#'oh just use blender' ITS SHIT HOW DOES ANYONE USE THIS

[sleepii-moth]

ive been downloading so much bullshit animation software desperate to find something as easy and simple as csps animation stuff and theres NOTHING and im just like WHY ON EARTH DOES CSP LIMIT FRAMES THATS MY ONLY PROBLEMMMMM JUST LET ME HAVE AS MANY FRAMES AS I WANT WITHOUT PAYING YOU 200 DOLLARS TO UPGRADE IM GONNA CRYYY

#'oh just use blender' ITS SHIT HOW DOES ANYONE USE THIS #'maybe just get opentoonz' THERES STUFF EVERYWHERE THAT TAKES UP THE WHOLE SCREEN!!! AND ITS SO COMPLICATED FOR NO REASONNNN #'krita-' BY FAR THE LAGGIEST ART PROGRAM IVE EVER USEDD #FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I JUST WANNA DRAW SILLY PICTURES THAT MOVE #WHY IS IT SO HARD TO FIND ANIMATION SOFTWARE THATS NOT 100000 DOLLARS OR NEEDLESSLY COMPLICATED OR JUST SHIT IN GENERAL

[lastwave]

do all the asks for dnd renfield i double dare you

DARE TAKEN.

1: How did you come up with your OCs name?

tha dracula special interest

2: Does your OC have a theme?

OH I JUST TALKED ABT THIS!! we decided that this piano of sigmas theme is very him

3: What is their Class?

SOULKNIFE ROGUE. he was going to be a college of whispers bard but then his charisma needed to be shit. also soulknife is cooler and directly tied to the dracula curse (haven't figured out the exact details)

4: What is their Race?

human. lol

5: Are they from a Module or a Homebrew?

the Heckna! module :)

6: What TTRPG are they from? (D&D, VTM, or something else?)

D&D!

7: Have you gotten to actively play them/introduce them to the story yet?

ive rped as him so ya!

8: What do they look like? (Do you have art of them? Are you open to fan art?)

ohh ok ok. so u know my dracula renfield design? that but he has multiple outfits and he dyes one half of his hair brown because he has trouble coming to terms with the fact hes old LOL

9: What is their personality like?

answered this bad boy

10: What’s their relationship with their parents like?

oughhhh god. ok. he has very mixed feelings on his birth parents. they did what was best to keep him safe as a kid but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt (see iliveinprocrastination's ask abt number 11 for context). he has had a lot of parental and mentorial figures in his life tho and i think he loves all of them. and misses them very deeply

11: Where did they grow up? Do they miss it? Would they ever go back if they could?

answered this one<3

12: Did they have any backstory adventures before joining the party? If not, what were they doing before they were introduced?

ehhhhhh? they werent really adventures but he did have an eventful life pre campaign due to being a traveling act (escape artist & contortionist)

13: What is their alignment? What would THEY say their alignment is? Does it matter to them?

answered this bad boy too

14: Are there any secrets to their backstory you know, but they don’t know yet? (Secret parentage perhaps?)

not that i know of. unless the dm has plans i dont know abt

15: Do they have a favorite food?

onion soup 👍

16: Least favorite food?

gooseberries

17: What means the most to them? (Not a person)

BAILEY HIS MEXICAN REDLEG TARANTULA FRIEND

18: Who means the most to them?

hrm. thats a good question. i dont know<3 out of living people probably elaine? first long-ish friendship in a WHILE.

19: Do they hate anything? (Not a person)

gooey textures ?

20: Do they hate anyone?

dracula LOL. he Will hate heckna later but he hasnt gotten there yet

21: Are they currently in a romance? (NPC or PC)

this man is ace/aro (probably more greyromantic but yanno. under the umbrella) so no

22: Do they have any romance in their backstory? If it ended, how did it end?

midlife crisis where he tried to convince himself he enjoyed dating and hookups

23: Do they have a favorite school of magic?

he does not know that humans can do magic yet

24: Least favorite school of magic?

see above

25: Have they ever lost someone important to them?

yea. sorry for putting u in the blender old man its for the themes and motifs and plot

26: If you had the choice, would you rather they have a happy ending, a bittersweet ending, or a tragic ending?

HAPPY. LET HIM REST MY GOD.

27: Are they a liar? Do they lie to the party, or only to others? Do they usually think they have a good reason?

liar is a strong word. he will if he feels its in his vested interest in survival to. hes not a good liar, but hes very good at avoiding truths.

28: What’s the worst thing they’ve ever done? How do they feel about it?

he used to be like. really mean when he was younger in the whole. scaring people department. he probably did a pretty mean spirited joke on someone that didn't end well. i think he feels bad about it.

29: What’s the best thing they’ve ever done? How do they feel about it?

oughhhhh u know? whatever good hes done for other people i dont think he recognizes it because for the longest time he was never able to see the results. im gonna have to think abt this one

30: Who is their favorite NPC? Or PC if they’re an NPC?

bailey counts as an npc right

31: Least favorite NPC? Or PC if they’re an NPC?

unknown at the moment but it will prooobably be heckna

32: If they suddenly lost their class and had to pick a new one, what would they choose? What would YOU choose for them?

he would choose ranger probably. id choose abberrant mind sorcerer because it fucks

33: If they played the TTRPG they’re from, what would they play as?

FIRBOLG CIRCLE OF DREAMS DRUID NAMED FREYA W/ THE FEYLOST BACKGROUND

34: What is their biggest flaw?

answered this and the next one

35: What do they think their biggest flaw is?

see above

36: What is the best thing about them?

he cares a lot for the people around him. he doesn't make it known verbally but u can tell by his actions

37: What do they think the best thing about them is?

he thinks hes soooo funny

38: What would happen if they suddenly appeared on Earth?

he would simply go back to sleep because it would be a dream 2 him

39: If they suddenly appeared on Earth, what time period would you place them in? What location? Why?

victorian era london. puts him back in his habitat

skipping 40 because idk ❤️

[yaku-soba]

all roads lead home

༶•┈┈ general m.list 

༶•┈┈ tsukishima kei x gn!reader | angst with a hopeful ending :”)

tags/warnings: language, childhood friends, they’re exes but it gets better i promise, almost all the karasuno boys stay on in miyagi

word count: 3.7k

a/n: the edited version of an old fic i wrote for a followers event on my old blog :”) the prompt was i’ll name this city after you :D i hope yall enjoy this!! 

synopsis: You want (an apology, an explanation) to forget, and to get on the next train back to Tokyo, never mind that this is your first time visiting Miyagi in two years. Tsukishima wants to quit his shitty job as an overworked barista (at your favourite cafe, as if the night shifts weren’t tormenting enough). Tadashi just wants the three of you to have lunch together again. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

The sun is setting when you step off the train and onto a platform that you haven’t laid your eyes on in nearly two years. 

(It’s been a lifetime.)

The vending machine that you used to rap your knuckles against in the hopes of knocking free an extra drink is still in the corner, as dirty and forlorn as you remember. It’s oddly reassuring - in a liminal, jarring sort of way - like you’ve stepped off the train and into the past, like you’re eighteen again.  

“Y/n!” Tadashi looks much the same as he had when you’d graduated high school - smile maybe a little brighter, hands a little larger. Heart still as huge as it had been when you’d left. 

He holds his arms out and you jump, throwing yours around his neck. Tadashi wheezes at the sudden weight, and you laugh as his hands wrap around your waist to crush you to him by the small of your back, barely managing to keep the both of you upright.

“It’s nice to see you again, Y/n.” He smiles earnestly, and you let go of his shoulders to pull at his cheeks, cooing. “Hey, stop that,” he whines, and when you refuse, he eyes you warningly, “I’ll drop you!”

You stick your tongue out at him childishly, but relent. He sets you back on the ground gently, and you turn back to pick up the bag you’d dropped. 

“Come on,” he says, “let’s go home.”

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

The peace doesn’t last. 

You really should have known, with the way Tadashi has been sneaking glances at you on the way out of the station. You’ve known him long enough to know what that expression means - he looks at you like he has something to say, but isn’t sure if he should, and that’s perfectly fine with you. 

You’re starting to think you just might make it all the way home when a corner of the night sky chips and falls away, cracking right down the middle as your best friend says softly, “You should go home.” 

You freeze. You know, instantly, what - who - he’s talking about. 

The betrayal stings the back of your throat like bile. 

You look away, fixing your eyes angrily - you can’t help it, Tadashi knows that you hate talking about this, about him, but he’d asked anyway - on the dried leaf skittering across the abandoned playground, at the mercy of the wind. 

“I am home,” you point out uncooperatively, feeling childish, “that’s why I’m back in this shithole.”

“That’s not what I meant,” your best friend says into the night air, still in that annoyingly gentle way of his that makes you want to scream into the empty streets of this empty town. You wait, an open heart raw in the world, but he says nothing more. 

(Two years later, and Tadashi still reads you as easily as he had when the two of you were six and tracing the lines on your palms. Dancing on the edge of a cliff but stopping just short of falling over.)

“Y/n?” Shit, of course you’d wander into him on your first night back, the universe has a personal vendetta against you, how could you have forgotten. 

Next to you, Tadashi has gone very, very silent. And still. A little like a mouse stuck between a cat and a snake; relieved to have been momentarily saved from the clutches of one, newly worried about both, and too afraid of drawing attention to run away. 

You’d laugh, if it weren’t for the rage rising in the back of your throat like bile, jagged like a broken promise. 

“Y/n,” the bastard behind you repeats, and the sound of your name leaving his tongue is nothing short of heartbreak, “I didn’t know you were back.”

Slowly, you turn. Tsukishima looks just as you remember - stupid glasses on a stupid face, his hair longer but no less beautiful. As aggravating as he is breathtaking. 

(Something in your chest - no, not your heart - aches. You reach down and crush it between your fingers the way you used to crumple the torn pages of your notebook into little balls, to throw them at Tadashi, or-)

“Tsukishima,” your voice is even, good, “I don’t see why it’s any of your business.” 

He flinches, a minute action you would have missed if you didn’t already know him better than the old callouses on your palm. Good, you think again more vindictively - except his eyes are widening just slightly in shock, two gold pools like shadowed streetlamps, and suddenly you’re eighteen again.

You’re eighteen, and in love, and you’re blind enough to say, I would do anything for you, I would scrape my knees on metaphorical sidewalks everyday for the rest of my life if I had to, just to make you smile. 

You’re eighteen, and you’re foolish enough to think, I would give you the world if you asked, surely you’d let me have your heart; your tiny hometown, your little safehouse. 

You're eighteen, and you’re in love - and then you realize he’s not, not the way you are, and you fall on your empty sidewalks because it hurts and it tears you apart, but most of all you hate that you still care. 

You hated being eighteen.

“If that’s all you wanted to say,” you continue coldly, “I’m leaving.”

You turn on your heel, avoiding Tadashi’s eyes. You won’t make him choose - you can’t do that to him.

Tsukishima says nothing as you stalk away down the empty streets and towards the house you grew up in. 

(Somehow, you’re disappointed.

You tell yourself it’s because it’s been a long day.)

“Y/n, wait!” Tadashi calls, and you lengthen your strides angrily even as you hear him puffing up the slight incline behind you. “Y/n!”

“What,” you hiss, stopping short. You don’t turn - you don’t want to check if Tsukishima’s still there. 

(You’ve seen enough of his back to last you a lifetime.)

“Are you okay?” Your best friend asks, and you look at him in disbelief.

“I thought you were on his side,” you say dumbly, before realizing that that’s a road that leads to ugly places. 

“I’m not on anyone’s side,” Tadashi says diplomatically before you can try to apologize, “I just want us - the three of us - to have lunch together again.”

You scoff, and start walking, adjusting your bag. “Sure, I’ll text Hinata, I’m sure he won’t mind as long as we agree to volleyball practice with him first.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Tadashi says for the second time tonight, this time with a hint of frustration, “and you know it.”

“I do,” you acknowledge, “the same way you know that I want nothing to do with the four-eyed bastard.”

“You liked his glasses,” he tells you indignantly, catching up with you easily, “you used to steal them-”

“Liked, used to,” you snarl as the taut string of your patience finally snaps, “as in past tense. Leave if you’re just going to torment me. We both know I’ll get enough of it once I’m back home.”

Tadashi falls silent at that. A small part of you feels guilty, till you remember that it’s not your fault that he’d chosen to drag up old, unpleasant memories from beyond the grave, where you’d buried them. 

“Do you want me to stay for dinner?” He asks finally. An olive branch. 

You throw him a tense smile. “If you’d like.”

“Okay,” he breathes, and it’s like you’re looking at six year-old Tadashi again - young, painfully innocent, apologetic. “Okay, I’d like to. It’s been two years, after all.”

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

(You still think of him.

You could be baking in your kitchen in your apartment in Tokyo and all you can see is the curling steam of buns he bought at Sakanoshita store after practice. You could be walking past an electronics store and you’d find yourself looking at the TV screens, half-wondering if they replay the matches from a no-name high school in a far-away part of Japan.

They never do. 

It doesn’t stop you from seeing in your mind’s eye the surge of a block, the curve of taped fingers.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

Because the universe hates you, you run into Tsukishima again, just a day into your brief return to Miyagi.

Walking through the glass doors of what had once been your favourite cafe and not paying attention to anything beyond one feet of you as you text Hinata that you’re there early, you don’t immediately notice that the barista has frozen in place. 

You look up.

Tsukishima is staring at you, a carton of milk in one hand, the other resting on the blender. Even against the battered machine, his fingers are painfully elegant. 

(Bandaged fingers against red and green and white. Pale fingers entwined with your own. A flash of memory, too painful to be anything but a curse.)

“Y/n?” He says, and it’s too much, it sounds so much like the way he’d said your name when you were seventeen, when you were eighteen, that your heart stutters and does a few flips on its way up your throat. A bad habit you never quite managed to get rid of. 

You turn around, and walk back the way you’d came. 

The bell tinkles mockingly as the door swings shut behind you. 

“Y/n?” You flinch, but it’s just Hinata. “I knew it! It really is you, Y/n!” Hinata, bless him, beams. Then, as his eyes fall to your white-knuckled grip on your phone, he asks, “Is something wrong?”

Nothing, you want to say, let’s go for brunch, shall we? Instead, what comes out is, “You didn’t tell me he worked here.” It ends up sounding a tad accusatory. You only regret it a little. 

“Oh, Tsukishima?” He asks casually, and you barely resist the urge to flinch at the name, “Sorry, I forgot.” He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, and - it looks genuine. Hinata’s a terrible liar; you’d know if he was pulling a fast one on you. 

You sigh. It’s not even eleven in the morning, and you want to go home. “It’s fine,” you reassure him, even though it’s very much not, “let’s just find somewhere else to eat.”

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

“Do you have to leave?” He’s leaning against the door to your room, but there’s no relaxation in his posture. With his arms crossed and his brows furrowed, his face shut like a window screen, all Tsukishima looks is aggressive.

Something about the way he says have to, like it’s something unreasonable and selfish that you can’t let go of, grates on your nerves.

(Sometimes, when Tsukishima gets like this, he makes you feel small. More childish than child-like.)

“It’s a good opportunity for me,” you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve said those six words, in that order, “and it’s a scholarship, too.” You can’t quite keep the irritation out of your voice. 

This is good for you, why can’t he just see that?

“Oh, so you’re one of those,” your boyfriend says, and there’s something ugly in his sneer that has you recoiling, “just going to-to up and leave, aren’t you? Build a new life for yourself in the fancy city now that you’re too good for this nowhere town in a no-name prefecture?”

You frown, properly frustrated now. “I’m not severing ties,” you say, “I know being in different prefectures will be tough, but it’s something that we can work around.” 

You hate that it almost sounds like you’re pleading. You shouldn’t have to. 

“We’re still in the same country - it’ll be easier to visit and call each other, with no time-zone differences in the way.”

Tsukishima laughs. It’s as sharp as the broken glass of a shattered photo frame. “Yeah, like I don’t know how these stories go.”

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

Tsukishima sighs as eight p.m finally hits and he can turn the open sign on the door to closed. 

He goes through the routine that comes with working the last shift mindlessly - wiping down the tables and counters, pushing the chairs back into their neat places. 

(He wonders how long you’ll be in Miyagi.)

The trash bag crinkles as he ties it up, dragging it behind him to the back door. 

He’s only just hefted it into the dumpster specifically for un-recyclables when someone punches him in the face. Hard.

His glasses go flying, his annoyance skyrockets, and he barks, “What the hell?”

“I should be saying that!” His assaulter yells right back at him, “What the heck, Tsukishima?”

At the familiar voice, he stops, a retort on his tongue. 

Tsukishima squints, and the person who’d punched him shifts, hair glowing orange in the flickering light of a half-dead streetlamp. 

Ah, it’s the annoying, tiny boy. 

“What do you want,” Tsukishima says as flatly as he can muster, even as his stomach sinks and he knows, he knows what Hinata is here to talk about. “Hinata.” 

Hinata only grows more upset. Then he squares his shoulders and says, cold and unforgiving, “You didn’t tell Y/n.”

Tsukishima’s blood freezes in his veins. Suddenly, it’s the last set and the last point against Shiratorizawa, and the air is so thick and the eyes so cutting that he can’t move. 

“You didn’t apologize.” Hinata steps forward till they’re chest-to-chest, and Tsukishima doesn’t need his glasses to know that Hinata’s eyes are accusatory and angry. “Y/n came back and you still didn’t apologize.” 

I know, he thinks, I know I fucked up. Tsukishima isn’t dumb; even if Hinata hadn’t said it, he knows he should have gone after you last night. 

(He should have gone after you two years ago.)

He thinks Hinata already knows what he’s feeling. It’s not a pleasant thought. 

Tsukishima deals with this the only way he knows how, even as a voice that sounds like yours, small and heartbroken, says, don’t do it, not again. 

“It’s not your business,” he snaps, tone disdainful enough to cover his regret, and it reminds him of your words; it sinks into his flesh like a knife cutting into pliant bread, it tugs him apart like a million tiny hooks, “don’t stick your nose into things you don’t understand.”

“I understand enough,” Hinata hisses right back, “to know that you hurt Y/n and that you never bothered to apologize.” 

He pauses before going in for the kill. “And I know that you know that Y/n knows that it was complete bullshit. All you’ve managed to do is hurt the both of you.” Cocking his head slightly, he adds, the edge to his voice mostly gone, “And Tadashi-kun. All of us, really.”

Tsukishima opens his mouth to argue, but - he doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know what he can say, because nothing Hinata has said is wrong. 

It’s not surprising - Tsukishima has known all of this for a very long time. He’d been deliberately ignoring it in the hopes that it would gather dust and fade into some distant corner of his mind. 

I’m just as much of a coward as I was two years ago, he thinks, and he still remembers the way your tears had caught the sun that terrible day in your bedroom, he remembers turning away so he didn’t have to look at the promise he’d broken. 

Hinata sighs, and trudges in the direction Tsukishima’s glasses had flown in, bending to rummage about on the ground. 

Tsukishima takes this brief moment of quiet to get his feelings under control before his body decides to do something uncooperative and ridiculous. Like leaking tears.

“Don’t break things you don’t intend to fix,” Hinata says into the silence as he hands Tsukishima his glasses. The barbed words he’d been trying to find die on his tongue. He slips his glasses on just to have something to do with his hands, and immediately wishes he’d just stayed half-blind instead.

Hinata’s eyes aren’t angry, or even disgusted. They’re disappointed, and that makes everything so much worse. 

Tsukishima loses control of his body. He opens his mouth, closes it. 

What could he even say? It’s not Hinata that he owes an apology to. 

“Thanks,” he says instead. Hinata nods and smiles. 

(“Y/n misses you,” Hinata says later, as they’re walking down the street. He offers no elaboration, but it’s enough.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

“I’m sorry,” Tadashi says as the last whistle for your train blows and Tsukishima still isn’t here, “you know how Tsukki is on the weekends, he might have slept in-”

“Till four in the afternoon?” You raise a brow. Tadashi’s mouth snaps shut, his face stuttering, and you sigh. He shouldn’t be apologizing. 

