#his itty bitty fang sticking out

[mad-aims]

Local goth cryptid, wants local book hoarder cryptid, to notice him.

[smokbeast]

Im a lil sads but I'm thinking about some cute ideas for my horror sans.

I might call him fang or Tar? I'm not sure,, something to do with his silly teeth. Or a meaningful name I'm not sure. But some of my headcanons for him are like:

-he acts really tough guy and creepy, but he's really just a softie. Kinda nervous when someone is genuine with him. He's not quite used to affection or friendship. Tends to avoid it out of guilt or fear of it going wrong so he's a bit cold at first impressions.

-tends to be really aloof, always staring off zoning out. He has bad dissociation episodes that become difficult to get out of but papyrus (or soma,,) helps bap him back to reality.

- has bad imsonia and when he sleeps its always nightmares that cause him to spiral his magic out of control at times in his room. Sometimes he has magic outbursts cause of the Crack and loss of his eye. Making it hurt when they happen at night.

- when a hunger drive hits him, he's lost all control of himself if he's starving. Especially when he's craving flesh. It's been difficult to adjust to the surface because of these so he tends to avoid humans completely and just stick to the shadows away. He does try to eat regularly when he can but the habit of being stuck underground starving for so long has him forgetting to eat sometimes

- he loves sweets! Candy, juice, fizzy soda. All sorts of drinkable soft drinks he'll get his claws on. His favorite food is also vegetables (anything with tomato is gonna be devoured lol) and seafood (courtesy of a fellow someone teaching him to fish and maybe out of spite,,).

-he likes to read in his spare time. Science fiction novels or research papers. Needs glasses to read cause that eye don't see too well so you'll catch him like some dad under a light on the couch reading.

- he likes jokes but hasn't really told any in a while. The pun love has kinda shit itself out the window over the rough years but you'll know when you real close to him when he starts cracking a bunch of puns near you. He only ever does that with people he likes and trusts.

- is very patient and a good listener. Loves hearing people he cares about talk about their day or interest. You'll catch him smiling at some point as you ramble away and he's absolutely still listening, just enthralled at how happy it makes the person to talk about things.

-will literally pick you up if your tired without second guessing to take you to the nearest couch or bed.

-very protective of others, being the oldest between his au counterparts. Horror sees sans and fell like younger versions of himself (they are tbh,, he's in his late thirties). He'll always keep an eye on them even when they try to fight other. Mostly fell when he starts it. He reminds him of papyrus when he was an Itty bitty kid so he feels big brother mode the most on fell, sans is like the middle brother he never thought he wanted. The guy makes his day with the jokes and it has horror smiling to know sand got thr good ending and fell too.

-will kill for papyrus no questions asked. That's his brother he'll protect and do his best for..

-Soma Soma Soma. Oh God Soma, what's there to say.

[enarmor]

Target acquired. His mission was simple, but boy, was it going to be a delight!

Serial womanizer. Absolutely no game whatsoever. Goofiest headband-hairstyle combo out there. Which was kind of saying a lot, considering how many guys seemed to have headbands around here--

But that wasn't really the point! Today was this guy's unlucky day, and Linus was going to send him on his terrible way with a grin and a laugh!

All he had to do was slip one of the much beloved treats of the many Garreg Mach strays into the flirt's back pocket and--

Yeah, there they went! Cats. Dozens of them. Stampeding over each other in a caterwauling crash to swarm the guy. Some of them simply meowed at him loudly, but others were far less passive and went after the tantalizing smell of their treat with fangs and claws. Those trousers would not be surviving to see another good day.

For as perceptive as Sain can be, it is damn shame he let this slide.

Because the moment the kittens strike, confusion sets in. He hasn't noticed the treat in his back pocket by the time they clamor around him, thinking they desire only his affection. Sain tries to pick one up from under the arms, smiling at it as he presses his nose into its tummy.

"Ahaha, hear to greet your knight and protector? Why hello! I've plenty of love to spare for you adorable things!" And they have plenty they can do for him. A devilish grin spreads from cheek to cheek. "Come, my little chat. I'll show you to a few girls so they can see how affectionate I am..."

But the cat isn't here for any of it. It swats at his headband in response, which Sain reacts to by squinting and immediately setting it down. Then the swarm really kicks in, and before he knows it he's being tackled to the ground by their sheer numbers.

It's humiliating.

In their attempt to dig into his back pocket, they dig his back pocket. That is to say, their itty bitty claws rip giant rips and tear giant tears--soon enough, the backside of Sain's legs are revealed for all to see.

"N-No! Ah! Bad cats! You're all supposed to help me attract women, not embarrass me in front of them! Sh-shoo, shoo!!"

His efforts are fruitless. They do not stop until he is left wearing a half-pant, half-booty short, and the whole scene starts turning heads. In his frantic attempt to locate the source of this disturbance among the growing crowd, Sain thinks he sees it: Linus' backside, walking slowly away.

If everyone else had been drawn to the sight, it stands to reason that the culprit would be the one fleeing the scene.

"Reed!" he screams, trying to claw his way closer as the felines stick to him hoping for more, "This was you, wasn't it! Ah--I'll get you for this!!"

[octopusoptimusprime]

ONCE UPON A MIDNIGHT DREARY AS I SPIT THIS WEAK AND WEARY I WILL CHOKE THIS JOKER WITH A TROCHEE TIL HIS CHEEKS ARE TEARY AAH. BUT YALL DONT HEAR ME ALL SHOULD FEAR ME. ILL FOREVER BE BETTER YOULL NEVER BE NEAR ME YOUR BOOKS ARE AS EERIE AS BEVERLY CLEARY. YOURE A FAUX BRAM STOKER. SO SCRAM THE SHOWS OVER. YOUR FLOWS SO SO POES POEMS PWN POSERS. I WROTE EM LOCKED IN A CAVE. WHILE I SOBBED IN A RAGE. THE TELL TALE HEART BEATS SOFT ON ITS GRAVE WHILE THIS JERK JUST BEATS OFF ON A PAGE.

YOU WANNA TALK SHOP YOU GOTHED OUT FOP GO BACK TO HOT TOPIC AND SHOP FOR A TOP WHOS THE MELANCHOLY ALCOHOLIC LAUGHINGSTOCK IN THE KINGS HOUSE NOW WATCH THE CASTLE ROCK. POUTY LITTLE POET WITH AN OPIATE AFFLICTION IM A WORKAHOLIC WITH A FICTION ADDICTION IM MAKING DEDICATED READERS SHIVERY AND JITTERY FEEL THAT RAGE AND MISERY. YOU BETTER START RUNNING MAN YOURE IN DEEP POO POE IM A MAD DOG FANGS SHINING CUJO. TOMMYKNOCK YOU DOWN TIL YOU CANT STAND UP YOURE AS SOFT AS PO. THE KUNG FU PANDA. RACKS ON RACKS CAUSE I PEN FAT STACKS OF FRIGHTNING WRITING. HAVE YOU SEEN THE PILE. I COULD EVEN TAKE A BREAK FROM MY ROUTINE STYLE CRANK OUT A SHAWSHANK OR A GREEN MILE. MASK OF THE RED DEATH BARELY BLOOD CURDLING PIT AND THE PENDULUM NOT EVEN UNNERVING PERVING ON YOUR FIRST COUSIN WHEN SHES THIRTEEN YEARS OLD NOW THATS DISTURBING.

