relocking it.

Taking a moment to catch her breath y/n makes her way up to Star’s room, letting her friend know she made it back. Then going into her room and double making sure everything was locked. Y/n gets ready for bed and hides under the covers. She couldn’t believe that the gravedigger buried someone alive. She needed to report him, but she knew there needed to be solid evidence. She’d have to go back and record it so she could take it to the head of that cemetery. ~ The next few nights y/n would take her strolls following the same path to the cemetery and try getting video or camera proof of what was happening. But every time she’d look back over her camera roll. The pictures were blurry and the video quality was extremely poor. It was a bit frustrating if she was honest. Sure she could just leave it alone but this man was continuing to throw people in graves and bury them.

More than once Y/n had thought he was going to catch her, he’d turn and glance around looking out past the tombstones. His large hat brim pulled down covering his eyes, he was always wearing a trench coat. So she couldn’t describe much to any authority figure about the mysterious man, even if she finally got good proof. And tonight was going to be that night.

“Alright, Star. I'm heading out again. I may be a little later than normal but I promise to send you a text when I’m nearly home.”

“Okay, remember I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon for a few days to visit some friends outside of town. Are you going to be safe going out at night knowing there’s nobody here?”

Y/n tightens the laces on her sneakers before looking over at her friend.

“Yeah, it’s no different than when you’re here and I promise if something happens I will call one of the neighbors or something.”

“Good, I don’t mean to be a worrywart Y/N/N but I really worry about you.”

Walking over to Star, Y/n wraps her arms tightly around her friend and presses a light kiss to her temple.

“I understand why you worry so much, I get the same way about you when you leave town. So we’re even.”

Smiling, the two exchange another hug before parting ways, Stars to the kitchen and Y/n heads outside again. Following the same path, she’d been following the last almost week Y/n cleans the camera on her phone. She wanted to be sure that she got proof tonight.

Making it to the large entrance of the cemetery she sneaks out making her way towards the center where the gravedigger had left his shovel and wheelbarrow. Instead of stopping at her usual hiding spot. Y/n continues another row up and behind another large tombstone. She had a better view and hopefully could finally get what she needed.

Hearing a door close Y/n ducks down laying flat on the ground, remaining silent as she hears the soft sound of feet moving across the grass. Holding her breath, Y/n waits until she hears a soft grunt followed by the shovel hitting the ground. Slowly she works her way to the left and peeks around the tombstone. Once again the green lantern was set down, casting an eerie glow around the section of cemetery they were in. The gravedigger goes about digging another grave. Y/n moves her phone up and presses start on the video.

“This time you won’t be getting out of this grave.”

That was the first time she ever heard him speak. His voice was deep and raspy, she hadn’t expected it so the gasp that left her before she could stop it reached his ears. The gravedigger stops. Looking around, grabbing his lantern he holds it out in front of him scanning the cemetery. Y/n just barely managed to roll out of view before the green light shines in her direction. Swallowing down the panic and fear welling up inside her, y/n lays there waiting until he finally continues digging.

‘Screw this.’

Y/n thinks to herself as she crawls away hearing a grunt behind her she doesn’t stop. Only moving faster as she crawls out of the cemetery and once more runs back to her house. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being followed. Heading up to her room, she scrubs her body clean where there were grass marks then lays in bed. Staring at the ceiling.

“There is a murderer in town and nobody but myself knows about it. I have no way to prove it unless..I’m such an idiot!”

Y/n slaps her forehead, she literally didn’t think to call the police before going into the cemetery so they could catch the guy in the act. With that thought in mind, Y/n curls up under the blankets and soon falls asleep. ~ That’s strange. Shifting in bed Y/n feels a warm wet feeling against her side sitting up in bed she pulls the blankets off. Eyes widening when she sees a puddle of blood. Leaping out of bed she runs into the bathroom yanking down her pajamas and stopping. Nothing.

“Where the hell did all the blood come from if it’s not from me?”