“It’s fine,” you say, as you step onto the train. You take your heart into your hands and rip it apart like a party favour. 

Tadashi, and the rest of the Karasuno team, waves at you long after the doors have shut and the train departed. 

You watch them through the window till they fade into shadows into specks into sky, and you know that you won’t be coming back for a long time. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

You’re only in Miyagi for the weekend. 

It’s been nice, seeing everyone again. You’d even had dinner with the rest of the team. 

(Tsukishima hadn’t been there.)

But the weekend has come to a close, and now it’s just you and Tadashi on the platform again. You experience a dizzying sense of deja vu. 

“Will you visit again?” Your best friend asks, and you tear your gaze from the tracks to meet his eyes. 

(You know what Tadashi is really asking.)

“Maybe,” you answer after a pause, “you’re my friend, after all. And I won’t put it past Hinata to get lost in Tokyo.”

Tadashi smiles in understanding. 

You feel terrible. All you’ve been giving him is compromises. 

“I’m sorry,” you say finally, glancing to the old vending machine on the opposite platform out of habit, “but I just-”

“He misses you,” Tadashi cuts in, “and I think he wants to apologize.”

His words take you aback. Then, “He wants to apologize,” you repeat, and it’s like you’re eighteen again, “but Tsukishima’s too proud for it, isn’t he?” 

“Tsukki’s changed,” Tadashi mumbles, “maybe next time-”

“Y/n!” The both of you turn at the voice.

The breath rushes out of your lungs. A boy with hair like sunlight and eyes like gold coins catches his, bent over with his hands on his knees, a glowing figure in the middle of a dreary platform.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

For you, Tsukishima has always been synonymous with Miyagi. 

Miyagi with the pork buns, with the school full of crows. The prefecture with the hills and the mountains, the small stores and marts run by ex-volleyball players. 

Miyagi, your hometown, where the sky above and the grass below and the people beside you had witnessed you asking a boy for the second button of his gakuran at graduation. Your little safehouse of dreams dreamt of flight. 

Tsukishima was the boy with the gakuran whose second button you had wanted. He’d been the boy with the glasses you’d hated on anyone else but him, the boy who had dreamt of the endless blue with his feet still on the ground. 

He’s the boy you see in every empty, half-lit street at midnight, and behind every fading sign. The lamps in every lit house become his eyes, golden like the light of a possibly-dead star, and every window reflects the shine of his glasses. Like a haunting - a boy becomes a town becomes a memory. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

“What do you want?” You ask when it becomes clear that Tsukishima isn’t going to break the silence. “My train’s coming soon.”

(Tsukishima has always been Miyagi to you.

You don’t really want the train to come. Not when you’re finally about to get a goodbye two years overdue.)

“I’m sorry,” the boy with the glasses that you had liked, the boy with the gakuran whose second button you had held in your palm like he’d held your heart, says finally. “I was afraid.”

He doesn’t say what of. You already know, and for now, it’s enough that he’s here at all. 

“You were too proud,” you tell him softly, “I was willing to be afraid together.” 

This isn’t anything new either. Tsukishima isn’t dumb. He must have known.

“Did you regret it?” You ask as the train pulls into the station. 

The boy who is Miyagi to you smiles. “I’m glad you got the scholarship.” His eyes are bright. His hair is a little longer, now. 

You step forward as the last whistle blows in warning, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

You turn, getting onto the train with a backwards wave.

The doors close. 

The boy who is pork buns and dimly lit streets holds up a hand even as he fades into the distance, joined by a shorter silhouette. 

They get smaller and smaller until they’re shadows, then specks, then nothing but sky. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------«« 

For you, Miyagi has always been a boy.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been - there’s Tadashi, after all, and your senpais.

You tear your safehouse down brick by brick. You hand one to everyone you’ve ever talked to in Miyagi, to everyone you’ve ever loved. 

Tsukishima is joined by Tadashi, and the homeroom teacher who’d confiscated most of the balled-up notes passed between the three of you in class. You add Hinata, Tanaka, Nishinoya, Sugawara; you build a volleyball court and see crows in the sky. 

Miyagi is Tsukishima is Karasuno is volleyballs is the sting of skinned knees on dimly-lit streets. 

(Tsukishima’s contact is still saved in your phone. You had never been able to bring yourself to delete it.

You think about your next holiday break. You think about the extra shifts at your part-time job you’ll have to take in order to afford the train tickets.)

You miss Miyagi. You’re relieved that you’re allowed to admit to yourself that you miss Miyagi, now. 

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated!! :D

#haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuucreations #tsukishima kei #haikyuu!! #kyouka writes #see it all in bloom

[insomniamamma]

Late Bloomers: Ezra x F! Reader w/Cee

A/n: Set in the "Liminal" AU in which Ezra becomes his niece, Cee's legal guardian after a car accident kills his brother, Damon, and costs him his arm. Set sometime between "Ferris  Wheels Are For Old People" and "Surf City Goodness." Reader is Ezra's neighbor. Established relationship (sort of, IDK how to tag what they are). For @autumnleaves1991-blog​ and @clydesducktape​ Writer Wednesday.

Warnings: Not a whole lot. Kissing. Touching. A little spicier than I usually go, which isn't saying whole lot. A little language.  Cee, as usual, needs her own warning. Set during the pandemic shut down. Mentions of covid. Also, I feel like 'The Apple' needs it's own warning. I'll link the trailer at the end.

           "You sure you don't want to come with us, Birdie?" Cee sits at their scarred kitchen table, her laptop, textbooks and a pile of papers around her. She frowns.           "I gotta study," she says, "Ms Stewart is really serious about this quiz. She's not grading on a curve this time." Ezra narrows his eyes.           "You have never spent a Saturday night studying in your life," he says. Cee frowns up at him.           "You've never been in Ms. Stewart's physics class," says Cee, "She's a hard ass. Anyway, I'm still pulling an 'A' in her class, but I don't want to fuck up my average."           "Jesus, Cee," Ezra mutters, and you have to smile. She rolls her eyes.           "I know, I know--"           "Don't say 'fuck' at school," they say in unison.           "They're doing double features all summer," says Cee, "I can miss one. I've seen all these movies anyway." She smirks, "I want to hear what you think of 'The Apple.'" Ezra rummages around for his keys and Cee drops you the most exaggerated wink you've ever seen in your life.           "Have fun, guys," she says.

         Covid has nuked most of the things you used to do for fun, restaurants and shows, hell, even the libraries are closed. The only business in town that's thriving is the Star-City Drive In. There haven't been any big studio releases in a while, so they've been doing Fright Night Fridays and Sci-Fi Saturdays. Tonight's double feature is Flash Gordon and The Apple.          "They've got this weird way of operating the concession stand now," says Ezra, "Cause of the pandemic. You've gotta text them your order and I guess they bring it out to you--" Ezra's gotten pretty good at working his phone one-handed, but you can see the frustration clouding his face.          "Let me," you say, loading the menu onto your phone, "Let's get a big popcorn and share it. You okay with the fake butter?"          "Of course I'm okay with the fake butter, what kind of monster do you take me for?"          "How about candy?" You ask, scrolling through, "It's the usual suspects."          "Sno-caps," he says, "How about you?"          "I'm thinking Milk Duds," you say.          "Now that is an excellent way to lose a filling, Sunshine."          "Popcorn and Milk Duds together? Worth the risk," you say and text your order off to the concession stand. It's not quite dark yet, a reel of movie trivia that no one cares about shines ghost pale on the screen. Ez has got the radio tuned to pick up the sound, but there's not much to listen to yet so it's turned down low, background noise with the cicadas and birdsong. The big screen backs up against a farmer's field run wild and a dark stand of trees.          "Switch places with me," says Ezra, and gets out of the truck. He comes around to your side and opens the door for you.          "Why?"          "Indulge me," says Ezra, so you do as he asks and settle in to the driver's side. Ezra's truck has bench seats with vinyl that creaks and cushions that hiss slightly as you move around. There's a tap at the window and you hook your mask over your ears and crank it down, popcorn and candy and you already payed with your phone, but press some rumpled bills into their gloved hands.          "Why'd you want to switch places?" You ask around a mouthful of popcorn.          "Shhh," says Ezra, "The movie's starting."

         Flash Gordon is just as fun as you remember it being, majestic in its absurdity, a big love letter to all the terrible pulp sci-fi movies that came before, the two of you watch and snark and laugh and sing "Aaa-ahhh" whenever someone says Flash's name. We owe it to Queen, you say, and Ezra smiles big the way he does when something's caught him off guard, the way that crinkles his eyes and reveals his dimples, indeed we do. We owe it to Freddie Mercury.          At some point his arm finds it's way around your shoulders and you lean into him.          "So this is why you wanted to switch spots," you murmur. He raises his prosthetic arm, flickering movie light shining on the double hook at the end.          "Can't exactly get handsy with Mr. Claw, now can I?" He grins, "These hooks might be a little chilly."          "And pokey," you say, demonstrating with a dig to his ribs. The end credits are rolling.          "You ever seen this next movie?"          "The Apple?" He says, "No. Some sort of cult-movie thing. Cee made me promise not to IMDB it. She said I should go in with an open mind."          "Oh boy," you laugh.          "Right? Cee's tastes are all over the place. I suspect this will be either amazing  or terrible on a scale that recalibrates our internal gauge of what terrible is."          "You know she set us up, right?"          "Yeah," says Ezra, "Little Bird fancies herself quite the matchmaker."          "She winked at me." Ezra dimples.          "Did she now?"          "She looked like a cartoon," you laugh, "About as subtle as a ton of bricks." Ezra brays laughter and leans against you, squeezes you closer to him at the same time. He is beautiful when he laughs, all dimples and teeth eyes screwed shut in mirth and you take this opportunity to press a kiss against that tender place on his jaw where his beard refuses to grow. Ezra freezes, you feel his body go rigid against yours, and your first thought is to apologize, to pull back, and then he reaches for you, his broad, calloused palm cradling your face, drawing you to him, presses his lips to yours, a soft, reverent kiss that he does not fully withdraw from, his hand now resting on the nape of your neck, forehead pressed to yours, somehow more intimate than a kiss, this closeness, breathing each others exhalations, leaning against each other.          "Cee's not wrong," you say, "We're good together."          "We are, aren't we?" He gives your nape a gentle squeeze, and lets you go. The opening titles of The Apple flicker on screen and the music starts up.

         "Oh, Ezra, what the fuck did we just watch?"          "I don't know if 'watch' is the right word, Sunshine, we did not 'watch' The Apple. The Apple happened to us."          "I don't think I've ever understood Stockholm syndrome until now."          "I have been assaulted," says Ezra, "My civil rights have been violated."          "It's like..." You trail off, "It's like if someone took '1984', 'A Star Is Born' and 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show' and put them in a blender. I'm pretty sure this movie violates the Geneva conventions." Ezra laughs and so do you, leaning in to each other, giggles that become kisses, soft at first, but increasingly hungry, laced with need, your arms twine around his shoulders, his hand lingers at your side, toying with the hem of your shirt.          "S'okay, Ez," you say as he nips at your jaw and then your neck, gentle graze of teeth that makes you shiver, "You can touch me." He kisses you deep, his tongue fever-hot against yours, hand sliding up the soft slope of your belly, cupping your breast, and you arch into his touch--          Tap Tap Tap. And there's a bright light shining through the passenger's side window.          "Oh shit," says Ezra. You frantically yank your shirt back down, heat creeping up your neck, your cheeks, your earlobes flaming.          "Movie's over guys," says the shadowed figure behind the flashlight's glare, "Take it someplace else." You open the door to switch places back with Ezra, the overhead light shows him red faced and horrified.          "I'm sorry, I just--"          "Get us out of here, Ez."

         You stare out into the dark past the window, half-moon shining over fields and trees like a lazy eye. You snort laughter.          "What's so funny?"          "We got caught," you say, "We got caught necking at the drive-in like a couple of teenagers."          "You're laughing because we got caught?"          "I'm laughing because I've never made out with anyone at a drive-in, even when I was a teenager, and I'm laughing cause we got caught. After watching that trash-fire of a movie. We got caught making out over the end credits of 'The Apple'. I feel like we deserve some kind of award." You rest your hand on Ezra's leg, can just pick his smile in the dim lights from the dash. Ezra chuckles.          "I never made out with anyone at the drive in before tonight either," says Ezra.          "Bullshit," you say, and give him a good-natured poke.          "It's true," he says, "For one, I didn't have access to a car. I would've had to borrow Ma's car, and there was no way that was ever going to happen. Also, I was not what the girls back then referred to as 'dating material'. Skinny as a rake with a mouthful of braces and an obvious birthmark? I was like a puppy trying to grow into it's ears and feet, a late bloomer if you will." You move your hand higher up along his thigh and give him a squeeze.          "Better late than never."          "Indeed."

Flash Gordon Trailer

The Apple Trailer

#writer wednesday #ezra x f!reader #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra (prospect) x f!reader #ezra and cee

[kationella]

Antagonists ranked by their willingness to spare someone's life

I won't include Shido, two thirds of Strega or most of the Masked Circle and NWO members since they either didn't know about Personas or weren't the leaders of their organization.

1) Takuto Maruki

Has never killed anyone. Doesn't have the stomach to do it. True, he unintentionally enslaved humanity to live in his reality, but Dr. Snacks is the guy with the most morals on this list. You won't have anything to fear if you're left alone in a room with him. The most Maruki will do is try to solve your psychological issues.

Won't kill and frowns upon those who do.

2) Taro Namatame

He almost killed people, but his intentions were to save them. Unlike Dr. Glasses, Namatame is more open to the "blatant kidnapping" option. Even so, Namatame was in a very dark place in his life when he took that decision.

Won't kill on purpose.

3) Jun Kurosu

If it were only his Joker persona, he would be way lower. However, that was mostly Nyarly's influence and we're ranking antagonists in their natural habitats. Jun would rather torture using his Persona than kill someone (not that he has as only Jun). If you're an enemy he might reconsider.

Won't kill if his friends don't want him to.

4) Goro Akechi

Wow, Akechi! How does it feel to be one of the most decent people in the room? Akechi on his own only orchestrated Shido's death. Ever since he was taken out of the equation, Akechi hasn't killed anyone. Another thing would be that he is already conditionated to go for the kill.

Won't kill if Akira doesn't want him to.

5) Takahisa Kandori

We're nearing the "I don't give a shit what anyone else thinks" line. Kandori won't kill you if he can order someone else to do it. And even so, he would rather beat the shit out of someone to keep them silent. Huh. Less Lex Luthor and more Team Rocket Leader over here.

Won't kill if he has other options.

6) Tatsuzou Sudou

Place in a blender a shitty dad, politics, shady deals with the supernatural and a hint of madness. You get this asshole. Would kill you, his organization members, his son, and a newborn puppy if it gets him what he wants.

Would kill if you were on his way.

7) Shuji Ikutsuki

It seems like Kouetsu Kirijo was the one who called the shots. Ikutsuki would only think about murder if it served the greater scheme. Otherwise you will be left alone. Until you die in the Fall, which places him below Tatsuzou.

Would only kill if it helps to bring the Fall.

8) Ideo Hazama

Now here is a kid that loves his torture. Especially if its ironic. This baby emperor took "eye for an eye" way too seriously. Brownie points for only killing those that "deserved" it... which isn't much but still. What he wanted to do with the rest isn't clear.

Would only kill if you bullied him.

9) Tohru Adachi

Now, if Adachi had only killed Mayumi Yamano on accident, he would have been placed higher on this list. But he killed again knowing full well what would happen. His reaction to possible murders through the rest of the game is just ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Shadows will come to kill everyone? Lol XD In the end, it was the motivation that placed him below Hazama.

Would kill but only if you frustrated him and were really unlucky.

10) Takaya Sakaki

Do I need to explain myself? He literally kills for a living. His goal is to bring the Fall so everyone dies. Would only spare Jin and Chidori.

Would kill if someone asked him to.

11) Tatsuya Sudou

Oh, boy. A life of messed up adults, circumstances and choices have turned Sudou into a pyromaniac with a Persona of all things.

His first instinct was to kill you.

#persona 1 #persona 2 #persona 3 #persona 4 #persona 5 #shin megami tensei: if... #ideo hazama #takahisa kandori #tatsuya sudou #tatsuzou sudou #shuji ikutsuki #takaya sakaki #taro namatame #tohru adachi #goro akechi #takuto maruki #tw: death #tw: murder #headcanons

[mae-gi-writes]

Halloween Escapade | Jacob (The Boyz)

You and Jacob both dislike parties, so why not ditch it to get Mcdonald’s? 

Genre: fluff

A/N: I KNOW I’M ONE MONTH LATE FOR HALLOWEEN But I saved this in my drafts and forgot to post it. Nothing too intense, just a little cute Jacob. Enjoy <3 

-----

“You mind doing my makeup?" Looking up from your makeup palette, your heart does a little stutter at the sight of a dishevelled-looking Jacob decked in what seems to be a skeleton-themed shirt and pants. On the occasion of Halloween, the office had decided to close its doors early to celebrate. It was also a good excuse to order some good assortments of finger-picking foods and expensive cake. Being the artist that you were, you had brought along your entire makeup collection, ready to help out anyone in need of paint or decoration on their face.