STEPHEN YOU PRETEND TO DO IT IVE BEEN REALLY LIVING THROUGH IT MISERY AND POVERTY AND FAMILY WOES. I SEE THROUGH YOU LIKE PANTYHOSE DOING CHAPPELLES AND SIMPSONS CAMEOS. EVEN IF YOURE GRIPPING ON A WEAPON THEN YOU BETTER GET TO STEPPING IF YOURE MESSING WITH THE HORROR LORD. IN A MINUTE MAYBE IMMA HIT HIM CUT HIM INTO ITTY BITTY BITS AND IMMA STICK HIM IN THE FLOORBOARDS.

SPEAKING OF BORED YOURE THE WORST DROPPED OUTTA SCHOOL BUT YOU CANT DROP A VERSE. I COULDA SPENT THAT TIME BETTER IN EIGHT BARS I CAN WRITE A WHOLE BEST SELLER IM SO PROLIFIC THIS SICKLY GOBLIN WONT BE BOTHERING ME IM ON A CLOBBERING SPREE AND ILL BE SMACKING YOU WITH ANY OF THE BIG THICK BOOKS IN MY BIG DICK BIBLIOGRAPHY. SEE IM THE AUTHOR WITH THE BLOOD AND GORE LORE GALORE THAT WILL HORRIFY A READER TO THE CORE. FAME MONEY TALENT SUCCESS YOULL ALWAYS HAVE LESS NEVER MORE.

[creativia10]

The Flowers Tradition

When the Collector comes to visit his friends on the Boiling Isles, Luz is in the human world. He learns it's the anniversary of her dad's death. Wanting to understand more, The collector joins her in honoring her late dad.

Warnings: death meantions (as Luz is grieving her dad)

Let me know if I'm missing any

Wordcount: 1848

Notes: I wanted to have the Collector try and understand human grief again. I thought showing him Luz's tradition of honoring her dad with her mom would be a good way to do so.

Space can be boring sometimes. The Collector had thought he made the right decision to spend some time back among the stars. To grow up after everything they did at the Boiling Isles. Admittedly though, he was coming up with reasons to visit more often than he thought they would. Then again, it was hard to keep track of Earth time when he was away from it. Really, they were lucky he didn’t come back years later.

So, he wasn’t sure what to expect when they came back to the Boiling Isles since leaving. There were certainly a lot fewer reparations finished than he expected. Really, how did itty bitties handle doing things so slowly? It sounds so boring to spend so much time cleaning up.

He floated around above the Isles for a bit, trying to find a good place to land and see their friends. His castle was still on top of the Titan’s skull where they left it, which made sense. But nobody was around it though.

Finally, he saw some friends in front of the Owl house. King was in the front playing. Eda was standing behind him chatting with someone. They looked like that puppet the collector had who seemed to have come to life. Who the Collector later learned was possessed by Belos at that time. Raine, he thinks their name was?

The Collector floated down towards the trio.

“King!” He exclaimed as he landed in front of them. King paused and turned to face him.

“Collector!” King exclaimed back. He then ran forward to give the Collector a hug. The Collector returned the hug, blinking as their eyes got a bit misty. Gosh, he missed his friend.

The Collector pulled back and then waved behind them.

“Hi, Eda!”

Eda smiled at him with her fang sticking out.

“Welcome back, Collector. You were missed.”

Raine, who had their arm wrapped around Eda, nodded at him.

Just then, some of the other kids Luz was friends with started to walk up to the Owl House. They paused when they saw him.

“Collector? Gosh, it’s been a while.”

The Collector smiled and waved at them with both hands.

“Hiya! It’s good to see everyone again. Space is lonely. And you all are more interesting.”

More of them smiled at his enthusiasm.

The Collector looked around though when he noticed someone was missing.

“Where’s Luz?”

The others exchanged looks with each other at that.

“She’s in the human world,” King said.

The Collector wilted a bit at that.

“Oh,” They said, “Does she spend more time there now?”

“Yes…” King said, seeming hesitant.

“But there’s a specific reason today.”

“Oh?” The Collector tilted his head. “Why’s that?”

The others paused again.

“Today is an anniversary of sorts. She usually spends the day with her mom.”

“Oh. Well, I really want to see her. Do you think it’s okay for me to join at least for a moment to say hi?”

King hesitated.

“You should probably at least ask her if that’s okay.”

The Collector frowned. “O-okay,” It would still be a chance to see her after all.

“She’s going to be at a specific place in the human realm this time. Probably one you haven’t been to yet,” King continued.

Then Amity stepped forward.

“I’ll take you there. She’s shown me where it is before.”

-

Amity lead him to a type of place the Collector hadn’t been to before. It was a fenced-in area of grass that had carved gray stones interspersed throughout. They almost resembled tablets. Besides many of the stones were flowers. The Collector squinted his eyes as he looked around. Why would Luz be at this place? It didn’t look like there was anything to do.

“What is this place?” The Collector asked as they looked up to Amity. Amity pressed her lips together as she looked ahead. Her expression was a bit hard to read.

“This is a cemetery,” She said.

That sounded familiar. She looked around and then started to walk along the path. The Collector followed. After going up the hill a bit she stopped. Amity pointed ahead and to a bit to the left. It looked like the backs of Luz and her mom standing in front of one of the carved stones.

“You can go ahead. I want to give them some space. If Luz doesn’t want to visit right now, please respect that, alright?”

“…okay.” The Collector was still confused about what was going on, but he didn’t want to upset Luz.

He carefully walked forward, with more caution than he usually moved with. As he got close, they noticed Luz and her mom talking quietly with each other.

“…uh, Luz?”

Luz jumped. Then she and her mom both turned around with wide eyes.

“Collector!?” Luz exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

The Collector rocked in place slightly.

“I uh, I was visiting the Boiling Isles and noticed you weren’t there, but I wanted to see you and at least say hi. Your friends told me where you were, but not to disturb you if you wanted space,” He said. Then he pointed to the way he came. Luz looked over to see Amity still where she had stopped earlier. Amity waved. After Luz nodded to her, Amity turned around and started to walk back down the hill.

“Can I ask what you’re doing?” The Collector asked, “Everyone’s being weird about it and I don’t understand.”

Luz sighed and waved him forward. He came to her, and she kneeled to be at his level.

“This is the anniversary of my dad passing away,” Luz said. She pointed to the stone in front of them. The Collector looked and saw that it said the name Manny Noceda, and listed the years of his life. “Every year my mom and I come to visit his grave.” Luz looked up as her mom held her hand and squeezed it a little.

“We set flowers here to honor him. And then my mom and I spend the day together.”

The Collector looked back over at the gravestone. He didn’t really know what human lifespans looked like, but Luz did seem young to not have a father anymore.

It was strange to picture that his friend’s father was apparently laid to rest here. Years meant it had been some time for them, for the dad to be gone like this. Death was still a concept difficult for the Collector to grasp. It had clearly affected his friend directly though. He only got a glimpse of that feeling when Luz had died. It was horrible. And he hadn’t even known her that long yet.

He didn’t really have parents in the same way mortals did, as a being born from the stars. But he knew it was a significant relationship to them.

“Can I ask what happened to him?” The Collector asked.

Luz sucked in a sharp breath and then looked down to the side at the flowers still in her hands.

“He got sick.”

The Collector nodded. He wasn’t sure he fully understood still. But he wanted to. Even if this was not a fun mortal experience he would want. It was still affecting her after all.

“…can I join you in honoring him?” He asked.

Luz blinked seeming surprised. Then she nodded.

“Yeah, sure.”

Luz’s mom knelt in front of the grave and brushed her hand against the stone.

He looked at the flowers Luz was holding. Then they twirled their hand to create three flowers for him to hold as well. Except these were purple flowers from the Boiling Isles.

“So how do we honor him with these?” They asked.