Stripping her bed and pajamas y/n takes everything down to the washroom and begins the process of getting the blood out. Once finished she makes her way back upstairs to the shower and scrubs the blood from her skin. After getting dressed for the day, Y/n goes downstairs to the kitchen for some breakfast. She’s immediately hit with the smell of rotting fruit.

“What the fuck?”

They just bought that fruit the day before yesterday, how the hell was it already rotted? Covering her nose Y/n throws the fruit out onto the compost and washes her hands. Looks like she’d have to find something else.

All day Y/n has ‘wtf’ moments when different things seem to go wrong. Her keys weren’t where she usually has them. The car was leaking oil with no apparent cause and she had an overwhelming sense of fear. She couldn’t place what was going on but Y/n knew it all was off. Maybe it was best she ignored the cemetery tonight and try tomorrow, she wanted a clear head when she spoke with the police. It was probably best she didn’t go on a walk at all tonight.

Once y/n is settled on the couch after a long day she puts on her favorite movie and cuddles under a blanket with a bowl of popcorn. She must have dozed off because the next thing Y/n knows she hears a loud crashing sound out on the patio. Standing up she tip toes through the dark house going to the backdoor. Taking a deep breath she moves the curtain just a little and peers out into the yard.

Her breath nearly stops when she sees a large man standing at the end of the patio. The man from the graveyard! She watches as he wrestles with something, and as the moon shines just enough she realizes it’s a woman. Grabbing her flashlight and a bat they kept in the closet, y/n runs outside.

“Freeze! Let her go now.”

The large man turns to stare at Y/n as the woman in his hands stops moving, both looking at her.

“Go back in the house you have no idea what the hell she is!”

“I know that you’re a monster attacking a poor woman!”

The gravedigger grunts as the woman begins twisting and groaning her teeth snapping together towards his face. (Warning graphic below)

“Put that bat to use and hit her with it.”

“Are you crazy?”

Y/n flicks her flashlight over on them and covers her mouth to stifle a scream seeing the woman’s eyes glowing a pale grey. Her mouth leaking some weird fluid, Y/n could see pieces of flesh falling to the ground. The gravedigger grabs the bat, dropping the woman and smacking her in the back with the bat. Grabbing a black bag he quickly ties her up and tosses her into a wheelbarrow.

“Why does she look like that?”

“She’s dead...The undead and I need to get back to the cemetery.”

Setting his bag over his shoulder he wheels around the house and down the sidewalk to the street. Y/n quickly follows after him and walks by him, well more like jogs. The man had long legs and his strides were fast-paced.

“So all those people you’ve been burying?”

“All undead, there’s something going on in this town that the rest of you need not worry about. Just know that you’re safe now but always be careful when you go out at night. So go back inside, lock your windows and doors.”

“What’s your name?”

“You can just call me Taker, now get inside and Y/n. You really need to stop creeping around the cemetery at night, you never know what kinda trouble is out there.”

He chuckles as Y/n stops watching him disappear into a sudden cloud of fog. When she blinked he was gone. Swallowing she glances around then runs back inside making sure to lock everything up as Taker told her to. So he wasn’t such a bad person like she thought, he was keeping the town safe. From the undead, that was one she still needed to wrap her head around. As she got into bed she slowly started to feel sleep take over but then quickly sat up.

“How did he know my name?”

[drabbles-mc]

Like Father, Like Son

Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x F!Reader

Request by Anon: Could you do a fic with someone (idc they could all be my baby daddy lol) being a boy dad. Like helping him fix his bike, temporary tattoos to look like their mini me and just being lovey and protective over their mom like their dad

Warnings: talk of pregnancy, a whole lot of family fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I would die for soft Creeper Vargas. Me and @garbinge had a mini idea-bouncing sesh about him as a family man and I have a feeling this will not be my last fic about Dad!Creeper lmao. Hope you enjoy!