But you had not expected Jacob, of all people, to be standing before you while shuffling his feet like a shy little schoolboy. He is obviously of a higher status than you are in the office, one of the Directors that has a certain percentage of shares, no doubt. You as a mere office worker that looked up to him in admiration, and had to admit that you had developed a little crush throughout the months of noticing his gentle and kind demeanour. "Uh--sure," you quickly stutter out before gesturing towards the seat, "you can sit here." He does so without complaint as you ask, "what kind of makeup do you want?" "Could you do a skull?" "Uhm--" that takes a long time, your brain screams out at you, "s--sure. No promises, though." "That's alright. The uglier the better anyway," he pauses, "not that your drawings are ugly, I--that's not what I meant." You chuckle softly signalling to him that it's all good. Opening up your palette and dabbing your sponge with white powder, you hesitate slightly before you start covering his face; his eyebrows, over his eyes, down the slope of his nose. He's gorgeous, you think to yourself while trying not to giggle at the thought of you two being so close in physical proximity. You hope that he can't hear the way your heart practically beats out of your chest, an excited hummingbird bursting out through your ribcage. "So...did you learn that yourself?" Jacob asks after a bout of silence. "Mostly. But I was always comfortable with painting and all that stuff," you start contouring his face with gray and silently appreciate the flawless texture of his skin, "I used to do makeup for halloween every year when I was still in school." "That's so cool. I wish I could paint like that," his eyes flutter open to momentarily gaze into your eyes, "the only thing I'm good at are numbers." "Well you know, I grew up wishing I was good at numbers." 'We always want something we can't have." "True," you start blending the black with the white, the makeup taking on a grey tone to create a shadow, "but if it makes you feel better, most people admire the ones who know their numbers well." "You sound like you know something about that." You just smile faintly, "I hope I don't sound too whiny. That wasn't my intention." "No, your honesty is...refreshing," he mumbles through closed lips as you brush over his face with the blender, "I mean, I don't really know how it feels because I'ver never faced this kind of problem. But I can understand how frustrating that might be, for people to judge someone based on their jobs." His compliment throws you off, so much so that you can't help the heat from spreading over your cheeks, "oh--uh, I hope that wasn't too rude. I wasn't trying to offend you or anything--" "No no, not offended," Jacob raises his hands in mock surrender, "I'd be frustrated too, in your place." His blunt sweetness makes your heart flutter and it makes you glad that his eyes are closed at this very moment, for it would've probably made you even more embarrassed to be looking at him face to face. Clearing your throat, you move to his eyes, applying soft dark smudges over his lids as he asks,"so, how do you find life here?" That's how it goes, with him sitting patiently and as still as a statue, and you painting the contours of his face while trying your best not to admire the beauty of the man sitting before you, a work of art you simply can't take your eyes off of. But the more you converse, the more you realize how much you have in common. And the result is astounding, to say the least. For starters, you would never have known that your superior hates socials the most, or that despite people at the office drinking their coffee black, Jacob prefers his coffee with lots of milk and sugar that is enough to cause him diabetes. Not that he's proud of it, mind you. It's not until someone coughs loudly behind Jacob that you realize he's been sitting there a lot longer than he's supposed to, jumping before quickly noticing the growing line of impatient people waiting for their makeup. "Oh sorry sorry!" He jumps up, as though startled he's stayed that long, "I'll leave you to it then, Y/N. Thank you so much for the makeup." "Oh no worries," your heart drops slightly at the thought that you'll never get the chance to talk to him like this again. But before you have time to dwell on that fact, another colleague is asking for a vampire kind of look. You lose sight of Jacob for most of the night, though small glimpses of his handsome figure is enough to entertain your little fantasy. You try not to feel so disheartened, knowing full well that there's not even a single strand of hope that he'll even look at you that way. Hell, he doesn' t even look at you. Stop being stupid, you tell yourself sharply. Nothing's never going to happen. He's probably already taken, idiot. "I'm going home," you mutter to your colleague as another song blasts through the stereo hall. The group protests but you shake your head and quietly slip out to leave all the noise behind, the night air welcoming you with its fresh chilly air. A soft sigh falls from your lips when you close your eyes for a brief moment. A car honks in the distance, you pay no mind. Let's go home, you think to yourself, body turning towards the subway station. You walk a few steps, only to hear another honk, closer this time. You stop and turn, a frown stitching your eyebrows together upon noticing a car pull up next to you. You're surprised to see Jacob's face greet you when the window rolls down. You blink at him. "Need a ride?" --------- That is how you find yourself sitting in Mcdonald's parking lot a few minutes later with warm food takeaways in your lap and the smell of fries wafting through the air, chatting with a man whom you'd deemed unapproachable for the past few months and realizing that there is so much more to what you see to him on a daily basis. You'd be lying to say that you don't feel your heart staggering every time he looks at you with those beautiful mahogany orbs that seem to hold galaxies. "I never used to celebrate Halloween," Jacob is saying as he pops a chip into his mouth, "my mother hates it, says it's useless to be celebrating an event that rouses the dead." "Technically, she's right." "Yeah, my five year old self didn't think so though." "You managed to celebrate in college?" He nods before pulling a face, "first and last time I drank till I puked." "That sounds fun," sarcasm drips from your voice before you laugh softly at the tongue he pulls out sat you. It's so easy to talk to him, too easy. It scares you, this foreign uninvited sensation of something fluttering through your ribcage as if you're constantly sitting on a swing that is going too fast for you. You talk about school, about where you come from, about how you sometimes miss your parents dearly and how hard it was at first, to be away from home for so long. And then he tells you about growing up, about his childhood dream of becoming a basketball player, one that broke the moment he realized it'd be much harder to actually get into the professional league. And then it quickly drifts to the troubles of life itself, to the nostalgia of losing friends when you grow up, to discussing multiple theories about what the future holds. "Woah, it's late," Your eyes widen in realization when you spot the time upon his dashboard. 3:30.a.m. "Oh," his own eyes go round, "shit I'm sorry. I didn't want to keep yo--" "No no, it's okay. I had fun," you smile softly at him while recalling yiur conversation, "I'm glad we got to talk." Relief breaks out as a sigh through of his lips, "that's good to know," his eyes find yours then, bathed in the reflection of the cheap streetlight hanging over your car, but you realise that it doesn't matter, for Jacob is ephemerally beautiful and carries that around with him wherever he goes. Your heart tugs when you realise that the night will have to end at some point, watching him pull out of the parking lot while asking you for directions to your house. The night started out with no expectations, with the sense that you can't breathe around the people you're surrounded with. Yet, this moment feels like a gust of oxygen bursting through your lungs. "Can I say something?" Jacob's voice pulls you out of your reverie as he turns onto your street, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. You hum for him to continue. He does after a few beats of hesitation. "You know you can talk to me, even if we're at the office," his murmur is so soft you barely catch it. You look at him in surprise, not expecting such words to fall from his lips. But the look he gives you is one that makes heat spread throughout your chest in parallel to the heat covering your cheeks. He continues, "I know that a lot of people are scared of me, because of what they think I might do considering my privileges. But take that title away and I'm just like everyone else." At this point, his vehicle wheels to a stop right before your front door and he turns his head so that your gazes clash, dark obsidian filled with a gentleness that you can't quite explain, though it causes your heartbeat to stutter. You gaze back though, trying to decipher the way his face softens and the tender way his lips are curved into a half-smile, as if you're sharing a private joke. "Well," you clear your throat, head whipping towards your door and hand finding the car handle, "I guess that's my stop." Biting your lip and debating whether to follow through with the aftermath of his words haunting your ears, you quickly turn back to him, "I don't think you're that kind of person. I don't think you could ever go behind someone's back just for the sheer fun of it," you see his gaze widen with surprise, "So don't worry about that." Jacob just stares at you in the pause that follows. You stare back, mentally debating whether you should just throw yourself out of the window for being so stupid or whether to ask the said man himself to run you over, so mortified at the prospect of having said such a thing that your orbs immediately drop to your lap. "I ...thank you," comes Jacob's whisper, "that...nobody has ever said that before." "A--Anyway, I should probably go--" you quickly scramble to open the car door only to be stopped by his hand swinging out to grab yours. "Wait," he says breathlessly, "I--Do you want to--you know maybe do this again? Sometime? I--" a shy smile dances across his lips, "I had fun, Y/N." Your heart swells. Your neck flushes with heat as your eyes drop to the ground, "I had fun too," you mumble, allowing his hand to slide down your arm until it reaches yours. His fingers, as soft as a dove's touch, gently twine around yours like vines and a breath catches in your throat. Jesus, he's perfect. "Yeah," your murmur, "I'd like to do this again." You don't want to look at him. You can't look at him, for you know that once you do there'll be no mistaking the blatant effect he has on you, and that is something you wish to keep to yourself a little longer. But that thought flies out of the window the moment you feel the softest of caresses upon your knuckles. Head shooting up to catch Jacob's lips skimming over the back of your head, a shiver runs through your spine the moment your eyes lock with all the feelings you've been attempting to cast aside for most of the night. "Great," he grins against your hand, "I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow?"

#jacob bae #jacob the boyz #the boyz jacob #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #jacob imagines #jacob bae imagines #jacob scenarios #jacob bae scenarios #jacob drabbles #jacob au #jacob fanfiction #the boyz imagine #the boyz fluff #the boyz soft hours #deobi drabbles #deobidrabbles #deobiwritersnet #deobiwritersnetwork #tbzwriters #tbzwritersnet #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #tbz fanfic #tbz imagine #fluff #halloween imagine #kpop imagine #kpop scenario #kpop fanfiction

[tripstaysnoided]

Flow Just Like Water

Story and writing-related transparency update and my many shames...

The Question on Everyone’s Mind

“Hey you haven’t updated No Stars over Uptown in almost a year...”

Hmm, I hate it when you’re right. (This section has been rewritten ad-nauseam to curb back the bitchiness by the way)

So back in early/mid 2018, the idea was to divorce Uptown from a person who influenced it (and myself) heavily. She was my most important audience member, the closest friend I ever had, and unfortunately someone who used her power to bully, ostracize, and hurt others with my help. I cut contact when the hurt + some self-awareness finally reached me. Apologies were made and I feel like my work will never be done with it, but there was still Uptown.

Between censored comments, entirely recasting Axel’s save, different plot threads, and a load of disclaimers, there was nothing that would scrub her influence from the story. There was no way to cleanly drop everything because of how deep her influence went. It disgusted me to look back at it, and I had to private the blog because I feared what it endorsed, even if just in the past.

I pulled back from that sims writing community. I had its main thread on the Official Forums removed too (I guess if that was a mystery to anyone). It was a surrender that I never wanted to do, but I had it in my mind that if I was gone, then she wouldn’t be there either. Uptown became this cursed item, and as I quietly retired it, I noticed that she went quieter too. Not gone, but enough to make me sleep easier at night and even occasionally say hello to old friends.

And I hope deep in my heart that no one else is getting hurt in my place, but now this is gonna haunt me all day huh!

The two paths forward...

1) Complete Uptown rewrite that I’ve been threatening everyone with all year. While it won’t ever be clean because I can’t undo time, I do have a sound outline for a story that is much more true to my actual vision and how I’ve evolved, with a few necessary boundaries in place that are going to be there for all stories moving forward: no more casting calls and no more collaborative efforts. I am not going to open myself up to this happening again, even if the people have changed.

2) Same as above, but I continue the original Uptown as a favor to loyal readers alongside the rewrite. I would try to put the effort into it that I initially did, but with no promises on an update schedule and no advertising. I did ask myself “is there Patreon but without pledging money, just the private posts function” but it could operate as part of a private forum, a members-only part of a website, etc.

Also readers of the original would be beholden to a rule of “don’t spoil the rewrite for new readers, c’mon guys”. I mean, not really, but it is a good courtesy to extend to people.

Priority on this isn’t high but you at least will see what is!

I will probably make the blog public again either way due to the many broken links on my Tumblr but we’ll see. There are other things to deal with as I shall list!

Where Life’s Been Regardless

Been spending more time with my grandpa every weekend. Life’s pretty good and he’s warming up to my dogs.

Shiny New Webbed Site

Cucumber Fields Forever is a site I own now. We have a full domain, cucumberfieldsforever.com, a blog with one post, and the framework needed to host stories the way I want to and still through WordPress. The functionality of likes, comments, and following should still be the same but you know...I’ll take feedback too...

The main blog still has an undefined purpose though I do have drafts sitting around about:

The maybe/maybe not hoax band that was on the Metal Archives and the history of Funeral Doom Metal.

The curious case of when Sims 4 babies get their genetics and my only collaboration (read: was talking about it with a friend and might quote her if needed, it’s actually a bit of a doozy)

Amazon.com’s fake dried udon noodles, an actual issue by the way.

Things I’m reading! (This’d be a monthly feature if so)

For the sake of unity, I am thinking of solutions for hosting old and shameful content there including Uptown and for the real fans in my followers feed, Eight Cicadas...a world I totally have plans for too (not really). I don’t want them to be front-and-center, and that’s why I mentioned forums/members-only content. I finally have that power! Maybe.

Ooooh but what are the costs? Not too much to handle, that’s what. 😉 (Like really, I don’t need any hand-wringing about this, I can manage my finances)

Project Queue (In Order of Confirmedness)

Outrun the Scythe: have you seen me post out-of-context Sims 3 pictures? Did you want more? Did you hope it was Linda in Custody? If the answers are yes, yes, and “meh, whatever you want”, then you’re in luck.

Outrun the Scythe is a Sims 3-based tale of a young gay man and his zombie grandma, as they are both offered separate roles of being the undying intermediaries between the world of humans and the influence of a race of space daemons. It’s pretty familiar if you’ve been following me pre-Uptown, taking some cues from stories I’ve kept under lock and key like Eight Cicadas, The Chains of Lyra, and the not-so-locked-up Ironstar Immortals (of which Outrun is just the direct sequel to sans any retconning...ah the smell of early 2013 and performative heterosexuality)

Ah, back to my roots.

It’s a hybrid of gameplay, story, and lore about my little race of daemons with a lot of my own idiosyncrasies that I’m not really ashamed of: basing it off a super-polarizing Sims 3 challenge from a site I moderate, using a lot of EA’s pre-made townies and their genes, lots of unnecessary posemaking, stupid references. It’s a comfort to have in my roster.

While the first few chapters are in the middle of revision, I have around six in the queue and will be making this public when I have ten. I’m guessing December then?

Undocumented Black Widow Challenge: I just did this for fun/forum kudos (yes, in fact I have joined many forums), there was going to be a short story but it was quickly becoming something against my code of ethics. I mean, sims die and all. (read: I had to choose between “heterosexual widow” and “widow with some same-sex marriages that still end in tragedy, reinforcing negative stereotypes to the public for the sake of me not getting bored and detached during gameplay” so there were no good choices. Except for her affair with the mailwoman, 10/10) I hope to finish this before October ends and get my medal on Boolprop, I’m pretty far through it all. I might upload the sims involved anyways. This is for TS4.

I mentioned it because it’s keeping me busy. But not for long!

NaNoWriMo 2020: Dipping my toes into that again! It’s not sims-related, just a tale of lesbians, nosy neighbors, a haunted beach house, and some light murder and kidnapping. And I actually got my brother to scout out locations for me this weekend. If there’s any demand, I can share chapters as the rough drafts are finished, especially for the sake of proofreading.

Not saying I’m publishable, but wouldn’t it be nice? Will keep me occupied for much of November.

Untitled “Dear Diary” Challenge: Tired of feeling left out of the fun on the Boolprop forums, their “Dear Diary” challenge was the one that appealed to me the most on first glance. Why? Probably once I found an idea that let it be set in the early/mid-2000′s to begin with and explore some interesting characters through diary entries (which I have mixed feelings on as a literary device but I think that’s just me saying “well I didn’t like Dracula”, yes you get bonus points for writing it like a diary)

Also writing is the one skill I’m good at across multiple games. Wanna hear me bitch about the cooking skill tree in TS4 or riding in TS3? I’ll spare you.

I guess I could have included “spending time on Boolprop with old and new friends” in where my life has been. It’s a nice lil community if also a place with its own idiosyncrasies as well. So it doesn’t feel like I’m promoting another community if/when I make a thread there for Outrun the Scythe, I want to have a couple chapters of this ready to go by Outrun’s release, though it’s not gonna be the highest priority compared to it nor as long because I think I can blast through the gameplay quickly.

This one will be played in TS4 due to it having the easiest writing skill/I dunno variety is the spice of life. And hopefully another December release.

Defunded or Forgotten?: Oh shit I actually released stuff in 2020 and told no one? I do have a “mortifying ordeal of being known” sinking feeling whenever I get a site hit because it’s not my best work (but good enough) and veered sharply into issues I may be over my head in, though I try to be a good noodle with research and listening. Maybe hiding is bad after all.

Being based off a very flawed and incomplete Sims 3 challenge I found in the annals of the Official Forums, there’s a lot of behind-the-scenes work just making sense of things. And I’m scared of working on reconstructing the house but I haven’t abandoned the project yet. The story has eight chapters so far and is pretty game-based with some additions here and there. Scared of how long it could be though!

Date for this unknown.

Untitled Sunlit Tides Decadynasty: another year-long abandoned TS3 project with a much stupider reason why. Last update was about Hua getting ready for her wedding, and I wanted to do some poses for a bait-and-switch wedding chapter because to put it mildly, her real one was an absolute disaster.

Blender decided to fuck up its interface again, I got discouraged (this probably does account for some of the Uptown delays too), and when I decided to plow forward, it was for other projects instead.

Meanwhile I played all the way to Gen 5′s teenhood and the only thing stopping me is time (it takes almost 30 minutes to load the file right now, though they’ll be looking at moving towns in a couple gens) and maybe fear of the Logic skill.

Date for this also unknown but it’s easy to pump out updates once I’m in the groove for it. My third heir had a difficult life so maybe I’m just trying to bury it.

Also I just noticed the view count there was really good and probably because I linked it here on Tumblr last year. Thank you so much guys. I can’t really fret over views on Carl’s forum these days thanks to the years-long death spiral pretty much every forum anywhere has been riding on. But it’s a nice surprise. And it’s an alright little challenge recap to read during your lunch break or whatever.

The Wawas

I figured I’d end on the real news everyone wants! Both the chihuahuas are a year and a half now and reached their adult size around a year ago. For the most part, they are happy and healthy dogs.

#state of the uwunion #long post

[itsme-autumn]

Artists Make The Best Lovers

Author: @itsme-autumn​ Pairing: William “Ironhead” Miller x Reader Warnings: swearing, smut Prompt: using Will as your nude model

“Will, I have to, it’s for my class.” You huff. He’s overreacting. 

“I don’t like it.”

You lay your head on the kitchen table, exasperated. “And What? You think I’m excited to stare at some random’s guy junk for a few hours? It is what it is. It’s art. It’s completely professional.”

Will’s jaw ticks. "You have no say in who? They just pair you with some perv?”

You perk your head up as an idea pops into your head. Will probably won’t like it much better. “No, actually. I can pick my model if I want. If I’m...” You look him up and down and bite your bottom lip. “...inspired.”

Will looks at you confused for about three seconds and then deadpans.

“No.”

“Come onnnn.” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“No way, Y/N.”

You sigh. “Okay. I guess I’ll give Enrico a call, I should ask him exactly how much charcoal I’ll need to bring...”

You go to grab your phone but Will snatches it before you can. You see his upper lip bulge out as his tongue moves across his teeth. He’s glaring at you while you try to keep your poker face.

You wait a beat then shoot him a winning grin. “It’ll be fine, babe. Maybe even fun!” You get up and go to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Up to you how you want to prepare your...area...but this will be seen by my entire class and potentially the other art classes, so you might want to trim a bit.”

You have to run to dodge Will’s hands from trying to grab you, barely making your escape out of the room.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Will has faced terrorists and open fire. Roadside bombs and plane crashes. He’s been shot. Almost died on more than one occasion and has had to survive in the wilderness for days on end.

And he’s never felt more uncomfortable than he is right now. Lying on his own couch. Naked.

Or he’s about to be naked anyway. Is it too late to call Enrico?

You’re busying yourself getting your supplies together. Setting out your charcoal, blenders, erasers. You adjust the lighting again for the third time. 

You’re more nervous than you thought you’d be. 

When you feel like there isn’t possibly anything else you need to do, you clear your throat, unsure how to get things started. “Okay..a-are you ready?”

Will slowly stands up and nods, hooking his fingers into his boxer briefs. You blush, and then blush harder at the fact that you’re blushing. What is wrong with me? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before! Get it together, Y/N.

For some reason, seeing him this way is effecting you differently. Maybe because it’s in a non-sexual setting–purely observational. And anyone with eyes can observe how handsome Will is. Every part of him. It’s unnerving. 

“Y/N?”

You realize that Will’s been talking to you, but you’ve been–understandably–distracted. “Hmm?”

Will smirks. “So...how do you want me?”

“Oh. Uh..just standing there, but tilt your head to the left a little and shift your right foot....” You can tell you’ve lost him by the way he’s looking at you. Laughing, you walk up to him to position him the way you need. 

You slowly trail your fingers down his arm–feeling his muscles, his fine hair, his veins–before placing it where you want. You do the same with the other arm. You kneel down in front of him, taking both hands around one knee and bending it just slightly to the side, then running your hands down his toned calf until you reach his foot and turn it. Since the other leg is fine where it is, you stand back up, sneaking in a quick kiss on his stomach on your way. You notice Will’s breathing has increased, but he hasn’t moved an inch from where you’ve placed him. You take his face in your hands and tilt it slightly, your fingers brushing through his beard. You reach up and fix a stray hair.

When you put your arms back down to your sides, the room is heavy with silence. 

Your nerves makes sense now. You’re not just nervous, you’re...intimidated. Here Will is in front of you. In all his glory.

His sweet, fine as hell, glory.

Your Will.

“You are so...beautiful, Will.” You breath out.

Will’s lips pull up slightly. “In general? Or are you referencing my dick specifically?”

You narrow your eyes, annoyed that he ruined the mood, is so pleased with himself, and that that was really funny. You reach forward and flick him just above his–apparently–most beautiful feature. He flinches so hard he almost falls over

“Jesus Christ, Y/N–”

“Stay still, babe.” You say sweetly as you return to your stool and begin your sketch. 