“I’ll show you,” Luz said. She bent over and laid her own flowers in front of the grave. Her mother did the same next to Luz’s.

“Hey Dad,” Luz said. She began to update him on things going on in her life. With the Boiling Isles, going back to human school, and having a girlfriend. She also said that she missed him, and thinks about him all the time.

Wasn’t he gone? Why was she talking to the stone like it was him?

“Why are you talking like he can hear you? I hope I don’t seem rude, I’m just confused,” The Collector said.

Luz gave them a sad smile.

“I’d like to think he can, where he may be. A lot of people talk to their loved ones who have passed. Sometimes it’s a way to help us deal with the grief. It’s easier to think some part of them is still here, just not in the living world anymore. I have now met someone who wasn’t quite dead, in the in-between, so it seems possible to me.”

“Hm…can I say something to him too?” The Collector asked.

Luz nodded.

“If you want.”

The Collector placed his flowers by Luz’s, and looked at the stone, trying to picture he was looking at someone. Maybe an older, man version of Luz.

“Hi, Luz’s Dad…I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but I felt like I should say something. Um, you don’t know me, but Luz has become a very special friend to me. She helped me understand some things I hadn’t before. Which lead me to be able to help her and many other people. You should be very proud of her. Thank you for helping to bring Luz into this world. That alone means you’re important to me too, even if I never met you.”

The Collector nodded to themselves, satisfied with the sentiment. He turned back to Luz who was looking back at him with a stunned expression and misty eyes. The Collector smiled at her hesitantly and stepped up to her.

“Can I give you a hug?” He asked.

Luz gave him a trembling smile and nodded. The Collector went up to her and wrapped their arms around her. She hugged him back and sniffed a bit. When she pulled away, she wiped her eyes and stood back up.

“Come on,” She held a hand out. “I usually give Mama a moment alone with him.”

The Collector took her hand and followed her to a bench that was near the path.

“Thank you for trying to understand what I’m going through,” Luz said. “I know how this is a bit of a foreign topic to you.”

The Collector shrugged.

“It’s important to you. Besides, I wanted to understand better anyways.”

He stood up.

“I won’t encroach on your time with your mom for the rest of the day. I just wanted to be a part of this.”

Luz looked conflicted, like she was going to argue about him leaving, but then nodded. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”

The Collector nodded.

“Yeah,”

He floated away a bit slowly in contemplation. This was a lot to process. He wished his friends didn’t have to go through such awful things as grief. Hopefully, he and their friends could be there for her. And make spending time with each other good even amidst such awful feelings.

[noisilyscreechingsong]

‘Well this wasn’t ideal’ Tim thought to himself.

Bright green eyes stared up at him and Tim blinks back. He looks down the alley and back behind him. No one. No parents calling for a lost child. No stroller just laying around. No clues to help him figure out where this child- toddler came from.

He looks back down and the kid is making grabby hands at him now. He’s not even Red Robin right now, he just needed to grab some food on the way home.

The white hair is suspicious, as is the slight green glow coming off the child, but what’s really bothering him is those toxic eyes that remind him a little too much of Jason’s when the Pit Madness gets to him.

Tim contemplates picking up the kid. Should he just call Bruce? He wasn’t really in the position to be- oh, the kid floats.

Apparently the boy got impatient and decided to go to Tim. That’s fine. Everything is totally normal. He sees this on a daily basis.

He adjusts the carry out bag in his hand to accommodate the pint sized child settling into his arms like they did this all the time. The boy weighs… nothing. Literally like holding a balloon. He has to wrap his arms tighter so the child doesn’t fly away.

“Um, hi?”

The boy doesn’t respond except to snuggle closer, shoving his face into Tim’s neck like he wants to merge together.

“O-kay… where are your parents?” Is the logical question.

Tim knew the child was young, but he could still talk, right? How old was he? Like two? Three?

Maybe he should try an easier question.

“So my name’s Tim. What’s yours?”

He looks down and gets a face full of white hair for his trouble. He blows it away from his mouth and looks around again. Who was he kidding? This was a meta kid that was probably dumped in a dirty ally and might get trafficked if Tim doesn’t-

OW!

Did he just-? Did this toddler just bite him? On the neck? That liquid running down to soak into his collar was most definitely his blood.

Shit, is this a vampire child? Is he gonna turn into a vampire now?

Best bet is to get back to his Nest and wait it out, see what happens.

Oh. Good. The kid fell asleep.

It didn’t take long to get back to his safe place with a strange glowing child clinging to him and blood sticking to his skin.

His internal panic was to the point he was calm and rather collected. Tim had no other problems setting the toddler down on the couch for the rest of his surprise nap and head to the bathroom to wipe off the blood from his neck wound made by little baby fangs. They were actually kinda cute if he didn’t think about the fact they were used against him.

Tim casually ate his take out while watching the kid doze out the corner of his eye. That’s probably the only reason he witnessed what he did.

A bright white light engulfed the toddler suddenly, and after blinking several times he was convinced he was still blinded by the light show. The boy now had black hair like his and a healthy complexion, any hint of glowing gone.

The kid squirms in protest and then slowly blinks open very familiar blue eyes. Wait a minute. Did his face change too? Minute details seemed to have shifted just a bit to look more like… well, Tim.

Blue eyes meet matching blue eyes. They blink at each other.

Then the toddler sees his fork full of Chinese noodles hovering in the air where he froze. The boy slips off the couch and totters over. Clumsily, he climbs up into Tim’s lap (with no help from the vigilante) and sits down with a huff. An itty bitty hand grabs his own and pulls the fork until the boy can eat his food.

Rude.

And then they proceed to have a little disagreement about who’s food this actually was. Spoiler: they compromised and shared the container. It wasn’t like Tim was going to eat all of it anyway, it was a reasonable and mature decision not at all swayed by the cute pout and angry eyebrows.

Turns out the kid isn’t a vampire, he was just taking a sample to copy, because that’s the only reasonable explanation. That’s the good news. In other news, Tim is a dad now to a toddler that now shares DNA with him.

After thinking through a thorough plan on the kid’s soon to be identity and paperwork and an airtight background story to tell Bruce and the rest of the crazies, Tim does what he should have done thirty minutes ago. He calls Kon.

Teenage Dad Tim

An idea I am having right before my flight back home starts... I will expand on it more once I am home tho but for now hear me out please.

Teenage Dad Tim. We got Bruce, Dick and Jason taking in Danny but do we have Tim taking him in?

Like deaged Danny (reduced to a toddler because of his Ghost age) suddenly appearing before Tim with white hair and Lazarus green eyes, clearly a meta kid too in Tim's eyes. And Tim just goes... yep that's a toddler with pit madness, let me just forge some papers real quick and then I can investigate my new kid.

No B, you can't have him. Danny is mine now. See the papers. He is illegally mine now.

[wolviecore]

Some trans Jughead headcanons bc I got inspired:

He knew really young that something was just out of place, not only with himself but also how everyone treated him

" Forsthyia, baby can you -" " No, " itty bitty baby pointing at his chest, " Not Forsthyia. Forsythe" and FP nods like, ok I got it

" so hey we have a son now, just thought you should know" Gladys is confused. Did you try stealing that Fogarty kid again?? "

No I mean, we have a Forsthye now."

Gladys doesn't really get it, but since she doesn't plan to stick around that much, doesn't really mind.

Mostly she's bothered bc they bought all those " girl" things for nothing. " We could always donate them or give them away." " That sounds kind and charitable. Let's just have another kid."

Everyone takes it really well, - Archie changes the sign of their tree house from A + B + F to A + B + J

" Jughead? You sure?" " Yep!" " ... Cool. Hey dad, I want to change my name too!"