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You heard the familiar rumble of his bike as he pulled into the driveway. Smiling to yourself, you slowly made your way towards the front door. You opened it as he walked up the steps to greet you with a hand on your ever-growing stomach and a light kiss on your lips.

“How are you two ladies today?” he asked as he gently ran his hand over your stomach.

You chuckled, “We’re alright. The rest of your pack, however, is up to no good.”

He smiled, “Oh so they’re my pack now?”

Trying to contain your smirk, you nodded, “Go out back and see what they’ve been up to. You’ll definitely agree that they’re yours today.”

You listened to the sound of his heavy, booted footsteps as he made his way through the house to get to the back yard. You followed a little ways behind, and sure enough moments after you heard the deck door slide shut, you heard the sound of your husband’s laughter filling the air. By the time you made it to the door, Creeper was already crouched down, taking stock of the entire scene in front of him.

“What’s goin’ on out here, lil man?” he asked as he sat down next to his son, who was very seriously looking over all the markers that were spread out in front of him.

“We’re gonna look like you!” your son had the proudest smile on his face as he waved his marker around in the air.

You watched as Creeper took in the sight of his three kids all actually sitting and getting along together. Your son was outnumbered by his little twin sisters, and the three of them bickered constantly the way that young siblings do. But the rare moments when they all really liked each other and got along made the rest of it worth it. You subconsciously rested your hand on your stomach—truthfully neither of you knew the sex of the baby, but Creeper was certain it was another girl. He was practically willing it into existence. You were both going to be thrilled no matter what, but as you stood back and watched Creeper picking out what color to use for his son’s next ‘tattoo’ you couldn’t help but to hope that you’d have another boy running around soon to even out the ranks.

“Who came up with this idea, huh?” Creeper asked the three of them as he carefully started doodling on the back of his son’s hand with a magic marker. The twins simultaneously pointed to their brother and Creeper couldn’t help but to laugh, “I should’ve known.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard them so quiet,” you spoke up as you watched the four of them, “I thought I might’ve lost them for a minute—that’s how quiet the house was.”

“You three? Quiet?” he looked back and forth amongst them, “I don’t believe it,” he put the cap back on the marker and motioned for the girls to come closer, “Lemme see your ink, lil mamas.”

Creeper smiled as he looked at all the designs and doodles that covered his children’s arms. All things being considered, it wasn’t the messiest thing the little crew had ever gotten into. He loved everything about being a father, but moments like this really made his entire heart swell. All three of them had their arms covered in stars and smiley faces, and his son had a very scribbly skull drawn on his knee.

“I like this one,” Creeper tapped his son’s knee lightly, “You do that?” He nodded proudly and Creeper pulled him against his side, “You’ll have to give me one later.”

“Girls?” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, “Now that Dad’s home we can take the dogs out. Still wanna go?”

They leapt up, cheering happily with all the energy that six-year-olds usually had, as they ran inside to grab their socks and shoes. You laughed as you listened to the clamor they caused. Looking back at Creeper and your son, you couldn’t help but to smile.

“You’re more than welcome to come with us,” you rested your arms on top of your new baby bump, “But I figured you two might like some boy time.”

Creeper looked up at you from the floor, “You shouldn’t be doing all that, baby. You should be resting. I’ll take are of it.”

You shook your head, “Walking is good for me, Neron. And for the baby. We’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure?”

You nodded as you walked over and placed a kiss on the top of your husband’s head, “Positive. You two have fun. I love you both.”

“Love you,” they both called after you in unison as you walked away. You smiled to yourself as you made your way through the house to catch up with your daughters, who were already being half-dragged out of the house by the dogs they managed to clip the leashes onto.

“Well,” Creeper slowly rose to his feet, holding his hands out to help his son to do the same, “Now that your tattoos are all dry, wanna help me with the bike?”

“Really?” his eyes lit up as he set his hands into his father’s.

“Yea,” he pulled him up and instantly tucked the boy against his side, “C’mon, it’s been a while since we worked on it.”