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

It requires a lot of charcoal to draw Will.

You find yourself learning new features, finding new scars, memorizing every line of muscle. You’ve gotten lost in him.

Will has gotten lost in you as well. He’s never seen you more focused, so immersed in something. You have charcoal smudges on your face and your hair fell out of its properly placed bun ages ago. Will can’t think of a time when you were more beautiful than you are right now. 

You put the nub of charcoal down and slide your stool back, taking a look at your work. “Okay. Done.” You let out a deep breath.

Will turns his neck, rolling it around to stretch. He walks over to you, peering around the easel. “Can I?” You hesitate, but nod. He looks at the sketch thoughtfully. 

Will’s eyebrows go up slightly. “Babe.” 

“...yeah?” 

Oh no. Does he hate it? Did I smudge the penis and now it looks weird?

"You’re amazing, you know that?” His voice is low and soft, you feel as if you’ve been caressed with the sweet sound alone.

Will pulls you in for a kiss. It’s lazy and slow, as if he has all the time in the world. His hands move down your body, tracing fingertips down your arms, then back up again until he just ghosts over your breasts. You feel his erection on your thigh. You take in your hand, softly pumping it a few times before Will breaks the kiss.

“Your lack of clothing at this point really isn’t fair, love.” Will growls out. He slips your shirt over your head, then bends down, kissing your stomach before peeling your leggings off as well. Will picks you up by your thighs and presses you into the wall behind you. You put your hands around his neck, pulling his lips to yours, smearing charcoal on his skin. His fingers graze beneath the elastic of your panties, pulling them to the side. 

The sounds of your ragged breaths echo in Will’s ear. Your soft moans hot against his skin, your lips graze against his shoulder, your desperate whimpers–they’re enough send him over the edge, his hands gently caress your inner thigh. “You are so fucking beautiful, Y/N.” 

His deep voice and hot breath tingling against your ear, the combination making you tremble while creating an undeniable ache you knew you couldn’t contain any longer. 

“Please, Will...” You plead breathlessly, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

A little whimper escapes as you feel Will move his hips, slowly easing his cock into you. Your body, needy and aching, slowly starts to grind against him urging him into you further. Completely taken in the moment you briefly open your eyes gazing down into Will’s. 

You stay lost in each other, moaning in pleasure as he drives into you, your body melting against Will’s. The concept of time leaves you, just about all concepts and thoughts leave you except for Will.

Will around you.

Will in front of you.

Will inside of you.

You’re never intimidated when you’re together like this. The two of you fit together like the cliche puzzle pieces from romance novels and love songs. 

His teeth are just grazing your neck as he pumps in and out of you, increasing his pace, anchoring you to the wall. You and him are all pants and little moans as you go higher and higher together. A tear escapes down your cheek, not from sadness but from the pure and raw emotion that you are giving each other.

Will sees the tear and wipes it away with his thumb, his eyes questioning if you’re okay. You answer by pulling him in for a searing kiss. He moves his thumb between you, pressing it to your clit. You cry out into his mouth and he presses harder and starts moving it side to side in the way that gets you every time.

Will’s movements become more erratic. “You close, baby?” He strains out.

You’re so close that you’re having trouble forming words. You just whimper and move your hips against Will’s cock inside of you and thumb against you, welcoming your climax.

When it hits, you cling to Will, the pleasure almost too much to bare. Will’s release follows close behind and you feel his warmth start to coat your inner thighs. You both stay still for a few minutes, needing to hold on to come down for your respective highs. 

When Will finally sets you on the ground, your legs are weak in the best way. You hear Will chuckle behind you. Turning to ask what’s so funny, you see a large group of charcoal smudges where your back was just pressed. 

“Do you think charcoal comes off of walls?” But Will’s face says that he doesn’t give a shit if it does or doesn’t.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Y/N: This smut wasn’t kind of hard to write for some reason?? I don’t know if I got the tone right that I was going for. Let me know what you think! 

Will Tag List: @calirindo​ @leapingoveroblivion​ @curly-minnie​ @melissataggart87​ @mrsjaxtellerfan​ @kitkat-589​ @soldierfirstclasszeldafair​ @captainfreecandyvan​ @lokilvrr​ @posiemax​

#william ironhead miller #triple frontier #Charlie Hunnam #fanfiction #smut #imagine #request #william ironhead miller imagine #william ironhead miller fanfiction #william ironhead miller x reader #william ironhead miller smut #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier smut #charlie hunnam imagine #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam smut #my posts #my imagines

[kittae]

Busan Beefcake

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader

Side characters: Min Yoongi

Summary: A drabble series where Taehyung is a successful artistic erotica actor but has to expand his areas of expertise in the rapidly evolving world of adult film. Lost and inexperienced in everything that doesn’t involve classy settings, flattering lighting and romantic scripts, he basically has to start from scratch to make it in the online porn community. As a highly demanded A-lister in that community, you take him under your wings (or better yet, between your legs).

Genre: Smut, fluff, a bit of comedy here and there. Maybe some angst, who knows.

words: 1335

A/N: A new rival enters the game!

« previous     —      next »

At nine thirty in the morning, the sun already gives you a heartfelt greeting by shining its rays down on you. You don’t greet it back, instead opting to hide behind your double sunglasses as you stumble out of your car with a disgruntled noise. If someone would ask you why you decided to drink so much the day before your first class, you wouldn’t have an answer for them. That ‘someone’ being Jey this morning, she’d made sure to make your life a living hell by making you a hangover smoothie –with the blender on the highest and loudest setting– at the ass crack of dawn. Just her way of paying you back for making her drag you home and up three flights of stairs while you clinged onto her like an outgrown koala.

To your surprise, you’re not the first one at the building this morning. A tall figure sporting blue hair and sunglasses,much like yours, awkwardly shuffles back and forth in front of the glass door, trying to peep in to see if there’s anyone inside. His colorful and richly patterned shirt could be considered cool and artsy if your head wasn’t feeling like it’s being split open by an axe. At the moment, his shirt offended you. Still, you’re strangely happy to see him– despite having to swallow down the bile rising up your throat every now and then. This is going to be such a long day.

“There’s usually no one inside this early, I got the key.” You rattle the bunch of keys hanging from your fluffy ball keychain to draw his attention. You instantly regret it, the metallic sound piercing through your eardrums and into your already pounding head.

“Oh,” Taehyung murmurs, caught slightly off guard by your voice but stepping aside to let you open the door, “ ‘morning, ____.”

You watch him adjust his sunglasses, yet miss the small smile you’ve seemed to have gotten used to in the short period of time you’d seen him. During the shoot yesterday, he was almost always smiling one way or another. Cocky, flirty, shy, sheepish,... He just seems really uncomfortable right now.

“Celebrated a little too hard yesterday?” You tease, trying to lighten up the mood and hopefully make him feel a bit more at ease.

“Ah, not really,” he softly chuckles, “I only hung out with Yoongi last night, I just really can’t drink… What about you?” He nods at your own sunglasses.

You snort as you push the door open and go to turn off the alarm, “Let’s just say I drank a little too well.”

Taehyung snickers at that, following you inside, “Is it selfish to be glad I’m not the only one feeling like a pile of shit today?”

“Not at all,” a smile finds its way back on your own lips as well, “better than suffering alone, for sure. You’re really early, by the way.”

Hesitating for a moment, he does that darned cute neck rubbing thing again as he mulls over his words. “Yoongi didn’t want to get up early this morning, so...I had to take the bus. I would’ve been late if I took the next one…”

You frown at that new piece of information. “Does Yoongi usually drive you?”

The red tips of his ears betray his embarrassment. “Yeah, except when it’s too early for him. I don’t have a driver’s license.”

“I see…”

A few moments pass in silence as you wait for the elevator to arrive.

“Are there going to be many other cursists today?” Taehyung decides to break the silence.

You purse your lips as you try to recall how many people applied for the seminar, “Not that many. It’s usually a group of around five to eight people, max. Why?”

“That’s still plenty,” he shrugs, “I just thought I was the only one struggling with the, uh, transition.”

That made you giggle, “No, not at all! Trust me, you’d be surprised if you knew how many actors have difficulties adjusting to the darker genres.”

Taehyung nods, face visibly more relaxed at your reassuring words.

“We’re here.” You announce when the elevator doors open on the fifth floor. He follows you into the hallway until you stop to open the reserved classroom with one of the keys on your bundle.

“Why did you do it? Make the change to this genre, I mean.” Taehyung asks after a few moments of thinking it over.

You smile as you let yourselves in, “You’re about to find out.”

Yoongi yawns while he shuffles his way towards the coffee machine, not even bothering to properly lift his feet and letting his slippers drag over the floor. With his robe left untied and a serious case of bed hair, it’s obvious he’s had a rough night taking care of his lightweight friend. Blinking the sleep from his heavy eyes, he adds an extra couple scoups of coffee in the machine. This morning calls for extra bitter bean juice.

He fishes his phone out of the deep pocket of his robe, meaning to send Taehyung a text, asking if he found the seminar building easily. Before he gets a chance to, though, he gets notified of a new article from an adult magazine he has a subscription with. As an adult movie actor’s manager, it’s always a good idea to keep up with the trends and monitor what’s happening in the industry. Upon seeing the headline, Yoongi all but breaks into a sweat.

★★★ Adult Life ★★★

Jeon ‘Busan Beefcake’ Jungkook: From Camboy Next Door To Your Next A-List Superstar.

He fervently taps the screen to open the notification as quickly as possible, teeth already nervously digging into his bottom lip when the article takes a few seconds to load.

‘You’ve heard it from us first: this fresh face will be all over the online platforms in no time. With his 22 years, eight inches, a body that’s been thoroughly looked after and an astounding amount of unbridled talent, he’s rapidly taking the adult film community by storm. Jeon Jungkook is bound to change the game, having decided to trade his modest background as a home amateur for a professional career as an adult film actor, producer and director. In just a week time, his first two projects ‘Pool Boy Pleasure’ (where a rich cougar wants him to do more than just clean her pool) and ‘Naughtitorium’ (where things get heated underneath the desks of a college auditorium) have gone viral and his name has been trending on twitter. Is it his youthful appearance, or just the raw but captivating style he wields? This extremely good-looking guy seems to be good at everything, many female viewers already nicknaming him their ‘Golden Boy’ as they subscribe to his channels and eagerly spend money to vote on what they’d like to see him do next. This is no flash in the pan, Jeon Jungkook is here to dominate the industry! Expect to see him all over your favorite platforms. We’re a fan!’

Yoongi swallows hard, remembering his own words. “We have to increase your online presence and we have to do it fast before some rookie with a good face and a 7 inch dick takes your place.”

This guy even has an 8 inch dick. It’s a fucking nightmare.

Yoongi squints his eyes at the photo attached to the article, a young and glowing stud with dark, long hair, showing off his juicy muscles and six-pack as he lies shirtless on a couch while smiling at the camera. His eyes look like they’re fucking sparkling or something. He has something irresistible over him. Cute, but powerful. And he knows how to direct and produce on top of acting? It’s a triple threat. ‘Golden Boy’ huh? Yoongi sighs and swipes the article away, going to the messaging app to text Taehyung like he initially meant to do.

‘Text me when the seminar is done, I’ll pick you up. I need to show you something.’

Heliotrope masterlist

#bts smut #bts #bts scenarios #taehyung smut #bts fanfiction #kim taehyung #kim taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenarios #v fanfic #v smut #bts v #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #pornstar!bts #bts au

[camillemontespan]

glimmers of hope [AU. drake walker]

A/N: I don’t know what this is. This is a sad angsty saaaad fic. I don’t know why I wrote it. Might delete later.  There is some fluff in this though. 

Warnings: If you’ve been affected by cancer, (SPOILER ALERT) you may not want to read this. I don’t want to upset anyone or make you feel uncomfortable. So, by all means, don’t read this if you get triggered. 

@moonlightgem7​ @ibldw-main​ @emichelle​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @katedrakeohd​

@argylemnwrites​ @flowerpowell​ @saivilo​ @rainbowsinthestorm​ @pug-bitch​ @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​ @sirbeepsalot​ @dcbbw​ @loveellamae​ @mskaneko​ @burnsoslow​ @drakesensworld​

*************************************************************************

Drake lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling but really looking up at nothing. He had lost track of time. How long had he been lying there? Five minutes? Half an hour? All morning?

Time had lost all meaning to him now. For Drake, there was now only a 'Before' and 'After.'

Before Camille.

After Camille.

He knew that nothing would ever be the same now that she was gone.

***************************

Olivia chopped a banana and popped the pieces into the blender. She was aware of her goddaughters who were sat at the kitchen island, watching her.

'Why are you making smoothies?' Luna asked, propping her chin onto her hand.

'Because your dad has never been introduced to fruit and vegetables and I'm not going to let you guys become weak,' Olivia said, starting to chop up an apple. 'You need your vitamins.'

Luna's older sister, Lily, shrugged. 'We could just pop a vitamin pill,' she suggested. 'Less mess and hassle.'

Olivia rolled her eyes. 'Your mom wouldn't appreciate that.'

'Mom's not here so what does it matter?' Luna muttered, making Lily narrow her eyes.

Olivia stopped chopping the apple and fixed the seventeen and twelve year old with a steady gaze.

'Even so, she would want you to eat your five a day,' Olivia told them, keeping her voice steady.

Luna looked down at her hands, picking a hang nail.

Lily looked away at the wall with her chin raised, looking so much like her mother in that moment that Olivia had to swallow down a lump in her throat.

'Do you think dad's gonna get up today?' Lily mumbled, looking at Olivia now.

Olivia bit her lip. 'It takes time, babe.'

'I'd like to see him before my next birthday,' Luna joined in, her voice bitter.

'Luna, will you shut the fuck up?!' Lily shouted, slamming her hands on the island. 'Why do you have to be so cold, all the time?'

Luna whipped around to face her sister, her eyes blazing. 'Well, since mom went and died on us, I'm sorry that I'm not all bubbly and annoying like you!'

Lily jumped down from the stool and rushed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

Luna groaned and jumped down too, calling after Lily to wait so she could apologise.

The kitchen was silent. Olivia held the kitchen knife tightly in her hand. She wasn't good at breaking up sibling fights. She was an only child.

She wasn't used to trying to comfort two very different children as they dealt with the passing of their mother.

***********************

Lily wiped her eyes fiercely as she finished composing an angry text to her boyfriend, Milo.

'She's such a bitch and she's only 12. She acts like dad's being pathetic but we only lost mom a month ago, just wish she would understand. Miss mom so much x'

Milo texted her back instantly.

'I'm here for you. Anytime you want to talk, I'm here. Do you want me to come over? X'

Lily was about to respond when her bedroom door knocked. 'Lily, can I come in?'

Lily rolled her eyes. It was Luna.

'Have you stopped being a harsh little brat?' she asked loudly.

There was a silence until Luna spoke. 'I'm sorry.'

Her voice sounded so small. Feeling bad, Lily stood up to open the door. Her little sister barrelled into her, wrapping her arms around her tightly.

It took a moment for Lily to respond. She wrapped her own arms around Luna, holding her close. She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, looking at the wall lamp. Her mother had aways told her to look at a bright light as a way to help stop tears from falling.

*****************************************

Since Camille had passed, Olivia had made it her mission to visit Drake and the girls everyday. She couldn't bear to see them suffer.

Olivia was thinking long and hard as she sat at the kitchen table. In her bag, she had something important. She had been given strict instructions that if things went to shit, that was the time to do it.

Well, Drake had been in his bedroom for hours.

Lily and Luna had fallen out.

Olivia had ran out of fruit.

Things had officially gone to shit.

Reluctantly, Olivia opened her handbag to locate the USB stick. She held it in her hand, as if she could summon Camille then and there.

******************************************

Five months ago

'Take it.'

'No, Camille! God, you're so fucking morbid!'

Camille was holding out the USB stick to Olivia with a determined look on her face. Olivia was backed against the fireplace in the living room, trying to get as far away as possible.

'Liv, please,' Camille whispered.

Olivia shook her head. 'No. I refuse to take that fucking time bomb. Its morbid.'

Camille rolled her eyes. 'Babe, I'm fucking dying. Everything about me is morbid.'

Olivia pressed her lips together as she looked at her best friend. Camille was so skinny now. Her cheeks were hollow. The one thing that made her look semi healthy was her hair. Her hair - wig, Olivia scolded herself. Wig - was brushed to perfection, looking as realistic as possible. When Camille faced the harsh reality that she was losing her hair, Drake bought her the best wig money could buy. He hadn't wanted his wife to feel different about herself.

'I think it's a terrible idea,' Olivia told her bluntly. 'What good will it do?'

Camille smiled softly. 'It will help him heal.'

Olivia threw her hands up in frustration. 'Camille, you're not going to die, okay?! We won't let that happen! You are going to live until you're fucking ninety and we'll be in a retirement home drinking wine and flirting with our carers! That's how this is going to pan out. So stop being morbid.'

Camille closed her eyes and clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palm. 'Olivia,' she said, her voice low. 'I am going to die. The doctor said I've got a 30% survival rate -'

'Which is 30% more than nothing!' Olivia burst out.

'I've got to be realistic here,' Camille continued, her voice cracking. 'Soon, I'm going to be gone. Lily will be going to college soon. Luna will be turning thirteen and becoming a teenager. Drake will be by himself, without me. He will have to deal with so much shit and he is going to feel like he won't be able to do it. But Liv, he can.'

Camille fixed Olivia with a determined look. now. 'Drake can do anything,' she said fiercely. 'He is the strongest man I know. He just needs to believe in himself. I hate that I'm putting him through this shit show but this is our reality now and I have made my peace with the fact that I'm not gonna see my girls grow up to be women.'

Her breath hitched now. 'I'm not gonna see Drake grow old. I'm not gonna celebrate 50 years of marriage with him.'

Her eyes filled with tears now. Olivia reached out to take her hand but Camille shook her head, looking up at the ceiling light.

'I'm gonna be in the ground,' Camille told Olivia. 'But I'll be damned if I leave this earth without being there for my family. I'm always going to be there for them. Drake will just need a reminder of that.'

There was a long silence. Olivia rubbed her eyes that had now filled with hot tears.

'What do you want me to do?' she finally asked.

Camille handed her the USB stick.

'When things go to shit,' Camille said, her voice wavering, 'give Drake this.'

Olivia took it and placed it in her handbag, making sure it was put in a safe pocket. She turned back to look at Camille.

'You're so fucking extra, you know that right?' she teased. It was the lightness the both of them needed as Camille and Olivia started to laugh.

**********************************************

Olivia wiped her eyes briskly and stood up. Holding the USB stick, she strode out of the kitchen and upstairs to the master bedroom.

She knocked on the door and let herself in. The room was dark with the curtains pulled shut, blocking out the light. She could just about make out the body of Drake who was lying curled up on the bed.

'Drake it's me,' she said softly.

'Camille?'

Drake's voice was foggy. He had been asleep. Olivia's heart tugged as she said 'No, it's Olivia.'

'Oh. Sorry Liv.'

Olivia walked further into the room and perched on the edge of the bed. She turned on the bedside table light. Her breath caught when she saw the framed photo on the nightstand.

Drake and Camille's wedding. He had been dipping her low on the dance floor and the camera had captured the moment Drake kissed Camille dramatically. It was a typical Drake and Camille moment.

'You gonna get up today?' Olivia asked him. 'The girls miss you.'

Drake sat up heavily. His eyes were red rimmed and his face was covered with stubble. He looked like shit but given the circumstances, it was understandable.

'I appreciate you helping out with the girls, Liv,' Drake said softly. 'Sorry I've been useless.'

Olivia shrugged. 'I get it. We all deal with shit in our own way.'

Drake nodded and looked down at his hands, picking his nails like Luna did.

Olivia tried to think of the best way to do this. Offer it like a present? Put it on the table? Throw it at him?