Alice tells Betty not to get any ideas, but also makes sure Jughead only comes over when when Hal isn't home (small mercies)

Jug inheriting some of Archie's hand me downs like shirts and jeans and overalls, but also some of FP's. He drowns in everything but they're great to sleep in

Because I love the Jangs friendship, Fangs also takes some of his younger siblings' clothes and leaves them on the Jonses' doorstep ( FP sees him several times but never says anything)

His discomfort grows when he does. The first time he experiences body disphoria is when he's a junior and Jason Blossom sneaks a hand on his thigh in English. " You're a good writer, right? Maybe you can help me out." (Jason is like lowkey creepy sorry not sorry sjsj)

He runs away, and maybe his small fists won't leave the bruise Jason deserves, but the shock on his face is priceless

He does get detention, but is that a spark of approval in Weatherbee's eye? " And you can tell your father Jason will get a hefty suspension. Mister Jones."

Betty gets suspended for knocking two teeth out of his mouth and surprisingly enough Alice doesn't comment on it

Archie takes him out for milkshakes later that day, " want an awkward bro hug?" " always" " and do you want me to kill that guy for you? Because I can totally kill that guy for you" " nO"

Cheryl specifically comes to apologize to him, in her own way. " You're the only boy I tolerate in this God forsaken breeding ground of drama and social cooties."

The Bulldogs were bad before (bc they have crushes on him) but now, it got a bit worse. However Jug does take some comfort Reggie remained the same

One of them does make a comment about doing things to his chest, visible even through 2 layers of shirts. But said creep gets suspended from the team and an anonymous benefactor leaves a binder in Jug's locker a week later, with a note.

'' If you're going to be annoying, at least be comfortable about it."

Reggie isn't very subtle because when he pins Jug to lockers or hits him he avoids his chest even if Jug never mentioned anything

By the time he's a sophomore he still can't use the boys lockeroom, - not that he desperately wants to, Archie and Kevin have enough horror stories to fill a Stephen King book about them

so at PE, Cheryl, Veronica and Betty make sure everyone either gets dressed before he arrives, or wait for him to finish before going in

Eveeyone who matters knows he's homeless once it happens. Archie finds out first, but doesn't want to embarrass Jug, nor offer help upfront since it'll most likely go unaccepted, but they help in small ways

Betty invites him over to slumber parties with Polly and Veronica. Cheryl can't always be present because Penelope still holds a grudge to the punch incident

But while they're there, Alice keeps FP informed of his well being and promises he'll be okay. Also makes sure to pack food for Betty to stuff in his backpack when everyone's asleep

Cheryl and Veronica help with the more uncomfortable stuff. Leaving tampons or other hygiene products for him to find once a month, or asking the janitor or the school nurse to say " they just found them around"

There's also the Book. Nefarious. Pretty much all the girls are in it, safe for Cheryl and Betty, who apparently are way too gay to be believable

But Jug is there too, in Jason's neat handriwiting next to Polly and thats how Archie and Reggie get suspended for the rest of the year

When the whole Jason thing happens everyone thinks its Archie and FP who did it. Jug would concentrate on that but the tall Southside boy is distracting

His family is super worried when the transfer happens bc the Southside isn't the most tolerant part (no part in Riverdale is, but) with tough boys and girls which Jughead. Isn't.

Fangs being unreasonably happy when Jug wears a shirt he knows for a fact was his own a while ago. " Good to know you finally grew into it." Jug doesn't know what he means by that, and pouts. " Is that a short joke?"

Jug being surprised they know who he is, - he expected them to remember FP's daughter, but not him. Toni scoffs. " Are you kidding? FP can't keep quiet about his amazing writer son. It remains to be seen if you live up to the hype."

Jug rejecting Sweet Pea's quarry invite because he doesn't want to out himself

he can see Sweet Pea took it personally tho, so he uses some of his savings to buy cake mix and decorate some cupcakes terribly, which he leaves them in the beat up locker next to his.

Precisely not staying with the serpents bc he doesn't think sweet pea likes him, and if he found out about the detail that could make or break his experience at this school, would downright detest him

Toni and Fangs know but say nothing to Sweet Pea bc its not their place, but also, they can tell he sees this as a challenge and it's a good distraction from Josie

Sweet Pea sees Toni and Jug walking together from the girls' bathroom and thinks they have a thing? Which is weird considering Toni hasn't stopped mooning about Jugs scary redhead friend

Maybe he knocks over Toni's motorcycle after, maybe he doesn't. " You're a loser." " Your face is a loser."

It's not only Toni thought. One time he asks Jug (read: corners him) why he won't get in the locker room with the boys and Jug speaks even less to them after

Which results in Fangs not speaking to him either. " Are you blind, or just stupid?" " What are you talking about? " " Not my place to say. Just know that you're a dumbads and really not helping your case."

BONUS points if Sweet Pea had a crush on Jug before he transitioned and may not recognize him now, but also keeps a picture of a girl patching his knee in his lockeroom door

And then Jug remembers him as well and doesn't speak to his " playground husband" at all

[shiversdownyerspine]

6. Kittenish

It’s dangerous to go alone, take this. ;)

Over a period of a week or two, life wanders on at a languid pace with only a couple of notable interruptions. The kittens have settled in quite nicely, and their personalities have started to shine. Adoringly nicknamed Thing 1 and Thing 2, the two older brothers had given you such incredulous looks, with Oscar looking nearly offended to which you laughed and quickly explained these names are temporary until something else sticks. Well...hopefully. You added that last part as you disguised amusement with uncertainty, watching as mild horror returned to their faces.

Secretly you wanted to see if the thought of bestowing such unfitting names to the kittens would inspire the three men, but even if that proves unfruitful, you're confident you'll think of something. Strangely enough, or perhaps not so strange at all considering it's you, you're tempted to name them after pasta. Long skinny noodle cats that they will one day be, it kind of fits. Hmm.

A tiny body hurdling itself around the corner of your coffee table just to scramble under it interrupts your current train of thought; Thing 1 has proven to be a firecracker and adventurer extraordinaire, getting into anything and everything with no sign of fear or hesitation. Once he gets going, he'll be in crazy mode for a while, nothing can stop him. There is seemingly no end to his energy.

Thing 1's sibling comes scampering around the same corner after him. Thing 2 is fairly mellow, but has a hidden switch. He can go from perfectly calm to bouncing off the walls without much warning or reason, and then just as suddenly he's plopped down on the carpet like nothing even happened. He is more cautious as well, preferring to test the waters before gingerly wading out into the unknown.

Thing 2 inspects the tiny paws of his brother that bat this way and that under the table, just out of reach. Losing interest, or perhaps momentarily distracted, he decides now is the time to turn the side of your sofa into a torn mess. Up on his hind quarters and ready to shred, he looks you in the eye and...his bad behavior is thwarted when Oscar lifts him up in a single hand. Bringing the fuzzball to his face, he tuts quietly and delivers the miscreant to his scratching post. You lean down to wiggle your fingers in the carpet to lure out Thing 1, who will gladly be tempted with the chance to destroy.

Oscar has been really good with them, even getting up early in the mornings now and then to assist you with feeding and bathing and whatnot. The strangest thing happened around the time he started doing this; one morning after feeding the kittens and returning to the kitchen, you had set about to grab up one of your freshly baked Strawberry Turnovers. Otto and Oscar were preoccupied with their own breakfast, but offered you nods to wish you a good morning when you entered the kitchen. Still sleepy, instead of verbally responding you offered your own ever so serious good morning nod, earning amused sounds from the two men. Noting Axel's missing presence, you chalked it up to him starting his morning with a quick shower.