The two of them walked through the house and made their way out the front door so thye could get to the garage. Creeper stood back, allowing his son to lift and push the garage door up as high as he could before his dad had to take over and open it the rest of the way. Running in, the boy went right over to the light switch and flipped it on. Creeper chuckled as he walked in, making his way over to the large sheet that was draped over his latest project that he’d been tackling little by little with his son.

With a flourish, he removed the fabric, and his son’s eyes instantly lit up. Creeper had always been a bit of a fixer—he liked having projects to plug away at to help him unwind. The bike had been brought to the scrapyard by someone who, “Clearly doesn’t know a fucking thing about motorcycles,” according to Creeper, because there was plenty of potential left for it. The bones were still decent, it just needed a lot of TLC. Creeper called dibs on it and no one was going to fight him on it. So bringing it back to life had been his latest task.

For as much as he enjoyed his solitude a lot of the time, having your son as a built-in assistant to help him with the bike had been a great experience for the both of them. For as young as he was, he was very interested in everything that his father could tell him about the bike, the parts, and the tools used to fix it all. The two of them made a good pair, your son sifting through the tool chest to get whatever his father needed, and Creeper showing him little tricks of taking things apart and putting them back together.

“Y’know,” he cranked the wrench as his son sat next to him, watching intently, “when we’re all done with this, you can choose the color for it if you want.”

His eyes were bright, eyebrows raised in excitement, “Yea?”

He nodded, “Yea. You’ve been doing a lot of work on this—it’s only fair,” he paused for a moment, “It can be your bike, when you’re old enough.”

“Mine?” his eyes were filled with wonder as he thought about what his father had just told him.

“Yea. Just,” he chuckled, “Don’t tell your mom that I said that. It’ll be our little surprise for her.”

“Don’t tell me what?” you were leaning against the garage doorframe, a soft smile on your face as you watched the two of them working together.

Creeper turned around quickly, clearly searching your face to see how much of the conversation you’d heard, “Nothin’, mama. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You chuckled, not convinced, “Mhm. I’m sure,” you absentmindedly ran your hands over your stomach, “Just came out to let you boys know to start wrapping up—dinner’ll be ready in ten.”

You made your way back to the house to finish getting dinner ready and you could hear your two favorite men in the world behind you as they started to clean up their project for the night. It brought a smile to your face and put a warmth in your chest as you walked inside and listened to the loud laughter of your two daughters getting into some kind of trouble in their bedroom.

When they finally made their way inside, you sent them both to wash their hands and get ready for dinner. You could see the disappointment on your son’s face at the thought of washing all of his tattoos away and you had to chuckled quietly to yourself.

“I love you,” Creeper said quietly with a soft smile as he pressed a kiss to your cheek in passing while he made his way to the kitchen sink to wash up.

“I love you too,” you smiled over at him for a second before getting plates and cups down out of the cupboard above your head.

You were getting ready to lift the stack of plates when your son came sliding into the kitchen, skidding skillfully on the hardwood floor in his socks. He lifted the plates instead, beating you to it. You tried to take them back from him, not wanting him to drop the entire stack of plates and have them break, but he insisted.

“I got it, Mom,” he reassured with a nod.

“Honey, I don’t want you to—”

“Dad said you need to rest,” he turned and started walking towards the dining room table, “I got it.”

You chuckled as you glanced over at your husband, “Between the two of you, I’m never going to get to do anything anymore, am I?”

He laughed and kissed you lightly on the lips, “Maybe not. But it’s because we love you.”

You gently cupped his cheek and ran your thumb along his cheekbone, “I love you too.”

[spicycreativity]

Good Omens but Make It Moceit (unfinished)

I said I would do it and I tried very, very hard but it's not looking like I'm going to be able to finish because ✨mental health reasons✨

Here's what I have so far (about 8k words)

EDEN

It is a little-known theological fact that the invention of the hypothetical coincided nearly perfectly with the invention of the thunderstorm, the latter being a rather effable invention of God, all things considered, and the former springing forth from the troubled mind of Phaedaël, the angel of the Eastern gate. The first drops of rain pattered to the ground and he curved one wing upward to protect his head. Addressing his companion, he said, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I should be talking to you."