In the end, she cleared her throat and said, 'Camille gave me something before she passed.'

Drake blinked. 'She.. She did?'

'Yes,' Olivia said, soldiering on. 'She said when things go to shit, I have to give it to you.'

Drake's fists clenched the duvet cover. 'Have things gone to shit?' he asked, his voice monotone.

'You stay in bed all day, Lily and Luna are at each others throats and I've ran out of fruit to give them,' she told him. 'So yeah, things have gone to shit.'

Drake chuckled dryly, without humour. 'My wife was fucking psychic.'

Olivia rolled her eyes and gave him the USB stick. Drake looked down at it with his eyebrows knitted in confusion.

'Uhhh.. Liv?'

'Put it in your laptop,' Olivia told him. 'I've no idea what this is but knowing Camille, it's gonna be worth it.'

***********************************************************

Drake slotted the USB stick into the slot and waited with bated breath for it to load. He clicked on the file and waited some more.

Camille's face appeared on the screen. Drake let out a choked breath.

'Hey, baby,' Camille said, giving him a wry smile. She reached out to touch the camera so her fingers touched the screen. Drake paused it and reached out to touch her fingertips with his.

After a long moment, Drake cleared God throat. 'Get it together, Walker,' he muttered.

He restarted the video.

'So, I guess if you're watching this, it means I'm gone and everything has gone to shit,' Camille said. 'Can't say I'm happy about that but here we are.'

She took a deep breath. 'Okay, so I figured you might need some tough talk from your wife. I remembered how you were when your mom died and how broken you were. I guess I've been worried that you're going to go through the same thing with me..'

She went quiet, as if she was thinking of what else she could say in this weird situation.

'So right now, it's the day we were told that the cancer had spread. Chemo didn't work. To be honest, Drake, I'm fucking glad to be off the chemo because it honestly made me feel like shit. You remember, don't you?'

Drake did remember. It wasn't the cancer that broke people. It was the treatment designed to cure cancer that did.

'The doctor says I've got a 30% chance of survival and I'll be honest, I'm petrified,' Camille said, her voice shaking. 'I feel so lost. I really wanted to beat this but I'm too weak to fight it anymore. For that, I'm sorry. I've let you down.'

She went quiet again. She was blinking rapidly. Drake wished he could reach out and take her hand.

'I've decided that instead of wallowing, I'm going to record this video for you. The one who matters,' Camille continued, training her voice to be steadier. 'I'm not gonna mope. Instead, I want to be there for you. You were my rock ever since I found that lump while I showered. You've always been my rock. So let me return the favour.'

********************************

Lily and Luna lay curled up on Lily's bed. Luna played with a lock of her sisters hair as they both looked up at the ceiling that was lit up by fairy lights.

'Do you think dad will be okay?' Luna asked.

'I hope so,' Lily replied softly. 'He must be feeling so lost right now. He's been married since he was 28.'

Luna bit her lip. 'Poor dad.'

'We'll be there for him,' Lily told her. 'We just got to make him smile again.'

'How?'

The question hung heavy in the air. Lily thought to herself, needing to think of an answer.

'Camping and s'mores,' she finally said. 'That's what he used to do for us when we were upset. Let's do that for him.'

Luna jumped up, her eyes wild. 'We can bring hot chocolate and blankets! And we can swap stories about mom!'

'Yeah!' Lily cried, getting excited too. For a moment, she was back to her usual exuberant self. 'We'll swap fun stories. She'd like that.'

They went quiet again and settled down. Luna fidgeted with the fluffy pink blanket as she thought to herself.

'I miss mom so much,' she whispered.

Lily pulled her in to give her a hug. 'Me too, Little Moon.'

Luna wrinkled her nose. 'Only dad is allowed to call me that.'

'Don't care, I'm still gonna call you it.'

Luna hit Lily on the arm playfully. Lily laughed and grabbed her in a headlock.

*******************************************************

Camille let out a breath and gave the camera a smile. 

‘Let me guess. You’ve been in bed for ages, you haven’t slept or showered and your stubble is getting worse,’ she said. ‘You don’t see the point in doing anything. But here’s the kicker, Drake. You have to keep going. You’ve got our daughters to look after. You’ve got a future to plan for.’

Drake closed his eyes. A future without you in it though. 

‘I know it’s going to be hard, baby,’ she told him. ‘You’re going to feel empty. But you can’t let yourself fall too far, I won’t let you. I’ve watched you blossom and shine in the seventeen years I’ve been with you; you’re a changed man. Sure, you’re still a grumpy marshmallow but you’re my grumpy marshmallow..’

She suddenly sniffled and placed her hands over her face. Drake let out a strangled groan as he watched his wife crumble before his eyes. Camille kept her head down as she cried, not showing her face to her husband. Her shoulders shook. 

‘Baby, it's okay…’ Drake whispered. ‘I got you.’

Camille waved her hands in the air. ‘Look at me, getting all emotional. Stop it, Camille, stop it…’

She gathered herself and cleared her throat, fixing the camera with red rimmed but determined eyes.

‘I am always going to be your own personal cheerleader,’ she said. ‘I have been your main supporter since day one. All I want is for you to be happy and live life. Be the Drake Walker I know you are. That’s all I ask.’

Drake wiped his eyes and watched as Camille brought a piece of paper out of her pocket and brandished it at the screen. 

‘Drake Walker, this is how I want you to live life. Take care of our girls. Be silly. Sing to terrible 80s music in the car as you drive. Embarrass Luna with your dad jokes. Get drunk on whiskey and do that sexy dance you do when you’ve had one glass too many. Go out for drinks with the guys and chat shit. Go camping with our daughters. Walk tall and with your head held high when you attend those court events you hate so much. Argue with Olivia but remember that she is the godmother to our children and is actually one of your best friends. Indulge Maxwell and join in with his dance class one day. Get a girlfriend.’

Drake blinked. ‘No, no, no-’

‘Oh my god, I can hear you protesting right now!’ Camille cried. ‘Drake, come on. You can’t go through life alone. Just because you get a new girlfriend doesn’t mean you have forgotten me. It just means you’ve got space in your heart. I want that space to be filled. Like.. ask out that barista from the coffee place! I’ve seen you check her out so do it! She’s gorgeous! And I’ve seen her check you out too so you’re already in there! I was just cock blocking you.’

Drake chuckled despite his feelings about this. Camille gave him a knowing grin. 

‘If heaven exists, trust me, I will be up there flirting with James Dean so don’t feel like you’re cheating on me.’ 

Drake laughed properly now, shaking his head as he listened to his wife list all of the men she was going to flirt with. ‘Elvis, River Phoenix, Heath Ledger…’

She giggled now. Drake smiled, enjoying hearing it. Camille put her list back in her pocket and looked serious again. 

‘Drake, I love you,’ she told him. ‘Always have, always will. But you gotta move forward. I don’t mean move on - nobody can do that when they lose someone. But you’ve got to put me in a box. By all means, open the box when you feel like you’re isolated or just need to breathe. But then you’ve got to put the box away and keep going. Take it day by day. It’s not going to be easy but I refuse to let you waste away in your bed, wallowing, when there are the moments in between that you are missing out on. Take those moments, baby. Do it for me.’

She smiled. ‘I’m going to sign off now. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. But I’ll see you on the other side.’

Camille exhaled and took a moment to look at the camera with her brown eyes steady and a little smile on her face. She looked wistful. 

‘Now please shave,’ she said, giving him a wink. She leaned forward and kissed the camera before the screen went black. 

*************************************************

Olivia was watching TV with Lily and Luna. The girls were lolling on her, their legs tangled with hers, not caring about personal space. They all jumped when they heard the door open.

Drake was standing at the doorway. 

‘Oh my god, you shaved!’ Olivia cried, standing up to greet him. ‘Thank god, Walker!’

Drake smiled bashfully and ran his hand through his hair. ‘Thanks, Liv. Nice to see you too.’

Lily and Luna bolted up to hug him. The three of them stood there for a moment, hugging each other tightly. 

‘We missed you,’ Lily told him. 

‘I missed you both too,’ Drake said, giving her a sad smile. ‘But I’m here now. Dad’s here.’

Olivia cleared her throat. ‘So I’m gonna go.. See you guys tomorrow?’

Drake looked at her now and shook his head gently. ‘We’ll be fine. I really appreciate you helping out these past few weeks, Liv. It means a lot. I don’t know what we’d have done without you.’

Olivia smiled and picked up her coat and handbag. ‘Probably starved to death.’

‘Probably,’ Drake chuckled. Olivia clapped him on the back and leaned down to kiss Lily and Luna. 

‘Bye babes,’ she said. ‘Love ya.’

‘Love you too!’ the girls chorused. 

When Olivia left, the three of them looked at each other expectantly. Drake sighed. ‘So.. what do you guys want to do for dinner? Chinese? Pizza?’

Lily and Luna exchanged looks. 

‘Actually.. We were thinking smores,’ Lily told him. ‘Want to camp outside tonight?’

A bright, genuine smile broke out on Drake’s face. He pulled his daughters in for a hug. 

‘Smores sound perfect,’ he whispered. 

Luna squeezed him tight. ‘I’ll get the marshmallows and crackers,’ she whispered back. 

‘I’ll make the hot chocolate,’ Lily said. 

Together, they left the room to gather the items they needed. Drake exhaled and padded across to the French doors that led out to the terrace where he and Camille had spent many nights relaxing with a glass of whiskey and glass of wine. The terrace felt empty without her laughter.

Until the silence was replaced by Lily and Luna laughing as they joined their father outside. Luna brandished the bag of marshmallows and Drake began to set up the fire pit so they could toast them. 

Soon, the air was filled with the smell of marshmallows and chocolate. Lily and Luna clambered onto the same chair as their dad, determined to be close to him. Drake smiled to himself. 

He still had moments in between. Little glimmers of hope amongst the darkness.  But the moments were there, waiting to be found. 

#drake walker #trr fanfic

[kathyprior4200]

Helluva Boss Episode Remakes!

 Not too far away from Pentagram City lay a shady place in the bowels of Hell. “Welcome to Imp City: est. 1981” was posted on a worn wooden sign with a white painted eye toward the top. Under a crimson sky, a wide array of buildings made up the city, some with spikes on the roofs. Downtrodden imps of various colors and sizes mulled around the streets and ghettos. Mugging, sex, drugs, poverty, and murder were common aspects of their everyday afterlives. Indeed, being considered “lesser demons” and the “lowest of the low,” not very many had opportunities granted to them.

 Well, save for a unique family of imps, trying to get their business running.

 Just who were these imps?

 A nearby screen showed old fashioned numbers ticking down, 3, 2, and 1. Blitzo, a red and white faced imp, appeared on stage in front of purple open curtains. “Hi there! I’m Blitzo! The “O” is silent, and I’m the founder of I.M.P.!” He put out his hand and the logo appeared above it. The ��M” in I.M.P. looked like imp horns, black and white in color. Down below were the words “Immediate Murder Professionals.”

 Blitzo spoke again. “Are you a piece of shit who got yourself sent to Hell?”

 A picture of Blitzo with a mustache and two black top hats over his horns was grinning evilly as a building burned in the background. The sign nearby read “Orphanage for elderly, blind, and newborn dogs.”

 “Or are you an innocent soul who just happened to get fucked over by someone else?”

 The next image showed Blitzo in a white angel costume, happily throwing away a Styrofoam coffee cup in a wastepaper basket instead of a recycling bin in an office.

 In the next shot, Blitzo held up a sign which read “Some guy who hired us!” A buff horned red demon wearing a white Ohio shirt stood not too far from the camera, a 666 News billboard in the background. He punched one fist into his hand.

 “After lovingly killing my wife for fucking a delivery man, you can imagine my surprise when I wound down here, after the state of Ohio killed me. I really wish I could stick it to that yappy jogger who saw me hiding the body.”

 Blitzo appeared again, this time with his fellow imps Millie and Moxxie in the background. A white-clothed altar with a mirror and skulls on it was in the very back. White candles were spread around the room. The two imps were sitting at a pentagram drawn on the floor. Blitzo held a blue Satanic ritual book in his hand.

 “Well, luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world…”

 He waved his hand and a flaming portal appeared in the center of the room, causing Moxxie and Millie to scatter.

 “…we can help you take care of your unfinished business by taking out anyone who screwed you over when you were alive!” He happily fell through the portal on his back like it was a mosh pit.

 Then the musical jingle started:

 “When you want somebody gone

And you don’t wanna wait too long

Call the Immediate Murder Professionals”

  “Hand grenade or cyanide

We’ll make it look like suicide

The Immediate Murder Professionals”

 “We do our job so well

‘Cause we come straight up from Hell…”

 “We’ll kill your husband or you wife

We’ll even let you keep the knife,

 The Immediate…Murder…Professionals.

 Kids die for freeee!”

  A white person appeared with a thought bubble of his enemy with a red x. A demon fell to the floor and the person looked up. The I.M.P. logo appeared, silhouettes of Millie with a spear, Moxxie with a gun and Blitzo in the middle, spreading out his arms to make an “M.”

 Fast paced shots flashed through the ad.

 Moxxie throwing a grenade out a window as his companions grinned.

 Blitzo hanging a person in an office building while Moxxie watched. Millie held a suicide note in her hand.

 Then more killing scenes flashed: Blitzo electrocuting a person, Millie using a mace, Moxxie choking his victim.

 Blitzo led the way through a portal to Earth, Millie and Moxxie following. Moxxie tripped on a book and landed on his face while the others posed. They then stood up shocked…at the people in a church staring at them in confusion.

 Millie killed a naked couple with a chainsaw while Blitzo looked greedily at a woman’s underwear.

 Blitzo repeatedly stabbed someone else tied up near a “Blitzo show” sign at a circus.

 The three imps used more methods to kill Earthlings: Medieval torture racks, shark attacks, fire and gasoline on someone, pillow suffocation, crushing someone to death with a grand piano, the electric chair for a prisoner…

 “Kids die for freeeee!” ended the ad.

 Moxxie and Millie sang a murder love song in their living room before the meeting. Moxxie played on his purple demon-face guitar as Millie watched him with love in her eyes. It reminded them of the good times when they would shot at demons together in the streets, drag a bloody sack behind them and when Millie got a grenade as a present and used it to blow up a building.

  “Oh what a thrill when the crimson starts to spill

And my Millie goes in for the kill

She takes away my breath

She’s the angel of death for me

Oh Millie

She a queen, it’s like a dream

When I hear her victims start to scream

Get him out of the sack

She’s a maniac for me

Oh Millie

When the blood starts dripping down the sides

And the bodies start to fall from the skies

My heart skips a beat

When my Millie’s guns a blazing in the night

That’s in love

She makes the murdering fun for me”

 Both of them hummed before Moxxie finished,

  “Of all the imps in Hell…

Millie joined in, “It’s for him that I fell…

“Oh Millie.” They leaned in for a kiss.

  They paused. Moxxie yelled, while looking out the window. His boss, Blitzo was pressed against the window with a video camera. “Are you fucking filming us right now?!”

 Moxxie sighed, as a smiling Blitzo held up a sign which read “Meeting in 20 min: nice job banging yo’ wife!”

  Just before the meeting, the head imp, Blitzo walked into the receptionist room.

 “Blitz!” called Loona, the hellhound, holding a bone shaped phone in her hand. “That clingy rich asshole’s on the phone! Says it’s urgent and wants to talk to you!” Then she added in a lower voice, “Sounds a little DTFy.” (Down to Fuck)

 Blitzo spilled water on himself as he talked with Moxxie by the water cooler. “Oh god that was one time! We wouldn’t have access to the living world…if I hadn’t slept with that privileged asshole!”

 “You what?” Moxxie asked in disbelief.

 “Blitz!” Loona barked in outrage.

 “I heard you already!” Blitzo yelled. He stomped into his office and picked up his red cell phone. He played with little bobble heads of his imp coworkers, Moxxie and Millie. Signs were tacked to the wall, reading: “The Incredible Blitzo! One night only! Tickets now at the Big Top!”

 “So…” Blitzo beamed nervously, “What can I do you for this time, Stolas?”

 The owl overlord replied, lounging on his couch in a royal red robe and a crown.

 “Remember that time when I told you that a political candidate was causing problems up on Earth for a few of my associates? That he tried to convince people that global warming existed?”

 “Yes?” Blitzo answered.

 “And that it does, but more people die when nothing’s done about it? Oh, how lonely I felt.”

 “Okay well, yeah that makes sense,” Blitzo said.

 “But now…” he hooted in laughter. “There are tons of new sinners coming down here every day! I just had a feast and a murder party several nights ago. I wondered why a horde of people arrived and it’s because of a disease called the coronavirus! My, it’s the best thing to ever happen since my wedding with my queen Melody and my darling daughter Octavia’s graduation from flight school. Oh, how marvelous!”

 “Well…I’m very happy for you, sir,” Blitzo said. “I hope that…corn-ah virus does its thing.”

 Stolas sighed. “My wife wasn’t happy with me, though. She said you fell onto a cake in the middle of a lunch with her and the royal officials. What did you say to her?”

 “I said…’sorry I fucked your husband.’” He gulped.

 A tense silence.

 Blitzo examined his chest and arms. “I still have the talon scars and peck marks to prove it.”

 “And she also said that you stole one of my books, is that true?”

 “No! No way!” Blitzo lied, with a nervous laugh. “That was another imp long ago. Can I tell you how great it felt…sleeping with you?”

 “Indeed,” Stolas agreed with a contented sigh. “Your sharp horns and claws ruffling through my feathers, and my talons and beak exploring your multicolored flesh. You know what happens when I’m lonely, Blitzy?”

 “Oh, god fucking dammit…” Blitzo muttered to himself.

 Stolas’ eyes grew red. “When I’m lonely, I become hungry. And when I’m become hungry…I want to choke on that red dick of yours!  **** your ***** then lick all of your *****, before taking out your **** and **** with more teeth until you’re screaming ******** like a fucking baby!”

 Blitzo hung up the phone, the words on Stolas’ picture reading “creepy mouth: aka one night stand bird dick.” and smashed it with a rotary phone. He threw the pieces into a blender and mixed it up.

 “Eat this!” he told Loona who walked in and drank the red liquid.

 “And then you know that bridge over the freeway?” he asked.

 “Yeah?”

 “Shit off it! It’s time for the meeting, let’s go.”

  The imps currently resided in a tall office building that seemed to stand out among the other structures. Along with spikes jutting from the roof and sides, there were a pair of giant black and white imp horns attached to the sides of the building for decoration. The lights inside near the top floor were on.

 Posted on a door were the words “I.M.P. Headquarters” with “IMP Meeting in Progress” written on a piece of paper taped to the door, a smiley face off to the side.

 On a white board was a bar graph and a line graph, the line graph pointing lower at a drawing of a raging horned demon. “Fix this shit!” was written in big bold letters that took up much of the board. “Blitzo is the best, by Blitzo” was scribbled off to the side. Several tall chairs with spikes jutting from the top boarders were set near a brown table in the center of the room. A white pentagram was drawn in the center of the table.

 Up front, a black, white, and red colored imp paced back and forth, sprouting long curved striped horns: Blitzo. He wore black fingerless gloves with what looked like a yellow eye design on each glove. He was dressed in a slender navy blue business suit with light red buttons. A small round pink pin with black eyes and a stitched mouth was attached onto a red undershirt below his slender chin. What looked like a black two-clawed print mark lay over his red forehead. Along with sharp teeth, the imp has red iris eyes with yellow sclera. Like a typical devil, he also had a red pointed tail. He had four red finger-shaped claws on each hand.

 Blitzo began to speak, pacing back and forth. He looked toward his audience of two imps and a hellhound sitting on chairs around a table.

 “Alright, now I know business has been…a bit slow, lately, yes.”

 He mentioned to the board at the downward sloping line. “In fact, there seems to be less people seeking out our services; 1,056 in comparison to the 1,066 from last month. We’ve basically spiraled from the True Blue Market to that of the Raging Bull.” He pointed at the roaring demon head drawing on the board.