Wandering over to the steaming oatmeal cooling on the stove, you ladle a couple big dollops into your bowl before adding a splash of milk to cool it down. With you sufficiently distracted, Oscar slunk out of his chair to creep up to your back with mischievous intent. The whoosh of air that left his lungs as Otto lunged and yanked him back, practically slamming the younger back into his seat, was almost enough to shift your focus. But since sleep had unfortunately remained elusive to you, your alertness had been dealt a blow. 

So when you turned around to find Otto contentedly chewing a pastry and Oscar sprawled out strangely in his seat, you weren't quite sure what to make of it. You looked between the two before slowly taking your leave to enjoy your breakfast in the garden as usual. Otto started helping you with the kittens as well after that, you swear the man became your shadow whenever Oscar is around. It's a good coincidence though, as all three men have proven to be good company when they're not suspiciously questioning you. Although you must admit, with the new rules set into place and the three abiding by them, you're finding it easier and easier to open up to them.

As a matter of fact, a couple days earlier when Axel had asked you about previous work you had done before the Commission, you had found it almost effortless to answer. You had even added some technically unrelated information without thinking about it; after you left the orphanage, you had been provided for by your guardian, seeing as you were still too young to look for work. The omission of said guardian's name wasn't pushed, you reckoned it probably didn't matter all that much to the assassins. 

The small town near your home had a fairly expansive farmer's market, and after seeing all manner of items and foods displayed you had tinkered with the idea of on one day becoming a seller. A good amount of your time was spent planning it all out; your main products would have been baked and home-canned goods, as even from a young age you had such a sweet tooth. Although with your fondness for gardening, you wouldn't have been surprised if you had included flowers eventually. 

Realistically the threat of your ability being discovered complicated things quite a bit, so you had pondered if made-to-order goods would be a better option. Hopefully you wouldn't have been out in public too much if you chose this line of work, baking in private and delivering the goods to your customers. Maybe even having someone pick up and deliver them for you? You had kind of liked the idea of having your home be your own little bakery.

When Otto asked how long you'd been selling your baking for, you admitted it had only been for a short time. A couple of people who had seen you around town had actually commissioned you for some cakes and treats and had spread the word, but before you could really dive into the role, the Commission agent had approached you and your baking had been pushed to the side. 

You don't really regret it all that much. After the orphanage, you had developed the habit of visiting the animal shelters in town. Fearing a wayward bite might give you away, your visits had been understandably rare. You had been seriously considering fostering when the agent made you an offer.

Quietly, you ponder for a moment the negative aspects of being under the Commission's thumb; you had been given a half-assed set of rules that you were to follow, basic drivel except for annoying little details you can guess are related to your ability; you were not allowed to travel, any effort to spend a prolonged period of time outside the vicinity of your home had to be approved first. Initially you had scoffed at their feeble rules, after all, this was practically what you already did to keep your ability hidden. You had accepted long ago that you were destined to be a little hermit.

It was only after recently accepting their terms that, when you had trekked to civilization to stock up on some much needed items like food and animal care products for future tasks, you had truly felt the leash tugging at your neck. As the hours passed and you made your way from shop to shop and carefully perused their selection for your necessary items, you could not shake the feeling that you were being watched. And followed. 

Realizing that the 'prolonged period of time' was much shorter than you had discerned, you finished your shopping as quick as you could and headed home. You decided in the future to cut your trips short and only buy what was the utmost essential. The added risk of distraction caused by your mysterious stalker resulting in an accidental injury also served as incentive to make yourself scarce. Good grief though, it wouldn't have killed them to be a little more specific with the rules they set in place for you.

Thing 1's deceptively sharp claws and fangs prick your skin as he wraps around your ankle, snapping you back to the present. With a sharp, 'No!' and a clap of your hands, the offender releases you immediately and stares you down. Ears tucked back and tail lashing, the baby considers challenging your authority before the movement of his own tail distracts him and he decides the appendage is to suffer for his unsettlement. 

You chuckle, shaking your head as Thing 1 twists and twirls in an attempt to capture his own tail. Picking him up, you deposit him carefully on the couch in hope of luring the kitten to nap. Repetitive squeaking has you peering over your shoulder to find Thing 2 ambling away from the scratching post in favor of demanding the attention and affection of the eldest brother as Oscar watches on with a grin. The older man scowls, but you all know better.

He had been quite aloof in the beginning; when the babies had arrived and the men had visited them in your bathroom, Thing 1 had immediately tried to climb up Otto's pant leg. You had fiercely fought the urge to express just how adorable you found the situation, for the kitten's paws were absolutely itty bitty when compared to Otto's fingers as he carefully detached the tiny claws from the fabric. Thing 2 had remained shy for a while, watching quietly, only to decide to toddle up to Axel and investigate him. The little Siamese kitten had decided that this man was the most interesting thing. At all times.

The assassin hadn't really reacted, but a couple days later when you had brought the babies out to explore the living room you had caught him rubbing a finger against a tiny fuzzy cheek. The ticklish caress of a knuckle teasing under your chin brushed the surface of your mind but dissipated just as quickly before you could determine why your cheeks suddenly felt a little warm. You shook the thought from your mind. Given how another time you had caught out of the corner of your eye the man picking up Thing 2 to save him from Thing 1's rough housing, it was evident that someone has a soft spot.

Relaxing next to you on the sofa, Otto blinks in surprise when the tiny terror climbs onto his thigh to wobble out on to his knee and sit quietly. Surveying his kingdom, no doubt. Perhaps he’s looking for signs of the other cats stowed away in your bedroom to give them a needed break? You must admit, you’re rather happy to say you're no longer as concerned about your cats interacting with the babies. Pumpkin still prefers to keep her distance but Butternut adores them, to the point that she has taken it upon herself to clean and carry the babies around.

A couple hours earlier, Otto had been the one to catch her mothering them. He had pointed it out, reaching for you. The large warm palm that rested on the small of your back had given you the strangest feeling, like someone was flipping your stomach like a pancake in a skillet. 

With some difficulty you shoved it to the back of your mind and beamed at the man, commenting that you had hoped Butternut would be a good influence, but didn't think she'd adopt them outright. The warmth in your belly rippled when he smiled down at you, thumb sweeping back and forth so gently that you must have imagined it. You really need to get more sleep.

In the quiet of the evening, a brand new interruption to the usual routine occurred; you had been running a little late with dinner preparations as Thing 1 had decided to hide away, perhaps sensing that it was time to go back in their bathroom for the night. While you searched the living room and apologized that dinner might be a bit delayed, Axel had unconcernedly sauntered in to the kitchen, donned your colorful pawprint covered apron, and got to cooking. Delighted, you teased him not to burn down your kitchen, to which he responded that if anyone would be turning your home into kindling, it would be Oscar. Oscar's indignant shout tickled your funny bone something awful.

As you cleaned up after a lovely fish dinner, as a way to thank the eldest sibling and possibly encourage a repeat, the ‘shunk!’ of a tube in your cabinet nearly made you jump out of your skin. The Commission had finally gotten in touch with the Swedes, taking the initiative to explain the lack of missions and prolonged downtime. You listened intently as Axel read aloud.

It would seem there were changes on the horizon; as your home would be acting as their base of operations, this gave the Commission a chance in the future to implement a new experimental technology that would allow their agents to go to the time their target resided in without the use of a briefcase. Apparently the increasing misuse and destruction of the cases had sparked alarm and a new method was being looked into. 