"Oh, and what a shame," cooed the serpent, who hadn't yet chosen a name, "and here I was so hoping you'd wring the details out of me."

"Oh," said the angel, considering this. He shifted uncomfortably, and made a face like he'd just been forced to swallow something bitter. "Well… What did you say to her?"

"Don't patronize me," said the serpent. He paused. "I don't suppose you could enlighten me, angel, on what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil?"

"They broke the rules," said the angel firmly.

"I don't suppose it matters that the rule was arbitrary?" The angel drew in a breath to reply, but the serpent cut him off, looking him up and down suddenly as though seeing him for the first time. A sly smile tugged at his lips. "Lose something?"

"No!" said the angel, far too quickly.

"Oh, come on. Lying doesn't become an angel."

"It's not a lie!" the angel insisted.

"Well, then. Please do tell me what happened to that flaming sword of yours."

The rain began to fall in earnest. A thunderclap sounded overhead. The angel said, "What if you had an opportunity to help someone--"

"What if?" repeated the serpent incredulously.

"What if," persisted the angel, "someone could benefit from something you were supposed to have, but weren't really using?"

The serpent began to laugh. "Don't tell me you gave it--" he gestured into the distance-- "to them?" A few more hysterical cackles escaped his chest, but he swallowed the rest down at the anguished look on the angel's face. "Oh, relax. If you did it, it can't have been bad, can it? Angels don't do bad."

"And demons don't do good?" the angel looked at the serpent with uncertainty.

"Oh, yes," purred the serpent, "we're wicked to the core."

The angel went silent, considering this.

The thunder roared, the rain came down harder, the serpent remained, and the angel very gently lifted his other wing to keep his companion dry.

Who, after all, prayed for the Devil?

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

God (God)

Logan (Patton's overseer)

Satan (A Fallen Angel; The Fallen Angel, one might say)

Remus (Janus' overseer)

Janus (An angel who did not so much fall as back away muttering "I'm really going to do it this time; no one try to stop me")

Roman (a lover)

Virgil (an Antichrist)

Dog (hellhound, hellraiser, and sleeping partner)

21 YEARS AGO

In the Valendale Regional Military Cemetery lurked a demon.

Well, he lurked as best as he was able, given that the ambiance was all off for lurking. He had fudged the timing a little, being unaccustomed to the nature of the passage of time on Earth, and had accidentally arrived just in time to witness a beautiful sunrise over Florida's eastern coast. Half the sky was a magnificent golden ocean with waves of orange and pink. The military cemetery had also been a mistake, though this one bothered him less. While he had been hoping for something a little more ancient and decrepit, he soon began to console himself by playing hopscotch on the clean, flat grave markers, delighting in the muddy bootprints he left behind him.

Besides, he liked the way 'military cemetery' rolled off the tongue.

When he inevitably got bored of desecrating graves, he threw himself down in the grass and began to look for worms and bugs with which he might decorate his uniform.

This was Remus, a Duke of Hell.

He found a worm and began to speak to it, watching it writhe around in his palm. "I'm so bored."

He spent a good few seconds coming up with a voice to use to represent the worm, then asked himself in a high-pitched squeak, "Why's that, your

Grace?"

Remus cupped the worm in his hands and rolled over, nearly kicking the basket he'd brought with him. This bothered him less than it rightfully should have, considering what was inside. He only gave a blithe "Oops!" and returned his attention to the worm. "That little subordinate of mine is making me wait!"

The worm said, "You should punish him!"

"Good idea!" Remus exclaimed, stroking the worm with his fingertip. "What do you think, should I spank him? Make him kiss my boots? Or--" He cut himself off, having just caught sight of flashing red and blue lights in the near distance. Sirens had been echoing on and off throughout the night, but they were very near now. "There's my bitch!" he said with undisguised affection. He put the worm in his pocket and stood up.