 “Shouldn’t it be the Bull Market is good and the Bear Market is bad?” said a voice.

 “Loona, nobody cares,” Blitzo said. He continued.

 “Any decrease could spell disaster for us, not to mention how lots of people use our services and yet look down on us.”

  Blitzo cleared his throat and spread out his hands. “It’s no one’s fault, okay? I’m not naming any names here…Moxxie.”

 Moxxie raised his eyebrows in a “what the hell?” gesture as Blitzo looked at him. The serious imp had a red face, yellow eyes, white hair framing his face and stripped horns jutting off to the sides in slight curves. He wore a large red bow-tie and a navy blue suit. White freckles were present under his eyes.

 Blitzo continued, “Now does anyone have any bright ideas on how we can get business drumming up again?”

 Millie, the bubbly imp raised her hand. She had a red face, messy black hair with a white flower patch near the top, and short black horns with faint white stripes. Her eyes were also yellow and she wore a black top, black torn pants, high heeled shoes and a little black choker around her neck. Her eyelashes extended past her face.

 Millie waved her hand and beamed, eyes shining. “What…about…a car wash?!”

 “This is Hell, Millie. No one cares about cars being clean here, okay?”

 Just then, there came a coughing from the other room. A small cyclops demon with hot pink hair with a patch of yellow opened the door and walked in. She brushed off soot from her hot pink skirt and waved at the group, who stared in surprise.

 “Hi, I’m Niffty! It’s nice to meet you. Are you part of I.M.P.?”

 “Uh yes?” Blitzo replied, unsure of what to make of this random maid.

 “Oh great, because one of my friends sent me here to investigate, he’s a busy chap, you know, and oh so dreamy!”

 She darted around the room and began removing cobwebs from the windows. “It looks like there are two men, a woman and a dog here, a nice balance.”

 Loona, the grey hellhound glared at Niffty, narrowing her red eyes. “What was that, you little shit?”

 Loona had a red cell phone in her clawed paws, the back of the phone displaying a black upside down cross. She wore a grey top with black strings in the shape of an inverted pentagram. A spiked collar was around her neck. Her pants were dark and torn, with a white crescent moon on them. Her feet were bare and her hair and tail were thick with white and dark fur.

 Niffty stopped in her tracks. “Now, did you guys need any cars to be washed?”

 Blitzo shook his head. “We don’t have any cars here, we’re broke as fuck.”

 Millie stared at Niffty and cupped her own cheeks with her hands. “Oh my Satan! She’s so adorable! Can we keep her?!”

 “No!” Moxxie and Loona said at the same time. The two workers then glared at each other.

 Moxxie crossed his arms. “We’re in the middle of a meeting right now. Do you mind?!” He pointed to the door.

 Niffty laughed nervously, “Oh okay, sorry about that, hehhehheh. I’ll be outside if you need me!”

 She scurried out of the room.

 Blitzo paused for a moment, then said, “Oh right! Ideas for our company!” He waved his hands, his eyes shining. “Ooh, what about a billboard?”

 Moxxie crossed his arms. “We can’t afford a billboard, sir.”

 Blitzo rushed over and held Moxxie in a headlock. His voice was rushed and sarcastic, “Helpful, Moxxie. Really glad you’re in the room right now.” He shoved Moxxie away.

 Blitzo stared in frustration. “Have you guys forgotten what service we provide?”

 He picked up a remote and turned on an old fashioned TV.

 After static appeared on screen, the footage showed the group killing off individuals.

 Blitzo bashing a red demon’s head with a mullet.

Moxxie shooting a blue person tied up to a chair.

Loona grabbing a red person in her mouth and shaking the person side to side like a wolf.

Millie beheading a blue person with a spear and laughing.

 Blitzo watched with a relaxed smile on his face, holding up a blue bowl of popcorn. Loona sat on the table, popping popcorn pieces into her mouth. Millie was perched on the table, enjoying the show, but Moxxie stood off to the side with a grumpy face.

 Posters hung from the walls, one showing Blitzo and his two sisters, Tilla (an imp with long black hair) and Barbie Wire (a smiling imp with ram-like horns.) It was a picture of them at a circus, the banner reading “The Amazing Imp Siblings!” Blitzo remembered the good times he had with them when they performed on stage. Barbie Wire would balance on a tightrope, holding a pole with flames on either end. Tilla tamed and evaded manticores, dragons and other beasts that were released into the arena. Blitzo would sing songs about murdering people and they would all pose and bow at the end as the crowd cheered.

 That was before Blitzo moved on to form I.M.P. recruited Moxxie and Millie, and adopted Loona.

 Blitzo moved his hand toward his chest and sighed with content. “Ahh, those were the good times.”

 Moxxie spoke up as Millie ate a piece of popcorn. “I don’t need any reminding, sir, considering you blew most of our salaries on an obnoxious TV ad last week. One that you then additionally paid to have run for a full three hours on a channel, nobody watches.”

 Blitzo turned his head, insulted. “Uh, hey, excuse me.” He stood up. “What’s “obnoxious” about a super-fun jingle, all right? It’s a fun distraction when an advertisement’s spittin’ bullshit!”

 He walked across the room.

 “People love musicals, sir,” Millie added.

 Blitzo smiled. “Exactly, Millie, and we’re basically doin’ a musical.” Blitzo did jazz hands before pointing rapidly at Moxxie with a scowl.

 “Are you gonna crush my musical theatre dreams like my dad did?” He lowered his head.

 “Sir…” Moxxie began, but his boss cut him off.

 “Because right now, all I see is just my dad’s asshole talking to me! Crushing my dreams of being who I truly am inside.” He turned his head away.

 Millie leaned in toward her husband and spoke with a teasing tone. “Are you trying to crush his dreams, Moxxie?”

 “I…what?” he asked, looking at her. Millie leaned in close and stuck out her tongue, tail curling. “I thought I knew you.” Moxxie rolled his eyes; his wife loved to annoy him.

 Blitzo turned back to Moxxie, tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe you, Moxxie. After I made you employee of the month!” He held a picture of Moxxie with his mouth open in a roar, snake tongue showing.

 Moxxie threw up his hands, “Okay, sir! I’m sorry, a commercial jingle is not comparable to musical theatre. Nobody actually likes the jingles.”

 “I liked it!” Millie pipped up.

 Moxxie turned to her, finger shaking, “Do not…do not agree with him in front of me.”

 Loona sat, bored, playing on her phone. Moxxie’s head appeared on the screen but was crushed by a weight and then blown up by a bomb. At one point his face was sliced in half as “boom!” flashed across the screen.

 “Remember when we shot that kid on Earth?” Blitzo asked.

 Moxxie got a flashback. “Oh, right. I shot that boy who was walking around licking strawberry ice cream. It was an accident. He was taken on a stretcher to the hospital.”

 The pink haired nurse had said, “Doctor, he’s not responding!”

 “Cool water, stat!” The blue-haired man had said next. He slammed water down on the boy and said, “It didn’t do anything!”

 The doctor had said, “Damn it! I’m not losing another one! “Clear!” Then they had shocked him and the boy somehow woke up with a gasp. The doctor said “Holy shit, it actually worked.”

 Millie then explained that the three of them sat in the waiting room. Blitzo read a magazine while Millie comforted Moxxie. The doctor had said to the imps, “He appears to be in stable condition, but he’ll need surgery. Now what insurance provider do you freaks have?”

 Then Blitzo asked, “The fuck is insurance?”

 Moxxie sighed, “…and then they kicked us and the boy out and we fell back into Hell.”

  A moment later, Moxxie spoke, hands forward in front of him. “I’d like to go on record and say that incident was Loona’s fault. Dispatch is supposed to give us the right info on the target. It’s very simple.”

 “Oh, sit on a dick, Moxxie,” Loona replied without looking up.

 Moxxie stuttered angrily, looking for a comeback. “You sit! Sit on…a… and the d...do your job!” He slammed his palm on the table.

 Blitzo scolded him. “Hey, now we don’t blame our screw-ups on Loona, okay? She didn’t do anything wrong!” He hugged her and nuzzled his head against her cheek, the hellhound growling at him to get off.

 Moxxie stared in disbelief. “Are you kidding me, sir? She’s awful.”

 Lonna looked at her phone. “The other day, right? I answered the puppy barking phone and said ‘Hello, I.M.P.’ Millie was yelling, ‘Loona, I got stabbed! Call Mox…’ and then I hung up. Wasn’t my problem. My Hellhound Monthly magazine was much more interesting.”

 “Don’t forget about my adoption anniversary gift I gave you,” Blitzo said, scratching his neck.

 Lonna seethed. “Don’t remind me. It wasn’t a cure for syphilis, I didn’t want it, and it so happened to be black spiders, crawling all over me!”

 “Again, I’m sorry it was spiders,” Blitzo said.

 “God damn it, apology not accepted.”

 “You should be thankful that I rescued you after your hellhound family kicked you out,” Blitzo remarked.

 Loona’s ears twitched. Millie stared nervously. “I was perfectly capable of fending for myself,” barked Loona, looking up from her phone for the first time. “There was nothing special about them, other than all the alcohol, meth and drugs they took. My parents never cared about us. I mean, they sent off my other siblings to work for other overlords and were never seen again. Perhaps I was fortunate enough to not have to deal with them.”

 Blitzo had tears in his eyes. He hugged her again. “Well, at least you’ve got me, Moxxie, and Millie as your new family!”

 Loona hid a smile and just bared her fangs. “Get off of me before I bite your face off!”

 Blitzo stepped back.

 Loona then smiled and looked at Moxxie, a look of mischief in her red eyes.

 Moxxie scowled. “Excuse me, did you just fax me an ad for weight loss the other day?”

 “No,” Loona answered. “I was busy watching the princess sing.”

 “Wha-Why…Why would anyone send me that?!” Moxxie argued.

 “Come on, you know why.” She smirked.

 “I’m not chubby, thank you very much! Not to mention, you were the one who ate my avocado salad lunch! How rude.”

 “I took it because I had the worst hangover.”

 “But why would you drink on a work night?” Millie asked.

 “I was hungover from that morning, dumbasses!” Loona said to Moxxie and Millie. “I couldn’t take your assaults. So I decided to blow some fucking steam! I kicked a baby in a carriage and caused some destruction. Felt good afterwards.”

 Blitzo mentioned to Loona. “Look, the point is, Loona is a valued member of our family and you don’t get rid of family.”

 “We aren’t a family, sir!” Moxxie pointed out. “You are the boss! We are the employees! You treat her like she’s some troubled teenager! She’s more like a meth-addicted homeless woman you let man the phone!”

 Loona flipped him the bird.

 “That is offensive!” said Blitzo, walking to the window, pulling open the blinds. “Without homeless people, I wouldn’t have half the joy and laughter I do in this life!”

  Outside, a homeless imp with a broken horn and ragged grey clothing held up a sign that read “Monee helps. Satan Bless.” An imp woman with black clothing and little bat wings blushed at Blitzo who waved and did a playful raise of eyebrows before closing the blinds.

 Moxxie crossed his arms. “While we’re on the subject of “family,” can you stop finding me and Millie outside of work?”

 “Come on, sweetie, it’s not that big a deal!” Millie said.

 Moxxie’s eyes grew wide. “Excuse me, what?! I asked you, ‘Honey, can you get the butter?’ You said, ‘sure sweetie’.”

 “Spoiler alert, the butter’s spoiled!” Blitzo added. Millie giggled.

  “He was in our fucking fridge! He was spying on me while I was asleep. And worse, he fucking filmed me and you while we were singing and about to kiss!”

 Blitzo giggled. “I still have it on camera.”

 “It’s fine, honey,” Millie replied to Moxxie, patting his shoulder. “The “spoiler alert, butter’s spoiled!” was a funny use of wordplay Blitzo used.”

 “Why was he in our fridge anyway?” Moxxie countered. “And then I was dreaming that my parents were being murdered and Blitzo interrupted it. I wanted to get back to that.”

 “I was just curious,” Blitzo responded.

 “Just. Stop. Doing. That,” Moxxie growled.

 “I don’t see what the issue is!” said Blitzo. “Is there something you don’t want me seeing?” A mischievous silly look crossed his face.

 “No!” Moxxie spat, eye twitching.

 “You a baby weiner havor?” Blitzo asked, another term for a small dick.

 Loona giggled under her breath.

Moxxie was fed up. “Sir, what you say and how you act is totally inappropriate!”

 Millie pulled him down gently. “Calm down, Mox, you’re gonna have another panic attack!”

 “I am calm!” he yelled.

 Millie rubbed his head and soothed him. “Shh, there, there.” Moxxie whimpered.

 Blitzo spoke again with a childish grin, making a hole with two fingers and tapping the opening with one finger. “Look, I don’t judge the boring couple stuff you do outside of work hours, so don’t judge me.”

 Veins popped out of Moxxie’s yellow eyes. “Oh I do judge you, sir. Quite a lot, actually.” He crossed his arms as Millie gasped in horror.

 “Mox, he’s our boss!”

 “No, no, no, it’s fine, Mills,” said Blitzo with a wave of his hand. “Your husband is just…how do I say this without being offensive…retarded.”

 “Does immaturingly insulting me make you feel better about your sad, single, life?”

 Blitzo leaned in toward Moxxie. “It actually does.”

 Loona appeared to agree, because she added to Moxxie, “The only reason you have a wife is because you’re easy to manage!”

 Moxxie gasped. She had called Moxxie submissive.

 “No he’s not, you bitch!” Millie yelled, holding up two middle fingers.

 “Do not talk to my assistant that way!” Blitzo demanded. “She’s sensitive!”

 “Yes I am!” Loona barked.

 Then a squeaky voice sounded from nearby: “You guys are all fucking assholes.”

 Everyone turned and stared at a boy wearing an orange shirt with a planet on it. He had brown hair, a blue baseball cap on and was connected to a monitor.

 Blitzo pointed at him. “Oh shut up, kid, you’re lucky to witness this.”

 Moxxie pinched his nose and sighed in frustration. “Ugh, this company is such a mess!”

 “Did someone call me?” Niffty’s voice rang from the hallway. She opened the door a crack. “I can clean up any messes you may have!”

 “No!” Moxxie called. “Go away!”

 Niffty slowly closed the door.

 An awkward silence…

 “Alright, let’s get back to talking about my outfit!” Blitzo said out of nowhere.

 “Nobody was talking about that,” Loona mentioned.

 “Which is why I’m trying to get that ball rolling. So how does it look? It’s good, right?”

 The kid pointed his finger at Blitzo. He ripped off the wires from his stomach.

 “It’s been a literal hell pretending to be paralyzed so you fuckshits wouldn’t kill me, but now? I want that. I want death. You!” he pointed to Blitzo. “You are a selfish, greedy clown. And I’m a kid! We’re supposed to like clowns…even the creepy ones!”

 Moxxie scoffed. “Hey now, that’s not very…”

 The kid cut him off. “If I wanted to hear from a spineless jackass, I’d rip out your spine and ask you some shit.”

 Moxxie shivered in fear.

 “That’s my husband you’re talking to!” Millie yelled.

 The kid snickered. “That’s your husband?! I figured you for a slut, but I didn’t know you needed dick that bad!”  

 Millie fumed at her husband being called ugly and weak. To think that she would have sex with anyone else at random…

 “And you!” The kid pointed at Loona.

 “What? What about me?” Loona asked.

 The kid crossed his arms. “Nothing. I don’t talk to dogs. I’m a cat person.”

 Loona whined.

 “Wow,” said Blitzo. “You know, kid, you kind of are a piece of shit.”

 “Yeah, after all, he’s kind of a piece of shit,” Moxxie muttered.

 A ding came from Loona’s phone. She smiled. “Oh fuck! Guys, I just got a text from our client. Guess he was the right target after all.”

 “Who?” Blitzo asked.

 “Him.”

 “Me?” asked the kid.

 “Yep,” she confirmed.

 “They wanted us to kill an actual child?” Blitzo asked.

 “That’s what they’re sayin’,” Loona said.

 Blitzo grinned and twirled a gun in his hand. His job just got more fun and easier. “Well Christ on a stick, I guess there is a god!” He fired and shot the boy in the chest. He flopped down dead in a pool of blood, smoke and sparks lingering in the air.

 Blitzo spoke about I.M.P.: “You know folks, with this company, I really wanted to prove that we’re capable of doing the same things anyone else can! Like killing people! So, from us here at the Immediate Murder Professionals group, we promise to settle your unfinished business or your money… is gone and you’re never getting it back and you can write us a bad review, but we’ll play dumb to it because it’s Hell and no one fucking cares.”

 Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie kicked the dead kid on the floor, enjoying themselves. Loona snapped a picture with her phone and recorded the scene. After the imps left with the body, Niffty came in and gasped.

 “Well, time to clean this up. What a mess!” She hummed a happy tune as she mopped up the blood at rapid speed.

 Blitzo and Moxxie wore gas masks and green suits as Blitzo sawed off the boy’s arm and Moxxie sawed his chest, organs spilling out into a sack below. Millie tossed an arm into the sack and Loona helped hold open the sack. Moxxie dropped the boy’s severed head inside and shared a loving smile with his wife.

 Etched in red graffiti on a dumpster behind them were the words “Devil,” “Hell,” “Happy Hotel,” and “I’m always chasing rainbows.” A pentagram, and wide smiles were also doodled on the surface.

 Blitzo embraced the entire group in a forceful hug, knocking the phone from Loona’s hands.

 “You know, even though this kid was a target, he’s still a child. It’s important that we’ve handled this going forward, respectfully.” He wrapped his long tail around the group, all of them smiling genuinely. For despite all their problems, they were still a company family.

 Back in the human world, a crying blonde mother wearing a pink shirt and a necklace held up a paper saying “missing boy.” Below in large letters read on the news: “Mom sucks at drawing own kid!” Words say “There is a missing boy!’ and “Yet another missing kid!”

 The mother spoke into the microphone, “Please! If anyone has seen my little Eddie, please contact us at…”

 She gasped as a sack dropped into her hands. She and the news reporter looked up to see a smiling Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie through a portal up above.

 “You’re welcome!” Blitzo called with a wave before the portal closed.

 The mother looked inside the bag and screamed. “My son! He’s dead! Noooo!”

Part One: Mrs. Mayberry

Once upon a time, there was an innocent lovely blonde teacher named Mrs. Mayberry who taught at a typical schoolhouse. She was born many years ago on July 24th.

 She taught at a red schoolhouse with a little golden bell at the top of it. “Learning is fun,” was written in bright yellow letters on the side of the building with art of colorful kites and a rainbow on it. A sign at the front read “Puppies Junior School” in sunlight. There were tall green trees and a playground off to the side. The golden bell rang for the start of the day. A blue jay and a cardinal sang from a tree branch as the teacher opened the white curtains.

 The Vivziepop lookalike woman wrote “Good morning!” in white chalk on the green blackboard.

  “Good morning!” She twirled in a dance, catching her piece of chalk. She wore a white shirt with colorful red cherries and a long blue-gray skirt. A green pendant rested on her shirt. She wore cherry earrings and round yellow glasses. Her blonde hair was tied back in a flower-like shape behind her. “Have a bright and sunny day” was written on a poster with a large smiling sun with big eyes on it. Nearby was a calendar and an old boxy computer on a desk. A white daisy was in a flower pot. “The word of the day is harmony,” was written on a schedule posted on a board behind the children sitting at desks. The orange curtains by the windows had white math symbols on it. The schedule read “math, history, reading, grammar, science, art and music” as the many school subjects for the days of the week.

 “I hope you all did your homework!” she trilled.

  The children nodded with a dance to their bodies. One boy wearing an orange shirt spun around in a stool wearing a dunce cap and he faced the wall. The class broke out randomly into song.

 “We love to do our homework and we love our teacher too!”