Instead of a briefcase, a sort of 'rendezvous point' was to be accessed once your agents had gathered sufficient intel and were prepared to neutralize their target. Following any unforeseen developments or challenges presented by the mission, they would find the 'rendezvous point' to your home would still be accessible if they chose to regroup and rethink their strategy. 

That was it. Nothing more to satisfy your curiosity or appease your concerns; what exactly would allow these time jumps, what were the parameters, the restrictions? The chip that was imbedded in each and every one of the Commission's agents, did that have something to do with it? Certainly it would be a lot harder for a chip in one's body to be stolen or lost, possibly less costly as well compared to the briefcases? Did the infinite switchboard play a part? If an agent decided to go AWOL, would they even be able to access the 'rendezvous point' anymore or would they be cut off? You just didn't have enough information...

Shaking off the speculations, you look at the metaphorical glass as being half full. Some explanation is better than none, after all. Thoughtful, you mention that seeing how any mission or assignment is so sparsely worded, you're rather surprised the Commission would put in a little more effort to this message. Axel cocks his head, quietly considering. 

From what you understand, the three men living with you are some of their best assassins, so maybe that offered certain perks? Like extra sentences? That earns you some loosely amused squints and scoffs before Otto interjects, mentioning freedom and traveling, how the three are given a lot of leeway both on and off missions. They're free to do nearly anything they want, so long as it doesn't jeopardize the mission.

Dishes all collected in the dishwasher and cycle started, you grin cheekily, remarking, "Nearly anything? Goodness, how nice that must have been..at least..." 

Words trailing off, the brothers watch confused from their seats as you wander around the table, clearly intent on getting ready for bed as was customary. Pausing under the entryway, you finish your sentence.

"..until the Commission felt you all needed a slap on the wrist and a babysitter."

There was a moment of silence and utter shock, an absolute stillness before you broke it by earnestly wishing them all a goodnight.

As soon as the word left your lips, Hell was unleashed. The scandalization on their faces and the clamor of chairs scooting across the kitchen floor had you scurrying to the safety of your room with a bright bubbling laugh.

You should probably watch your back the next couple of days.

[itsclydebitches]

I'm just curious. Do you ever feel like people processed their outrage over vol 7 in your ask box? Also one quick question for you. The 'military is bad' take is kinda weird considering every season up to this point slammed home that the de-unified huntsman society of other kingdoms was easily overwhelmed by Salem. Plus, if Atlas is weird because it combined its military and huntsman, what the heck is every other kingdom using its own separated military for??

Sometimes! Which, for the record, isn’t automatically a bad thing. God knows I processed my frustration via the recaps/answers. Asks are just an extension of that. But yeah, when we’re upset about something (even a “meaningless” something like a web-series) one of the easiest ways to feel better is to express that frustration to someone who shares your opinion. Though sadly that means that if I don’t share their opinion the anon might not be getting what they came for. Some people want my take on an aspect of the show. Other people assume they already know my take and are confident in going, “This was just the worst, right?” ... and then when I respond with, “I actually don’t think that was a problem” they’re disappointed. Just because they were looking for that catharsis and didn’t get it. It doesn’t happen often because it’s pretty easy to tell where I stand on most of these topics (lol), but every once in a while I do get a case of an anon essentially going, “I’m frustrated by this! Let’s process it together!” and I’m on a completely different wavelength of, “I’m not frustrated at all because I quite liked that part.” 

Also yeah, as always the world building here is... iffy lol. Do we even know if other kingdoms still have a military? I kind of got the sense that Huntsmen weren’t just separated from them, but were their replacement. Which, fine. We’ve certainly seen throughout the show that one Huntsmen is worth 50 regular soldiers. If it works, it works. However, what I find to be a problem is how the ‘military is bad’ theme ignores the actual issues we see with Atlas’ armed forces as well as ignoring its strengths: 

I’d argue that the most concrete moment of ‘this isn’t working’ occurs when Ironwood brings his army to Beacon. However, Ozpin doesn’t say, “James it’s horrible that you have an army.” He specifically criticizes how the army is used: it scares people. You shouldn’t use such a heavy hand when a lighter touch will do. Especially when fear breeds dissent and brings grimm. So what does Ironwood do? When he’s put into a position where an army is necessary - we have very few Huntsmen and grimm keep swarming the city - he nevertheless tries to lessen fear as much as he can. He puts Penny on the front lines, giving the people a figurehead. That’s his light touch. Whenever he can he sends her in to protect civilians, both because she’s wonderfully powerful and because a cute girl rescuing you is better than the men in armor. Which brings me to the army’s strength: 

Namely that they’re the numbers Huntsmen desperately need. Sure, Ruby can carve through a ton of grimm in a minute, but how long can she keep that up? How many places can she reach? She - and her friends - certainly can’t be everywhere at once. Ironwood’s men may not be particularly powerful, but their weapons can take out the swarms of grunt grimm that, frankly, would tear open the average civilian. Someone without aura and training doesn’t care if that’s an itty bitty baby grimm or the biggest bad they’ve ever seen: they’re dead either way. The grimm are themselves an army. That means you need an army to hold them at bay, especially when you consider the size of an entire city. You need those numbers to take out as many grimm as possible while your grand total of 17 huntsmen are doing the heavy lifting. Like needing 3 or 4 to take out one massive grimm. While they’re doing that? Smaller grimm are getting by and killing people. So you need a line to hold them back. Even if it’s just holding them back. As we saw at the beginning of the volume, the men kept the grimm at bay long enough for civilians to run and for RWBYJNR to arrive on the scene. They might not be able to kill grimm like a Huntsmen can, but their job is still very important. 

Problem is, the story doesn’t take either of these things into account. Neither how Ironwood tries to take Ozpin’s advice nor the benefits that the army provides. RWBY provides an incredibly simplistic view of, “The army looks menacing walking the streets so therefore it’s bad.” Which, frankly, is a knee-jerk reaction built on real world politics as opposed to RWBY’s own worldbuilding and context. In our world armies are unnecessarily violent. In our world armies are corrupt. In our world armies commit heinous crimes and abandon their soldiers once they’ve left. There is a LOT wrong with real world armies, perhaps including their existence at all. In RWBY’s world though, all we know about Ironwood’s army is that a) it exists and b) it’s helping save lives. Literally. This isn’t - like our world - one army of people set against another army of people. It’s an army set against monsters. We do not have monsters in our lives, threatening to eat people if someone with a gun (or a scythe) isn’t there to cut them down. That’s why our reality can’t map onto RWBY’s, but it’s what RT banks on. They want people to have that instinctual reaction of, “Armies are bad. Authorities are bad. A white man holding a lot of power is bad. I know this because these things are causing a lot of problems in the real world,” without acknowledging that RWBY has very, very different issues. An endless army of grimm that can tear apart anyone without aura changes things. As does the threat of an immortal grimm queen hell bent on their destruction. You can’t rely on your audience’s experiences with real world armies and then apply that to the situation, “Massive, fanged beasts are coming to eat everyone!” I get that the core group are our heroes here, but it makes total sense that a world wouldn’t rely entirely on Huntsmen to protect them. Especially when we’ve seen/heard of a ton of Huntsmen die. They have low numbers to begin with and it’s not like they’re all sticking around... When you’re dealing with something like the grimm, you need all the help you can get. 

[queenofcats17]

Hey!! Can you write a write a HS where Joey screws up an accidentally turns Wally into a monster? You don't have to! I just really like my boy and think there should be more of him :)

Yeah! Sure! You didn’t specify which kind of monster so I’m gonna just choose one myself. I’ve done a lot of werewolf Wally, so….I think I’m gonna get creative. >:3c

———————————————————————–

Everyone had spent the day avoiding Wally. It wasn’t out of malice, though. No, everyone had been avoiding Wally because they knew if they saw him they wouldn’t be able to get any work done whatsoever. The reason for this? One of Joey’s rituals had backfired again.