The Interstate Highway System was ostensibly developed under the command of United States President Dwight D Eisenhower in order to facilitate the movement of personal use vehicles, public transportation vehicles, and self-propelled field artillery across the country. This project, as anyone who has ever attempted to traverse the Interstate Highway System can tell you, was a catastrophic failure. The criss-crossing network of freeways, highways, turnpikes, and byways is frequently backed up with bumper-to-bumper traffic.

What most hapless travelers of the Interstate Highway System do not know is that the cloverleaf interchange, one of the most commonly-used interchanges in city planning, is also the exact same shape as the sigil det in the written language of the Church of the Black Clock. Written correctly, it means "black fire upon my enemies, devour their souls!" (Note: Written incorrectly, it reads "kneel, gay men.") Every day, commuters slow traffic via their own ill-wishes on fellow drivers, granted life by the sigil. (It is a known fact that every driver on the freeway considers every other driver on the freeway an enemy).

It was one of Janus' most diabolical achievements. He was quite proud of himself, not only in the end result but in his methods. While a lesser demon might have had to go to the trouble of hands-on work: hacking computers, making bribes, and, Satan-forbid, possibly even sneaking out at night to move marker pegs by hand, all Janus had had to do was talk. He was quite good at getting people to do his bidding once he got his foot in the door.

Something Janus had inexplicably failed to account for was the fact that he, too, would occasionally need to use the freeway system. Such was the curse of Janus' great evil deeds: more often than not, they slalomed between his legs like a wily terrier and bit him squarely on the ass.

The irony snuck up on him sometimes.

Janus had dark hair and high cheekbones. His eyes and tongue were really only unusual if you looked at them twice, and he had a tendency to hiss when he forgot himself. He looked far too young, far too handsome, and far too svelte for the 1957 Cadillac Deville he was driving, bearing no resemblance at all to the sort of wealthy, elderly man who deals in classic cars.

He checked his watch, which also seemed too old for him, and glanced at the rearview mirror. Normally he enjoyed the minor thrill of having cops on his tail, but his exit was coming up and he did have someplace to be.

What he did next lacked imagination, but it got the job done: With one complicated hand gesture, he turned both officers into pigs and gently glided their cars to the shoulder. Then he turned on his blinker and took his exit.

Remus watched the police lights disappear  with impassivity, bouncing on his toes. When Janus finally emerged through the wrought iron gates, having bent reality to get past them, he raised his arms and shouted, "Hail Satan!"

Janus acknowledged this with two lifted fingers. "So sorry I'm late," he said, bringing his hand smoothly upward to tip his hat, "it's just that I don't value your time in comparison to mine." The sarcastic inflection was so light the words could very well be sincere. But of course Janus always meant every word of what he'd said. (Now that's

sarcastic inflection)!

Remus gave a feral grin. Janus was his favorite subordinate. "Wanna see my worm?"

Millennia of acquaintanceship had freed Janus from the notion that he needed to be polite to Remus. The demon was as twisted as they came and nearly immune to flattery. "As much as I'd love to, shouldn't we get this over with?"

"Yeah, yeah." Remus looked around. "Hm, now where did I put the basket?"

The basket was currently sitting atop the headstone for a General T. Pratchett. Janus spied it first and indicated it to Remus with a flicker of his yellow irises, careful not to let a trace of his hesitancy show on his face. He didn't even let himself hesitate when Remus, who had hopscotched over to the basket and then back over to Janus, thrust it out to him.

"So this is really it," Janus murmured, wrapping both gloved hands around the handle of the basket. Then he began to work. "What a high honor."

"So they say," Remus said.

"Remus, be honest with me." Brief pause, just enough for Remus to wonder at the weight in Janus' voice. "Did you pull some strings to ensure I was the one who got this task? Do I owe you a favor?"