 The teacher sang, “And when I throw out these fun questions, you should know just what to do.”

 “Okay!” they cheered, arms in the air.

 She wrote on the board 2 + 6 = 8 and added,

“Two plus six is…”

 “Eight!” the class answered.

 “And good behavior’s…”

 “Great!” they chimed in.

 “And now it’s that part of the class when we say the time of day and date.”

 “It’s nine in the morning,” sang a blonde boy…

 “On January 8th…” added a black girl.

 “The sun is out smiling,” said a brown haired girl with a bow.

 “And it’s your husband’s birthday!” reminded the dunce boy with his tongue out.

 As the class sang “la la la,” the teacher found herself scrapping her chalk down in a line on the board. Sweat coated her forehead as the chalk was almost completely broken down. The singing was a constant drone in her head. Her right eye twitched and she turned around.

 “Oh my stars, stop singing children! Hush up now!”

 The class fell silent.

 She put a hand to her forehead. “I forgot it’s my husband’s birthday! I didn’t get him anything special.”

 The brown haired girl stood up and said, “Maybe if we call him, we could do a happy birthday surprise!”

 The teacher and kids gathered around the boxy computer. At the husband’s house, a lone sock fell on the call screen that read “wifey” on it.

 The screen turned on, and everyone gasped in disbelief.

 The teacher’s husband was in the process of having sex with another lady!

 A tie, a bra and a condom flew against the screen as they straddled naked in their bed.

 “We won’t be needing this,” a voice said as the condom hit the screen with Mrs. Mayberry’s face on the other side.

The teacher sat at her desk, looking stunned, her face turning red. The other woman was so young and beautiful. There was her husband, clad naked and showing off his muscles and parts to her.

 “Oh yeah,” the husband giggled, “Not there, not there.” They seemed to be also playing with sex toys.

 With a blank shadowed look on her face, the teacher suddenly stood up and walked away. If she wasn’t going to be able to divorce that cheating bastard…

 “Wait! Mrs. Mayberry!” called the brown haired girl. She took hold of the teacher’s hand. “Remember what you taught us…think before you act.”

 Dark thoughts suddenly festered within the woman and she gripped the girl’s neck before tossing her up in the air through the roof. She stomped out of the room and shut the door. The children ran to the window to watch as she got in her old green car and plowed through a white picket fence. “I love school” was on her license plate. The children rushed to the computer.

 The door to the bedroom was quickly pulled open.

 “Oh shit, sweetie!” said her husband, caught in the act of fucking the young lady on their master bed. “What are you doing here?”

 “Shut up, Jarold!” A newfound rage flared in her eyes. A deadly looking riffle was in her hands. She fired several shots.

 The blonde lady shrieked as Mrs. Mayberry moved closer.

 “You scream like a fish!” the teacher mentioned to the blonde haired lady.

 With a demonic yell, she brutally shot the younger woman across multiple areas of her body. Thick blood splattered everywhere.

 Her husband gasped. “Oh god, what have you done?! She had a family!”

 “We could’ve had a family!” the teacher sobbed, in a flood of despair and rage. She picked up a bullet and shot her husband square in the head. He collapsed to the floor, dead.

 “Oh god, what have I done?” she asked, frazzled, whipping away the blood from the screen. She saw her children stare in horror and disgust. “In front you all.” She broke down into tears, seeing her dead husband in a pool of blood.  She spoke her last words through sobs. “I’m so sorry my children. Don’t forget to work on your timestamps.”

 Mrs. Mayberry knew there was nothing left for her but jail time and grief. There was only one other option. With shaking hands, she shot herself in the chest with a yelp. The children fainted on the floor one by one at the traumatizing sight. The policeman took the wailing blonde lady to the hospital…and found Mrs. Mayberry’s body lying next to her husband’s on the blood-stained floor.

 The blonde lady Martha stared lovingly with a brown uncovered eye at her new muscular husband Ralphie wearing an orange plaid shirt. He had brown hair and an athlete/superhero build. Their two children stood by her bedside as she recovered. The room had bouquets of colorful flowers in every corner. Camera flashed as news reporters talked to her.

 “How does it feel to have survived such a crazy bitch?” a newswoman asked.

 “I just hope that sick woman finally found peace,” Martha drawled in her hospital bed.

 Her husband comforted her, head lowered.

 “You are so brave,” the reporter commended to Martha. “Here’s $2 million dollars!”

 The woman’s face lit up as she was handed a large golden check. “Oh thank you!” She smiled at the cameras with her husband like she was a movie star.

 The stereotypical America family lived in a house near the woods and by a lake. Martha dressed like a housewife with a long polka dot skirt. Her daughter had brown pigtails, a lavender shirt with a tie, and a red skirt, with boots. The younger boy had a beaver-skin cap, a white shirt, brown pants and camouflage boots. On the outside, they were the perfect typical family.

 “You’re a hero,” said more news people as she stood elegantly at a VNN (Vivienne News Network) podium.

 “You’re a hero, girl,” admired a brown skinned jogger with short blonde passing Martha by. Martha basked in the attention and wealth. Who knew that getting shot at would change her life for the better.

 “My mama’s a hero!” declared the son.

 “She is a hero!” The brown haired casher agreed down to him as the family went grocery shopping.

 “Ooooh…You’re a hero!” moaned her husband as he thrust his penis wildly in and out of her as they made love in their bedroom. Their walls were covered with pelvises and newspaper clippings of Martha under “local hero” headings.

 “You’re a hero,” smiled an old praying priest who stood by her at one church meeting.

 Even worse for Mayberry, a new class of children cheered, “You’re a hero!” to Martha when she taught a “How to deal with trauma 101 class.”

 “Oh you’re a hero!” another man groaned as he wildly gave her anal.

  Mrs. Mayberry woke up staring at a crimson red sky. Her form had completely changed… Mrs. Mayberry was now a purple demon with stripped curved horns on her head, wearing rectangular glasses. She wore a pale red shirt with x stitches on it, along with an eye where her pendant was. Her hair was long and white and pulled back with a black bandana. She wore a dark skirt with an upside down cross on it and heels. She also had sharp yellow teeth.

 After finding a place to live and shying out of sight from shady strangers, Mrs. Mayberry had the chance to continue her career where she left off. So she did. It took some learning and adaptation to Hell’s culture but fortunately...it was pretty simple.

 Mrs. Mayberry was soon hired at “Pentagram Penitentiary Place,” one of the top public schools in the district. It was a large school for grades K-12. The name of the school was in black letters surrounded by a red downward facing pentagram over the black front doors. “All grades in one place!” read the slogan. The building was of red-orange brick with three rows of low cracked windows facing the front. The outdoor playground consisted of rusted basketball hoops, a jungle gym, dark asphalt and a swing set that made squeaky sounds every time it was used. The slide was high up and made of metal, so that it was always painfully hot for the young demon children to slide down. A barbed wire fence with swirls of wire at the top surrounded the prison-like school.

 A bunch of middle schoolers were bouncing a demon skull around and tossing it into the basketball hoops. Little preschooler demons rough-housed on the grass-less ground, laughing. One small green dragon kept making burping sounds, emitting orange sparks much to the delight of his peers.  A dinosaur used his tail for a black eyed doll girl to use as a jump rope. There was even a little scary-go round that furry bird-like kids went on to test their flying and spin out of control in the air. One white bird crashed against the fence and slid down with a flop.

 “Loser!” taunted a bulky blue cyclops kid wearing a baseball cap. He spat on the bird’s upside-down head and laughed with his goons. An older demon with a rhino’s horn was spray-painting teal blue penises on the walls.

 “Watch your back!” he called out to a centaur who fired an arrow from a bow, startled. The green lizard demon tied to the target glanced down at the arrow that had almost gotten him in the crotch. He sighed with relief, only to have an ax lodged into his head, thrown by an orange goat teenager.

 Nearby were two purple demons with silvery snake hair sitting on a concrete window ledge, wearing blouses, sequined navy skirts and shoes. They were listening to music from their Eye-Pods. One of them was painting her nails and the other took a drag from an e-cigarette. Every kid had a multiple digit number temporarily tattooed on their necks. An E, an M and an H were before the numbers, for elementary, middle and high school. The following number indicated their grade and the last two numbers were their position in alphabetical order. K or a P next to the E stood for kindergarten and preschool.

 A loud buzzer rang at the top of the roof, signaling class starting. The children were lined up in front of their respective teachers. Mrs. Mayberry stood in front of her line of preschool demons.

 After singing a song about a demonic turtle drowning in a bathtub with the class, she counted each child as they made their way to homeroom. They all filled in and sat at their wooden desks. The demonic alphabet was listed on a nearby poster with translations into English and other languages.

 “Good morning!” Mrs. Mayberry trilled in the windowless classroom, scrapping her chalk against the blackboard before catching it with a twirl. “I hope you all did your homework.”

 The kids fearfully nodded.

 “Hmm, I don’t think you did, EP-04,” she scolded a demon boy wearing an orange shirt with no paper in front of him. “Go sit in time-out.”

 The boy groaned and sat on a stool facing the wall. The white dunce cap burned on his head.

 “The pledge of allegiance,” Mrs. Mayberry led. The class stood up with their hands on their hearts.

 “I pledge allegiance and my soul to the banner

Of His Majesty Lucifer and Her Majesty Lilith

And to the unholy Inferno

For Pentagram City

One nation under Satan

Indivisible

With liberty and chaos for all!”

 They sat back down.

 “Now let’s sing,” Mrs. Mayberry ordered.

 The demonic class broke out into song:

 “We love to do our homework and learn stuff every day.”

 “And when I throw in these hard questions, you should know just what to say,” Mrs. Mayberry sang.

 “Okay!” they cheered.

 She wrote an equation on the board. “Divide this number by…”

 “Zero!”

 “Our favorite paint is…”

 “Bloody red!”

 “And when there’s a stranger danger…”

 “You stab them in the head!” they answered, making stabbing motions with their arms.

 “A poison for a deep sleep?” she asked

 “Wormwood! Does no good!”

 “The geological components of Hell?”

 “Fire and brimstone!” added a girl.

 “If you can’t use love…”

 “Use hate!”

 “Now it’s time for us to say the day and date.”

 “Your death day was on January 8th, right?” piped up a boy in the back.

 Mrs. Mayberry stopped short. “Hush up! We don’t mention that date.” She turned to the class. “Go on.”

 “It’s 3 in the afternoon…” said a boy.

 “On October 31st,” said a green girl.

 “Hell’s heat is still hot,” said another girl, sweating.

 “Let’s watch the episode first!” reminded the dunce boy.

 The demons went “la la la” as Mrs. Mayberry stared at the board, red eyes wide.

 “Oh my suns! Stop singing children. Shut up!”

 The demons fell silent.

 “I forgot it’s the new episode! I’m supposed to be off to pursue my revenge!”

 “Maybe you could scare your enemies at a death-day party!” a girl suggested with her hands up in the air.

 Mrs. Mayberry looked at her hell-phone and saw the last seconds of an I.M.P. commercial. She stood up to walk away.

 “Wait! Mrs. Mayberry,” said a girl, taking hold of her hand. “Remember what you taught us. Act before you think.”

 Mrs. Mayberry pat her head. “I think not. Work on your timestamps and assignments, children. I’m off to pursue a little education of my own.”

 A horn-covered sub man walked in and bellowed, “200 pushups on the double! Or it’s back to your cells!”

 The demons got up from their seats and bent down to do the pushups.

 Mrs. Mayberry called a taxi outside and it drove her off.

 Up on a screen outside her window, Mrs. Mayberry saw a full commercial where she learned of an assassination company called I.M.P.

 “Hi there, I’m Blitzo, the “o” is silent and I’m the funder of I.M.P.! Are you a piece of shit that got sent to Hell? Or are you an innocent soul who just so happened to get fucked over by someone else?”

 The next shot showed a bulky red demon with horns, wearing a white Ohio shirt/jersey. A sign read, “Some guy who hired us!” The demon spoke:

 “After lovingly killing my wife for fucking a delivery man, you could imagine my surprise when I wound down here, after the State of Ohio killed me.” He rammed his meaty fists. “I really wish I could stick it to that yappy jogger who saw me hiding the body!”

 “Guess I’m not the only one who murdered my spouse,” she thought. “I’ve also never seen a guy with…such muscles before…”

 Blitzo appeared again. “Well luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world…we promise to take care of your unfinished business by taking out anyone who may have screwed you over when you were alive!”

 The sounds of the imp jingle motivated Mrs. Mayberry as the taxi pulled to a stop in front of the I.M.P. building. She got out, climbed up the stairs and knocked on the office door. It opened and out popped Blitzo.

 “Is this I.M.P.?” she asked.

 “Yes,” Blitzo said.

 “I figured, since I saw the commercial. I have one bad bitch that needs to be killed. And I’ve got a lot to say.”

 “Well, come on in then,” he said.

 Mrs. Mayberry paced Blitzo’s office at I.M.P. headquarters as she told her story.

  “I was a good person before it all went down,” she narrated, pacing to and fro. “I was good my entire life.”

 She continued on, adding details about her personal life. She held a cigarette in her hand. Apparently, it was easy to get into unhealthy habits in Hell.

 “You do everything right in life, play by the rules, and still get sent down here with all the Hitlers and Epsteins of the world. After one measly massacre propelled by blind rage. So that’s why I’m here. To get my revenge.”

 “I mean was she hotter?” Blitzo remarked with a smirk.

 The demon’s eyes flared red in anger, her face partially in shadow by the drawn blinds. A lemon tree was in the background with a sign that read “no whores” beside it. Blitzo casually lounged in his office chair.

 “I’m just saying I had a hard time understanding the unprompted melodrama you just spat at me, tits,” Blitzo chuckled.

 Mayberry growled and her body briefly glowed red. Her cigarette bent in her hand.

 Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Anyway I don’t think you quite understand how we’re operating down here.” He stood up and Mrs. Mayberry glared at him. “You see we take revenge on the living and it sounds like the core cast of your sitcom of a death frankly are all probably down here in Hell with you. Boop.”

 He bonked her on the nose.

 Mayberry’s pointed tail twitched, her purple claws clenched. Her skirt was torn with holes and her feet were cloven hooves. This imp guy was worse than the demonic children she taught.

 Mayberry extended her left claws. “Not all of them. That whore survived. Now they all call her a hero.”

 She continued. “Between the talk shows and bullshit donations she made so much goddamn cash. Getting shot was the best thing to happen to her.”

 Mayberry bashed her fists into the ground, creating cracks. “She’s not a hero!” Mayberry yelled, getting in close to Blitzo’s face.

 “Yeah, okay, yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Blitzo stuttered in a rapid nervous voice. He frantically pressed a red button under the desk multiple times. The red light flashed under the “Deranged Client” label on a dashboard. The other labels read, “More Coffee,” “Soiled My Pants,” “Horny Client,” “Client Giving Birth,” “Ghost,” and “Stolas.”

 Blitzo later burst through the door, followed by Mrs. Mayberry. “Guys, I’d like you to meet, our newest client!”

 The room suddenly burst into flames…Blitzo was furious. He quickly led Mrs. Mayberry outside where she hopped into a taxi to wait back home.

 “Bye and don’t worry,” called Blitzo to her, “We’ll get that skank in less than 24 hours or your first kill is free!”

 She could only hope that crazy imp and his team could do their job.

 As it turned out, Mrs. Mayberry later found out that not only had I.M.P. killed Martha, they also killed her crazy Satanic family. Mrs. Mayberry was very impressed. She held a piece of cake and laughed with the I.M.P. members for a special celebration. Millie talked about how it was okay to kill someone if they tried to kill you back.

 “That’s messed up,” mentioned Mrs. Mayberry. Then she smiled. “But I paid for it!”

 Everyone laughed again. Mrs. Mayberry felt good among her new allies. She had embraced her past at last.

 After the celebration, she got back into the taxi but instead of heading home, she headed further into town.

 There was a red Ohio demon for her to thank.

 Part Two: The Imps’ Adventure

In another room, Moxxie was holding a black and red crossbow in his hands. In front of him was a picture of a smiling family: a father, a mother, a baby and two children. His arms were shaking as the reflector hovered around the man’s crotch area.

 “Moxxie, stop shaking!” Millie chided. “You’re gonna shoot our only hellhound!”

 Loona lay on her back on a gray couch. The family picture was in one hand and her phone was in the other. On the wall were drawings of Blitzo as a horse and a drawing of Robo Fizz with an arrow sticking out from it.

 Loona spoke in a sarcastic tone, “Wow. I feel so loved here.”

 “Just take a deep breath,” Millie told Moxxie, inhaling, “and let it out.”

 “But, it’s a family,” Moxxie argued. “Under what circumstances would we ever need to kill a human family?”

 “I mean if that’s what the client wants,” Millie began.

 “Maybe like a shitty dad,” Moxxie suggested. “Or a mob family.” He spoke through his teeth, “That’s understandable.” He then spoke normally. “But to eradicate an entire innocent, seemingly innocent, upper middle class family bloodline?”

 Loona stared at the picture for a moment before pointing to Moxxie.

 “Hey! You don’t know their innocent.”

 She pointed to the boy. “This kid probably sets dogs on fire.”

 She pointed to the girl. “Maybe this girl gets off to bullying Australian kids online.”

 She pointed to the father. “And this guy…” She narrowed her eyes and spoke lower. “This guy definitely watches.”

 “Exactly!” Millie agreed. “Humans are full of secret nasties. It’s why so many of them end up here. But guilty and innocent aren’t our business, Mox.” She cupped his cheeks. “Killing who we’re paid to is our business. Choose a target.”

 She kissed him before stepping aside. Moxxie positioned his crossbow again.

 “I just think it’s a bit excessive and we could be a bit more selective, is all.”

 Just then, Blitzo barged into the room, followed by Mrs. Mayberry.

 “Guys! I want you to meet…”

 Startled, Moxxie fired the arrow and it ricocheted around the room. Millie jumped into Moxxie’s arms as the arrow hit a computer. It then flew and poked a hole in the family picture that a startled Loona held. The arrow made impact with the bottom of an eel tank, causing it to wobble dangerously. The arrow speed toward Mrs. Mayberry but Blitzo calmly caught it in one hand.

 “…our newest client!”

 The eel tank suddenly fell down, glass and water pouring onto the floor. The eels burst with electricity, casing the room to erupt in flames. Loona, Moxxie and Millie cowered in fear.

 “Dammit, Moxxie! I just bought those eels!” Blitzo yelled in anger.

 Soon, imp firefighters rushed to the scene to put out the flames as the group waited outside. The firefighters also carried the eels away to their red fire truck. Although imps were immune to fire, the buildings were not.

 Mrs. Mayberry climbed into a taxi cab.

 “Bye,” Blitzo waved, “and don’t worry, we’ll get that skank in less than twenty four hours or your first kill is free!” He waved as the taxi drove away.

 “When did we start implementing that deal?” Moxxie asked.

 Blitzo turned to glare at him. He pulled him close, holding his face.

 “When you set fire to my office in front of a…” Blitzo screamed, “client, you fucking dipshit!" He shoved Moxxie out of the way in anger. “Now someone please tell me that fancy book is still intact!”

 Loona stood against the wall, typing on her phone. “You mean our only ticket to the other side?” She pulled out a blue book from behind her. “Yeah, got it.”

 Blitzo came over to her and started to baby talk to her. “And that’s why you’re my favorite, Loony. You get a treat now.”

 He held up a dog treat in his hands, tossed it in the air and caught it with his long tongue.

 “Ew, stop it,” Loona said with disgust. Blitzo pulled the biscuit into his mouth and chewed.

 “You’re so gross!” she remarked.

  A nearby billboard with Blitzo’s face on it read with misspellings: “Goat an asshole in the living worlds!? Come to I Am Pee!!??! Make sure you put this sign up on the rite side. Don’t fuck this up. Also payment may take a couple of weeks because it cums in the mail. –Speech to text- -Blitzo”

 Millie drew a pentagram with chalk onto the wall. The pentagram glowed red and a portal to the human world appeared.