And Wally Franks had been turned into a demon.

No one was exactly sure how Joey had managed to do this, least of all Joey himself, but it had happened all the same. Wally Franks was now a legitimate demon. Something straight out of one of Joey’s demonology books. It was honestly a rather impressive feat, although no one was really in the mood to praise Joey.

The physical changes weren’t too drastic, to the point where everyone had initially thought the light that had hit Wally hadn’t done anything. He had cute little devil horns sticking out of his frizzy hair, making it rather hard for him to wear his hat, a little forked tail, and some frankly adorable bat wings. He also had teensy fangs. He kept accidentally biting his cheek due to not being used to having sharp teeth. Other than that, the changes to his body hadn’t been too much of a hindrance for him.

Now, according to Joey, certain male demons had the ability to sexually arouse humans around them. Had this been true for Wally, it would have been a huge problem for everyone in the studio. Thankfully, Wally didn’t seem to be that sort of demon. Instead, everyone thought he was absolutely adorable. Especially with his itty bitty fangs and teeny tiny wings.

“You’re so cute!” Susie cooed, pinching his cheeks. “Look at your teensy weensy wings!!”

Just as he had when Wally had gotten turned into a toon, Sammy was dying laughing again. He was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, which did not help Wally’s embarrassment.

“Now, don’t give him such a hard time. I’m sure he’s having a difficult enough time already.” Norman chided Susie, although he looked on the verge of laughter as well.

“But he’s so cute!” Susie said, letting go of Wally and gesturing to him. “Look at his little wings!!”

Wally got outta there as quickly as he could.

The toons had thus far proved to be immune to his demonic “charms”, which meant he’d mostly been hanging out with them while Joey was figuring this out. Well, he was hanging out with Alice and Bendy. Boris was in the Music Room.

“This is the worst.” Wally groaned. He was currently hiding under a blanket on the couch in Bendy’s office. His tail was poking out from under the blanket, flicking about like an upset cat.

“Hey, it could be worse,” Bendy said with a shrug. “You could have that whole sex thing goin’ on.” That would have been an utter nightmare.

“If it makes you feel better, the horns and tail actually do make you look pretty cool.” Alice sat down beside Wally, patting the space between his wings. “If we got your hair out of your eyes, you might even look kind of sexy.”

“Really?” Wally’s head popped out from under the blanket.

“I dunno about that.” Bendy snorted. “I don’t think anything could make you sexy.”

“Oh hush, you’re just saying that because you’ve only ever seen him covered in dirt and ink.” Alice stuck out her tongue at Bendy. “I’m sure he cleans up rather well.”

Bendy stuck his tongue right back out at her.

“Maybe…” Wally’s eyes were narrowed in thought. “The last time I wore a suit was when I ten, though.”

“That’s more than enough reason to try again!” Alice clapped her hands together, her eyes shining. Bendy rolled his eyes. Of course Alice would be excited at the prospect of playing dress-up with an employee. Especially Wally.

“You’re seriously doing this?” Bendy asked as Alice ran to the corner and started digging through a trunk she kept for this express purpose.

“Who knows when I’ll get a chance like this again!” Alice said. Every other time she’d attempted this, Wally had somehow managed to get the outfit she’d picked out dirty or he just hadn’t had the time. Since he likely wasn’t going to be doing any work that day, this was the perfect opportunity.

Through the magic of toon logic and hammerspace, she managed to pull out a suit that was exactly Wally’s size. It was black and sleek, made of a shiny fabric that was far nicer than anything Wally had ever worn in his life.

By this point, he’d sat up and was looking rather confused.

“Wait, you’re actually gonna dress me up?” He asked. “Right now?”

“But of course!” Alice chirped. “Like I said, I’m not going to get a chance like this again!”

She pulled out a folding screen from hammerspace, draping the suit over the screen and gesturing excitedly for Wally to go change. Wally blinked, staring at the screen.

“I mean…You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Alice deflated a bit, her smile becoming sheepish. “I’m sorry. I got too excited.”

“No, uh, it’s okay.” Wally got up, gently laying the blanket on the couch. He stumbled over to the screen and took the suit down. Bendy and Alice could see him starting to change, his new features giving him a bit of trouble in undressing. 

“You probably just overloaded his brain.” Bendy supplied, shuffling some paperwork. “First the whole magic thing, now this. It’s probably a lot.”

“I guess I did go a little overboard.” Alice sighed, her halo’s glow dimming. “Oh, I shouldn’t have been so pushy.”

“Maybe.” Bendy shrugged. “But I’m sure he appreciated the faith in him.”

“I can still hear you guys,” Wally said from behind the screen. “Don’t talk like I’m not here.”

“Sorry~” Bendy said in his best innocent voice.

To Alice’s credit, she was right. Wally did clean up pretty nice. Still didn’t look sexy, but he looked rather good in the suit and with his hair brushed back. Alice made sure to take pictures. 

[themanicmagician]

Sweetheart - Chapter 1

Summary: Muffet repays Papyrus for saving a spider by giving him a special bar of chocolate. The secret family recipe keeps customers coming back for more. Papyrus uses it as an ingredient for his brother’s birthday cake, which leads to some...interesting...results. 

Papyrus’ breath mists out in front of him as he tromps through the snow. The Snowdin weather has taken a turn for the absolutely frigid during the past few days. Many of the Snowdin residents are waiting out the cold snap in their toasty homes, but there is no such luck for the sentries. The canine unit doesn’t seem all too bothered, their thick fur insulating them. Papyrus finds himself envious of their natural advantage; even with layered shirts, a scarf, and a puffy outercoat, his bones are still rattling in the cold. It’s a good thing he doesn’t have a nose; if he did, it would’ve fallen off from frostbite by now.

Still, Papyrus is a sentry-in-training. No matter the weather, it’s his duty to attend to the forest’s many puzzles. A little wind chill won’t stop a human, after all. But a puzzle might.

And thus Papyrus finds himself running checks over each and every puzzle set up throughout the forest. As he’d feared, nearly all of their joints and mechanisms are frozen, stiffly unresponsive. After hours of chiseling and brushing away snow, Papyrus’ own joints are feeling much the same.

He rallies as he approaches the final puzzle on his list, the tile puzzle. He’s looking forward to returning home, and watching some MTT on the television beneath a cozy blanket with the heating on full blast. Maybe Sans will even opt to join him, instead of heading off to that greasy bar.

Papyrus uses an old broom to brush the powdering of snow on the puzzle tiles. His vigorous sweeping staves off the worst of the chill in his bones, at the very least.

Once the tiles are cleared of snow to his satisfaction, Papyrus turns his attention to the activation mechanism. Its multitude of buttons jut out past its top, so snow has collected in tall lines atop each of them. Getting out his smaller brush, Papyrus gets to work removing the snow. As he works, he soon hears a faint squeaking noise. He pauses, but the noise persists.

Papyrus looks around. The forest is still. There’s no sign of anyone else around.

“Hello?” He calls out. Maybe they’re shy, and hiding. “Is someone there?”

The squeaking continues. Papyrus goes back to brushing off snow, when he notices a small black speck on one of the bottom buttons. He crouches down to get a better look. The cries are coming from an itty bitty spider. Papyrus isn’t too knowledgeable on spiders, but this one isn’t speaking the common monster language yet. They must be very young.

“What are you doing so far from home?” He wonders aloud.