"Are you about to thank me?" Remus asked, tilting his head. Addressing the worm in his breast pocket, he said, "Listen up, this should be good."

"So you did?"

"Of course not."

Here it was. After a few seconds of rallying, his ace: "So why me?"

"You've been in the field the longest." Remus' grin widened to an impossible degree and he grabbed Janus by the lapels of his immaculate suit jacket, coming nose to nose. "Some of us think you're getting soft."

Janus smiled back, the unblinking predator's grin of a snake about to strike, and hefted the basket. "We'll see about that." And he extricated his lapels from Remus' grasp and turned to leave.

"You didn't say hi to my worm!" Remus called after him. Janus did not reply. Remus fished the worm out of his pocket. "How rude."

"The nerve of some demons," agreed the worm.

The Cadillac's speedometer hit 110. Janus fumbled for the volume knob with a shaking hand. The radio was permanently set to 98.5 The Jukebox, which only ever seemed to play Queen.

"Shit," Janus muttered as majestic panned harmonies began to emanate from his speakers. "Shit-shit-shit. Why now? Why me?"

BECAUSE, came the harmonic vocals, YOU'VE EARNED IT.

Janus bit down on his tongue to keep from swearing. Communication via electronics had been another one of his ideas, hoping he'd be issued a BlackBerry or a Nokia. But no. Instead, upper management just cut into whatever he was listening to at the time and twisted it. "Thank you very much, my lord," he said, working very very hard to instill his voice with the proper amount of unctuous ooze.

THIS IS IMPORTANT, JANUS.

"Yes, my lord."

THIS IS THE BIG ONE.

"Yes, my lord."

AND YOU UNDERSTAND, JANUS, THAT IF THIS GOES WRONG, EVERYONE INVOLVED WILL BE PUNISHED. EVEN YOU. ESPECIALLY YOU.

"I understand."

GOOD. YOUR INSTRUCTIONS.

And suddenly, he just knew. A new Queen song began to play on 98.5 The Jukebox, and Janus hissed and slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. "What was the point of all that, then?" he demanded of Freddie Mercury.

Freddie Mercury replied, "Don't stop me now! 'Cause I'm havin' a good time!"

Janus rolled his eyes and changed lanes without signaling. He had been instructed to head straight to a hospital on the edge of town. It was technically in an unincorporated community called Misty, but for all intents and purposes, Misty was Valendale. If he kept up this pace (the needle of the speedometer now closer to 130), he could be there in five minutes. Joy.

It had all been going so well, too. He'd really hit his stride in the 21st century, and now here was Hell pulling the rug out from under his shiny Armani brogues. Armageddon. What a nightmare.

In the Publix baking aisle, two angels stood side by side. One of them was Phaedaël, who had lately adopted the name 'Patton,' feeling it suited his corporation.

The other had been christened 'Loirea' once upon a time. As Heaven began to

modernize, Loirea had been the first among the angels to adapt to the changes being made. He had even taken on the name 'Logan' as a show of good faith. 

Both of the angels were human-shaped, having discovered early on that it's much easier to get things done when you have limbs as opposed to flaming wheels of eyes and animal heads poking out at odd angles.

Both wore glasses. Patton's glasses were round, wire-rimmed things, of the sort usually found on kindly old librarians and stern but fair headmasters of all-boy's boarding schools. Logan's glasses were made of shiny black plastic and looked like they could draw blood if strategically applied to a sufficiently tender area.

Patton was, at the moment, holding a bag a semolina flour under one arm and awkwardly attempting to explain himself. "It's called 'cooking.' It's actually really clever, you take ingredients and combine them--"

"Why?" Logan interrupted 

"Oh, uh, well," Patton hesitated, shamefaced, "it makes food."

"Eating," Logan said in such a forceful tone of dismissal that three boxes of brownie mix turned to ash behind him. "I don't understand why you waste your time."