Papyrus holds out his hand. The spider chitters to him, and scuttles up his arm. They nestle in the fold of his scarf.

Papyrus pats the folded fabric gently. He stares down at the small spider clinging to his scarf.

“Fret no longer, for the Great Papyrus will return you to your home. You will not become a spider-cicle on my watch, nyeh heh heh!”

Leaving his tools behind, he heads back to town at a brisk pace. Every few steps he glances down to make sure the spider is still hanging on.

Sans has mentioned several times that a colony of spiders lives near his hot dog station. Their queen, Muffet, had initially taken offense to Sans’ competing food market, and had tried to chase him off. She filled his condiment containers with cobwebs, and replaced his buns with moldy ones. But eventually she changed her tune to one of grudging toleration, when the other spiders took a liking too Sans’ hot dogs and cats. Now five or six spiders carry home food from his station daily.

“It is most impressive that you made it so far from your home on such tiny legs,” He says. The spider chirps agreeably.

While Papyrus carries the spider through Snowdin, he keeps up a steady stream of conversation to make sure the spider remains awake and alert. They reach the River Person soon enough, and then they’re off to Hotland.

“Tra la la,” The River Person sighs. “The piece of cake will not be a piece of cake.”

Papyrus, unsure of what they’re talking about, gives an agreeable hum anyway. The River Person’s  rambling reminds him—Sans’ birthday is fast approaching. His brother never seems to want anything in particular, but Papyrus has prepared several gifts that are sure to flummox him, fondly. But there’s one consequential detail he has yet to iron out, and that is the matter of the cake. He and Undyne have paused their pasta making for the past week, trying and failing to create the perfect birthday cake. Now he only has two days before Sans’ birthday. The cake that he makes with Undyne tomorrow will simply have to be perfect.

“We’ve arrived, tra la la…”

Speedy as ever! Papyrus thanks the River Person and steps off the ferry. It soon disappears back down the river.

Hotland lives up to its name; beneath all these layers, Papyrus is sweltering. He shrugs off his heavy outercoat, and ties it around his waist. He rolls up the sleeves of his multiple sweaters to his elbows. That’s the best he can do for now.

Following signs and directions from helpful passersby’s, Papyrus navigates his way through Hotland. The magma has an awful sulfur stench, truly terrible. How can anyone stand to live here? That’s not even including the overabundance of atrocious puzzles.

The only silver lining is that the warm weather has perked up his spider friend; they chirp almost nonstop as Papyrus continues on.

They pass by Sans’ hot dog station. A small “out to lunch” sign is placed on the counter.

“That lazybones,” Papyrus mutters. He might be getting older, but that is no excuse to slack off!

Further on, there is another food stand, but the tiered trays sit empty. Evidently Muffet has not set up shop today.

As he continues on, the natural brightness of Hotland begins to dim. The muted light catches on glittering spider webs.

“Wowie,” Papyrus breathes. The webs are enormous and intricate, like a giantess’ doily pattern. Some webs have pastries and other items cocooned up in them.

There’s some webbing on the ground that sticks to his boots. It takes surprising effort to yank them free and continue deeper into the spider nest.

“Ms. Muffet?” Papyrus calls. “Are you here?”

He hears the low whispers of spiders, hears a herd of tiny legs scuttle across the floor.

Papyrus jerks to a stop. Gummy webbing has stuck him fast yet again. He tries to pull his boots free, but is unable to escape the supremely sticky web.

Thousands of spiders converge upon him. He doesn’t have time to react; within a split second they have him bound tight in a firm cocoon.

“N-Nyeh?!”

He tries to wiggle free, to no avail. He summons a bone construct, but the webbing must be enchanted, because he can’t cut himself free. Oh dear.

On a trio of glittering strings, Muffet descends from above. She grabs him by the chin, lifting his face to look him over.

“And who are you to walk so brazenly into my territory, dearie?” Her smile shows her fangs.

“W-Well, I’m—”

The spider in his scarf squeaks. Muffet’s eight eyes widen in surprise. She scoops the spider into her hands.

“Claudette! You had us all terribly worried. Don’t you ever run off again!”

The spider chatters back to her. As they speak, Papyrus becomes aware of an itch in his cheekbone that his position does not allow him to scratch. Still, it’d be rude to interrupt, so he waits patiently and does his best to ignore it.

Muffet’s hands flash purple for a moment, and then she sets the spider down. It scampers off to join the cluster of small arachnids.

“Claudette has informed me of your deed. You have our gratitude.”

Papyrus straightens as well as he can, considering his restricted movement.

“Just performing my duty as sentry-in-training, Ms. Muffet!”

“It’s just Muffet for you, dearie.” She grabs a string on his cocoon, and gives it a sharp tug. The cocoon unravels instantly, falling in coils of spider silk to the ground. “Sit with me a moment.”

A horde of spiders brings forth two antique purple chairs, and an elegant table. As Papyrus takes his seat across from Muffet, more spiders crawl forth, placing a tray of chocolate-dipped shortbread cookies on the table. Strings lower down a teapot, as well as two cups in their saucers. A dish with sugar cubes is scooted onto the table as well.

Papyrus marvels at the sheet coordination required for such efficiency as Muffet pours them both piping hot cups of tea.

“Claudette had overheard the older spiders discussing those of our clan still trapped in the old Ruins, you see.” Muffet plunks two sugar cubes in her tea before taking a sip. “But Snowdin is far too cold for our kind to travel through. She is truly fortunate you arrived when you did. A few hours more and she would have perished.”

“The Great Papyrus is always happy to help.” When’s the last time someone besides Sans praised him so openly? Muffet’s words send a pleasant pulse through his soul.

Muffet nudges the cookie tray towards him. Aside from the occasional milkshake at Grillby’s, Papyrus isn’t much of a sweets connoisseur. For the sake of politeness, he grabs a cookie.

He takes a bite, and nearly moans at how delicious it is. The shortbread is flaky, surprisingly fluffy. The chocolate melts in his mouth, and when he swallows it, warmth spreads through his entire body.

He shivers. “These cookies are amazing!”

He soon finds himself reaching for another, craving more of that smooth, creamy chocolate.

Muffet chuckles. “I’m glad you like them.”

Papyrus is struck with a sudden thought. He swallows down his current mouthful.

“Do you bake cakes as well?”

“Of course. Cakes, donuts, cupcakes, scones…there is no confection I haven’t dabbled in.”

Papyrus explains the situation with his brother’s impending birthday, and his current lack of an acceptable cake.

Muffet traces her pinky around the rim of her cup, while another hand drums thoughtfully on the table. “Normally I wouldn’t share this with anyone. But you’re not just anyone, dearie. I can help you this much.”

Muffet disappears for a moment, long enough for Papyrus to polish off another cookie. He’s licking the chocolate from his phalanges when Muffet returns, holding a bar of chocolate wrapped in purple foil.

“For generations, my kind have made sweets with this chocolate. Our family recipe has special secret ingredients to ensure customers always come back for more.”

Muffet hands him the bar.

“Place one square of this bar into the batter of your brother’s birthday cake. No matter the appearance or additional ingredients, it will simply be the most delicious cake he’s ever eaten.”

“W-Wowie! Thank you, Muffet!”

Papyrus’ cellphone buzzes. It’s Sans texting him, no doubt wondering where he is. It’s three hours past the end of his shift.

“Gadzooks, is that the time?” He flashes Muffet an apologetic look. “I have to go home now. But thank you for the chocolate!”

Muffet waves him on. “Of course. And remember, dearie: only one square of that bar per dessert.”

Papyrus nods in affirmation, and hurries back home.