"It helps me blend in," Patton said with a sheepish smile. Everything from his shoes to his shirt was a shade of white or blue; he'd never been comfortable dealing in gray areas.

"I see." Logan adjusted his tie. "Well, I'll let you get back to it in a moment. I just came to pass on a message: Our intel has given us reason to believe that Armageddon is underway."

"Oh," said Patton vaguely, staring at a bag of something labeled 'pasta flour.' "Oh!"

"We'd like for you to keep an eye on Janus. He's a demon; he's on a similar mission to yours."

"I, uh," Patton swallowed hard, staring right through the pasta flour, "I've heard of him."

"Good." Logan put his hand on Patton's shoulder and looked him dead in the eye. "Patton."

"Y-yes?"

"When I say 'keep an eye on' I mean I want you to watch him. It's a figure of speech."

Patton nodded, forcing his mouth to curve into a pale imitation of a smile. Logan nodded back and vanished.

"Well," Patton said to the pasta flour, "fiddlesticks."

Brother Emile Analogical had been raised a Satanist. There is no such thing as an orthodox Satanist, but if there was, that would be the kind of Satanism that Brother Emile's parents had practiced. He had graduated with unspectacular grades, joined the Paralleling Order of Saint Botild, and promptly moved from Nebraska to Florida: more specifically, to the unincorporated community of Misty in the greater Valendale area. The climate had taken some getting used to, not to mention the long, black robes he had to wear, but he had survived the transition and found himself a good fit for the Paralleling Order.

Note: Saint Botild Comminalitus of Malmö was reputed to have been martyred in the middle of the fifth century, for reasons unclear. It is said that the Lord granted him the power to draw parallels and connections between topics; his last words are reported to have been "This reminds me of that one story about Loptr, when he--" Then his assailants lit the pyre.

At the moment, Brother Emile was thinking about the tall, dark figure stalking down the hallways at him holding a basket, likening him to a Scooby-Doo villain, the way the shadows seemed to stick to him.

"Jinkies!" said Brother Emile once the figure was in earshot.

Janus raised an eyebrow at him over the tops of his sunglasses. "Hello."

Unphased by the cold greeting, Brother Emile pointed to the basket. "Is that the fairly odd baby?" he asked in a high-pitched coo that indicated he already suspected the answer.

"No," said Janus, rolling his eyes. "It's a basket of kittens I saved from drowning. Aren't you wondering why I'm all wet?"

"You're," Brother Emile started, and Janus braced himself, fearing the last frayed thread of his patience might snap if the sentence ended with the word 'dry,' "a Mister Grumpy Gills, aren't you?'

Janus thrust the basket at Brother Emile and did not dignify him with any answer more notable than a slight thinning of

his lips.

Brother Emile drew back the blankets and began to babble at the sleeping Antichrist. Janus took the opportunity to flee.

"Look at you," Brother Emile said happily. "Sleeping in a pic-a-nic basket, huh, Boo-boo?"

After a few more moments of cooing, babytalk, and Boomerang references, he remembered himself and found a wheeled bassinet for the baby Antichrist. 

There is a game, common among carnies and street magicians in which a ball is hidden under cups and shuffled around. Unbeknownst to himself, the two sets of new parents, and all the friars at St Botild's, Brother Emile Analogical was about to become a mark.

And Hell had had nothing to do with it.

same rate, and good and evil had a knack for balancing themselves out in the grand scheme of things. And this left Janus and Patton free to pursue other passions, which somehow resulted in the two of them spending a great deal of time in each other's company.

silence. "It's not even that I disagree with you," he said apologetically. "It's just, well, you know, I'm not allowed to disobey."

his hazelnut hot chocolate. "What's a shame?"

Janus nodded. "Roman Dowling."

Roman was about to turn 21, and lived his life according to the belief that everyone over the age of 30 was, in some degree, an 'elder').

wanna do that."

"Roman!"

people; every social interaction, no matter how minor, always kept his body as tense as wire.