 “Aw stop it, I get enough of that from my therapist,” Blitzo told Loona before she left. He mentioned to the other imps, and moved his fist in front of him. Now let’s go lick some ass!” He pressed his hand into Moxxie’s face.

 “The expression is “kick some ass.” Blitzo,” Millie mentioned before she stepped through the portal. Blitzo let go of Moxxie’ face.

 “Mine’s better,” Blitzo said before following her.

 “Aw, fuck,” Moxxie sighed as he followed them through the portal.

 All three imps stood in front of a small red house by the lake as the sun set. Blitzo and Moxxie leaned against the side of the house, rising from the bushes. Blitzo stood up and peered into a window. A row of white flowers were on a planter on the ledge.

 “That’s gotta be her,” Blitzo whispered. He then chuckled darkly. “This is too easy.” He looked over at Moxxie. “Moxxie, do you want this one?”

 Moxxie looked stunned and smiled nervously. “Me?”

 “Yeah, this one’s simple enough for you to handle. It’s just a happy mother who just got out of the hospital.”

 Moxxie stood up and looked through the window. His face fell as he looked at the happy family enjoying dinner. A pig’s head was at the center of the table. The house was decorated with axes and guns on the walls. A lamp stand seemed to be made out of a spinal column. Ralphie and Martha affectionately rubbed each other’s noses, Martha holding a dinner platter in her hand. Moxxie hesitated; there was no way he could kill any one of them.

 “You snooze you lose, Mox!” Blitzo called out.

 He got out his gun, which was black with flames painted on it. The reflector was an upside down cross and it hovered over Martha’s face. She smiled with large doe eyes and blinked innocently.

 “And I’ve got you, bitch,” Blitzo murmured.

 “Wait, are we actually killing a family?!” Moxxie asked in disbelief.

 “No, don’t be a puss, we’re just killing a mother,” Blitzo remarked. “We’re running a family.” He grinned and clicked his rifle, positioning it.

 “But…” Moxxie began. “Hold on, hold on, let’s just think about it…”

 Moxxie lifted up the rifle just before Blitzo fired. The bullet hit a glass mirror in the house, causing the family members to gasp in fear.

 “What was that, Ralphie?” Martha asked her husband, who sat at the table.

 Ralphie shook his head. “I don’t know Martha, but whatever it is…”

 He stood up with a sharp-toothed grin, holding a rifle in his hands.

 “They’re gonna be tomorrow night’s dinner!”

 Martha set the platter down on the table, downed a glass of wine and smashed the glass on the floor.

 “Alright, kids! Gun’s out!” She called with an evil grin. The kids, too, grinned evilly as they pulled out smaller guns. The boy pulled out his from his brown beaver-skin hat.

 “Looks like we’ve got some rabbits to catch, youngins!” Ralphie said with an evil chuckle.

 Back outside, Blitzo was fuming. “What the fuck was that, Moxxie?”

 Moxxie breathed anxiously before letting out a croak, his snake-like tongue flickering. He fell to his knees, hands over his face.

 “I’m sorry. They just seemed so wholesome and happy.” Tears fell from his eyes. “I panicked.”

 Blitzo face-palmed. “Oh who the fuck is innocent, Moxxie? From the moment of birth, you’re already a parasite leeching off your momma’s tits.”

 He grabbed his chest in an imitation of holding breasts. He leaned in and poked Moxxie painfully on the head. “Now get the fuck over yourself you baby dick prick!”

 A bullet fired through the wall and shot Blitzo in the arm. He cried out as black blood splattered.

 “A new hole!” Blitzo cried in terror. “Scatter!”

 Blitzo and Millie leapt into the air just as another gunshot created a larger hole in the wall. A grinning Martha and Ralphie leapt through the hole and chased after them, guns drawn. Moxxie peered out from behind the bush, rapidly looking around. A child’s hand grabbed Moxxie’s pointed tail and he yelped. He only saw a barrage of fists from the children before passing out.

 Millie flipped backwards along a cobblestone trail before diving into the lake.

 “There you go, little critter!” Ralphie called, firing another bullet. He stepped onto the wooden dock. “Y’all can’t hide long from me!”

 Millie had her head above the water under the dock, a knife in her mouth. She broke through the dock with a crash before landing with a grin, knife at the ready. Ralphie swing a beer bottle at her, but she moved behind him out of the way. Millie jumped up in the air, knife in both hands. Ralphie swung the bottle upwards, hitting her in the head. The glass shattered and she fell to the ground with a loud yelp. Millie struggled weakly to stand, but collapsed onto the dock, eye twitching. Ralphie grinned down at her as the sky spiraled red. He picked her up and headed deep into the woods.

 Moxxie opened his eyes and gasped with a squeak to find his hands and body tied with rope. He appeared to be tied to a stitched up headless dead body sitting on a chair. Moxxie’s face fell in fear as he stared at the boy and girl in front of him. Both their eyes were red and devious grins formed on their faces.

 Moxxie tried to defuse the fear. “Oh. Hello there little ones. Aren’t you cute?”

 The children spoke in low distorted voices, the boy finishing shortly after the girl.

 “It’s nice to have a new critter to play with.”

 Moxxie glanced up in terror at a red spotlight above him. The light revealed a human head high up and several limbs on plaques. The wooden walls were stained with red blood. Tow plaques held stitched up faces of skin. A larger plaque displayed a dead man with long white hair, arms crossed, eyes and teeth bulging out. His upper chest was connected to the plaque. A picture frame made of bones displayed another face made of skin inside it. Human skin was tacked to the wall with “bless this mess” stitched onto it. Moxxie looked and saw a dead human body on a platter, an apple in its mouth. Organs were displayed in a nearby bowl.

 Moxxie took one look at the dead body and whimpered. “Aw. Crumbs.”

 Meanwhile, Blitzo was running for his life in the woods. Four gunshots rang out as Blitzo darted through a bush, leaves falling to the ground. Martha’s evil echoing laughter quickened his pace. The imp slide down a grass hill, landing on his feet. He crouched under the bushes, looking around. He panted, catching his breath.

 “I know you’re hurtin’, little devil,” drawled Martha in a sing-song voice.

 Blitzo darted behind a tree, taking in deep silent breaths. His back was pressed against the bark. He covered his mouth, not daring to move.

 “I promise that I can make that pain go real quick.”

 Martha walked through the woods, not too far away, in shadow. “Just come let Mama Martha put a bullet in that pretty little skull!”

 Blitzo sighed in relief after hearing the footsteps fade.

 Ring! Ring! Ahh!

 A startled Blitzo scrambled to retrieve his yellow cell-phone, which was ringing a yelling ringtone. He eventually caught the phone before pressing it to his ear. The phone had a GFY (Go Fuck Yourself) on it and a laughing devil emoji with imp horns.

 “This is a really bad time,” Blitzo whispered.

 At Stolas’ palace, the owl prince was currently lounging in an ornate bathtub, several lit candles with blue flames positioned around the edges. Astrological symbols glowed white in a circle on the floor. The midnight blue curtains looked like the night sky, with starry designs on them. Floating constellations hovered around the room. He was the prince of astronomy as well as being horny.

 “When isn’t it a bad time, Blitzy?” he mused, stretching his long slender arm. He held a rotary phone to his ear, the speakers shaped like sunflowers.

 Blitzo sighed in frustration. “What is it?”

 Stolas’ four red eyes blinked. “I’ve been meaning to follow up on our last conversation regarding my grimoire?”

 Blitzo’s angry face appeared in a bubble.

 “What did you just call me?” Blitzo asked. Stolas popped the bubble with a finger. “My book, Blitzy. The book I was given to do my job that I have allowed you to use to do yours?”

 Blitzo ducked as a bullet flew through the tree he was behind. Martha’s shadowy figure appeared in the hole, her eyes and mouth glowing red.

 “I can hear ya, darling!” she called out.

 “Shit,” Blitzo muttered, scurrying off.

 “Anywho,” Stolas continued. “I have been thinking. You know, I have been permitting you to access the mortal realm less than legally for quite some time now, but I do need it back to fulfil my duties. I was thinking, what if we worked out some sort of exchange?”

 He ran a finger along the edge of the tub. He then did a walking motion with his fingers as they glowed red.

 “Favors for favors? Doesn’t that sound…” He spoke seductively, “…enticing?”

 Blitzo skidded to a stop as another bullet hit a tree. He ducked behind another one and frantically whispered, “You gotta stop using your fancy-ass rich people talk, okay? I’m trying to concentrate on not getting fucked in my hay!”

 Bam!

 Another bullet hit a spot on the tree.

 “Then let me keep it simple,” Stolas explained. “Once a month, on the full moon, you return the book to me, followed by a night of…”

 His eyes glowed red, his beak open in lust…

 “…passionate fornication.” He briefly slid lower in the tub with a blush before rising up to lean against the tub.

 “And…you get to keep it the rest of the time. Sound fair my little imp?”

 “Fine, whatever!” Blitzo replied.

 Blitzo let out a happy sigh. “Oh Blitzy! I’m so excited! I cannot wait to fill your slimy **** inside of my *****…”

 Blitzo cringed as Blitzo went on about the sexual things he planned to do to him.

 Out of nowhere, Blitzo found himself being pinned against the tree by the bottom handle of Martha’s gun.

 “Got ya!” she grinned. Bltzo’s phone was on the ground, Stolas still talking.

 “So, you’re a little devil, huh?” she asked, a wide grin. “Come to drag me and my kin to Hell? Well not today, Satan!”

 She pressed the gun further into Blitzo. “Gonna send y’all back where ya came from!”

 She hit Blitzo hard and he slumped to the ground. She took him and headed off into the woods.

 Back at the house, Moxxie struggled to free his tied up hands and body. In the reflection of the window, he could see the orange yellow lights of fires. He gasped.

 “Millie!”

 The two kids stared deviously at him. He froze when the girl revealed a long sharp knife in her hands. Moxxie glared, determined. As the girl raised the knife, Moxxie shoved her backwards with the chair. There was a thud as the chair toppled over onto the floor. Moxxie grabbed the knife and cut the rope loose, freeing himself. A “Live, Laugh, Love” sign and a hangman’s noose hung from the wall. Moxxie burst through the round window, a shadow silhouette with glowing yellow eyes. Wasting no time, he raced into the woods and toward rows of torches. Hanging from the trees were red Satanic symbols. There were also tents around the area.

 A full moon appeared in the sky from behind thin clouds. Down below, Blitzo and Millie were tied to a stake decorated with black spikes at the top. Ralphie laughed as he poured gasoline onto the ground by their feet. Martha stood nearby, holding a torch in her left hand. Her blouse was torn and low cut, with polka dots on them. Her eyes were red and she wore skull earrings.

 Blitzo groaned in frustration. “I had that fucking shot. God dammit, Moxxie.”

 “Satan!” Martha declared. “We return your filthy creatures back to the pits of Hell!” She raised her torch. “May the root of evil remain honored as we continue thy work!”

 Martha tossed the torch underneath Blitzo and Moxxie, who still struggled to free themselves. Ralphie laughed again. The stake soon lit up in flames…

 …leaving the imps unscathed.

 “Yeah, that’s not exactly how it works, lady,” Blitzo explained. “Sorry, your fire doesn’t really hurt us, but I mean I could fake it if that’ll get your dick hard.” He smirked and Millie giggled.

 “Oh. Shit.” Martha stared confused and rolled her eyes. “I don’t have one.”

 Then she got a better idea and grinned. “Well, I’ll just shoot you in your smart-ass mouth!” She held her rifle in her hands.

 “That would be more effective,” Blitzo mentioned.

 “Blitzo!” Millie spat.

 Martha laughed again as she raised the rifle, two barrels pointing at the imps. The imps closed their eyes and flinched.

 A loud bang and a yelp was heard. Martha’s eyeball flew from her socket and she collapsed to the ground.

 “Moxxie!” Millie cried, seeing Moxxie hold a gun in his hands. Moxxie raced over and untied Millie and Blitzo.

 “You’re not getting your goddam paycheck for this one, Mox!” Blitzo mentioned before he fell down. Moxxie and Millie embraced each other with small smiles. They slowly moved their heads against each other in affection. Ralphie tripped over Martha’s body before fleeing the scene.

 “Oh yeah, thanks! I’m fine!” Blitzo spoke out in sarcasm.

 Moxxie helped Blitzo up, supporting him.

 “I’m sorry, sir. I compromised our objective and put us in harm’s way. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

 Blitzo pulled Moxxie into a hug. “Apology accepted.” Then he spoke to Moxxie in a low threatening voice. “But if you ever pull off a stunt like this again, I’ll fuck you and your wife.”

 Just as fast, Blitzo separated from Moxxie and announced, “Alrighty! Job well done! Now let’s get off.” Millie lifted her arms in a cheer. From his chest, Blitzo pulled out a gray horse figure with a back mane like a My Little Pony toy. He put it back and retrieved his cell phone.

 “Eh. Yeah give me a moment. I need to get something I left at the house,” Moxxie said.

 “Okay, fine but hurry up,” Blitzo said. He put his cell phone to his ear and spoke loudly, “Loona! We’re ready to come home, dear!”

 Moxxie raced through the woods, determined to set things right. In the background, Stolas was talking to Blitzo, mentioning, “You and I on…peanut butter and jelly sandwiches all night.”

 Back inside the house, the boy and girl were in their father’s arms in a corner.

 “Don’t move!” Moxxie demanded, pointing his rifle at them. The boy and girl looked scared and innocent. The girl even had a dark gray stitched up teddy bear with her.

 Ralphie chucked. “What are you gonna do, little guy? Kill us?”

 “I should!” Moxxie replied, stepping back. “You people are monsters!” Then he lowered the rifle. “But… you should have a chance at a life and a purpose. Look at your children. They have their whole future ahead of them! You are going to face your crimes, justly.”

 He picked up a remote from a stand. “I am calling your earthly authorities and they will make sure you are dealt with, fairly. I am handing this, my way.”

 He pressed a button and a television turned on in the adjacent room. A black and white program played. Moxxie gasped in surprise, then looked down at it.

 “Oh shit,” he muttered. The black remote had pink and white buttons reminiscent of a smiling goofy face.

 “Uh do you…do you have a phone to summon 911?”

 “Yeah, it’s in the kitchen,” Ralphie mentioned behind him.

 Moxxie held the remote. “Then what’s this for?”

 “It’s a universal remote,” Ralphie replied. “Got it for the kids.” The kids smiled and he pulled them in a hug.

 “Aww,” Moxxie smiled, eyes shining.

 He called the police and hurried back to the portal in the dark woods.

 “There he is,” Blitzo said. “Have a good wank-off session, Moxxie?”

 “Excuse me?”

 Blitzo walked over to him. “Well I don’t care where you cum in the living world, just come to your job on time, alright?” He poked Moxxie several times for emphasis. “See you at the office!” He ran through the portal.

 Millie placed a hand on Moxxie’s cheek. “You doing okay, sweetie?”

 “Better now, honey,” Moxxie replied with a smile. “I think I just needed a minute to process.”

 Millie tenderly touched Moxxie’s chest. “You have a good heart, honey.” She playfully pinched Moxxie’s nose. “Just a fuzzy head.” She kissed him and Moxxie’s heart fluttered. He smiled happily as Millie walked through the portal.

 Moxxie heard the whirl of blades and flashes of light. He turned around. There were police cars and a helicopter in front of the house.

 A voice over a loudspeaker said, “We got em’ boys!”

 A missile fired at the roof and the entire house exploded in a fiery inferno. Something hit Moxxie in the face. He stared at the ground and found the head of the teddy bear that had flown off. He stared with a shocked look of disbelief on his face. The family that had a chance to be better was now dead.

 Blitzo grabbed Moxxie hard by the neck and pulled him through the portal.

 Later on, everyone was laughing and celebrating back at I.M.P. headquarters. They were all wearing birthday party hats. Loona and Mrs. Mayberry held slices of cake on plates. A white banner read “Killed the bitch,” in red letters. A white and blue cake sat in front of Moxxie, the blue icing read “We did it! :)” Everyone seemed joyful except for Moxxie. He still felt awful that they had killed an entire family. An evil family, but still…They had come close to being killed or caught. Now here they were celebrating human death.

 Moxxie wasn’t sure if he agreed to the “senseless killing” morals of I.M.P. anymore.

 Millie squealed for joy and hugged Moxxie tight around the neck. “Did you see my little Mox, Mox? We did it! Oh Moxxie!”

 “Well here’s to another mission accomplished,” Blitzo announced, “…and Moxxie finally learned not to fuck up.”

 Moxxie just stared wordlessly at his plate, dark circles under his eyes.

 “And killing people isn’t that big of a deal if they try to kill you back,” Millie added, rubbing Moxxie’s white head of hair.

 “That’s messed up,” said Mrs. Mayberry, “But I paid for it!”

 Everyone except Moxxie chuckled at that.

 “Yeah, fuck that family!” Blitzo declared, raising a fist.

Helluva Boss Episode Two: Loo-Loo Land

Part One: Octavia

 Hundreds of years ago in Hell…Stolas’ Palace

  Before Octavia Goetia was a 117 year old owl princess (Mentally turned seventeen supposedly August 15 2003), she was a cute little child owl living with her mother and father.

 At night, faint blue constellations illuminated against the exterior of the estate. On the lower jutting wall structure supporting a balcony, Stolas’ sigil symbol also glowed blue in the dark. The balcony itself was spacious and decorated with hanging see-through drapes along the pillars. Spirals and a few eyes were also part of the design above the pillars. Bushes were lined up in rows on an upper row above the balcony, with little rows of coffin-shaped windows behind them in another wall. The borders of the building were decorated with difference phases of the moon in gold. Finally, the double doors on the balcony were stained glass in yellow and orange, with a sun on the left and a crescent moon on the right.

 Inside the estate, three candles cast a dim teal light in the darkened master bedroom. The spacious room had a white tall couch off to the side and a rotary phone on a nearby dresser. Hanging on the wall was a mirror and several large portraits of Stolas dressed in red robes and a crown. Rows of small red banners hung around the top of the bed and four red curtains with gold royal symbols were draped tight around the bed. The bedspread matched the curtains.

 “Mommy! Daddy!”

 A child’s cry from another room roused the owl prince from his slumber. One of his red eyes opened halfway, another one a slit near the top of his dark feathery head. His face was white and heart-shaped. He turned his head to where his wife was sleeping. She was a white owl with long eyebrows that extended past her face. She was curled up in most of the blankets.

 “Via’s calling us, Stella,” Stolas groaned sleepily.

 Stella let out a sigh. “You get up,” she replied tiredly.

 Stolas sighed and rose out of bed, briefly putting his fingers to his head. He opened the door to Octavia’s bedroom. The wallpaper consisted of several columns of moons and stars. Astronomy books lined a shelf while tapped drawings on the wall showed stick figures of Stolas and Octavia, labeled “Daddy,” and “Me.” A nearby portrait showed a smiling Stolas giving an overjoyed Octavia a piggy back ride against a blue background.

 Stolas opened the white door, wearing his red housecoat and a pair of demon face slippers.

 “Dear? What troubles you, my owlet?”

 Octavia’s room was small, with a bookcase and strings of lights hanging around. A white and pink chest and telescope were decorated with stray feathers. Her bed was decorated with small stars and a pink crown on the white headboard, sparkling curtains on either side. A stuffed cat lay on the floor. A lavender blanket with yellow stars on it was currently quivering on the bed. A small frightened face popped out from under the covers: little Octavia. She wore pink jammies with white stars on them. Her face was white and her eyes were large and pink with white pupils. Three gray feathers stuck out from her feathery head and she also had a little tail.

 The little girl sobbed and climbed out of bed.

 “Daddy! Daddy!”

 She ran into her father’s arms.

 “I had a dream! A really bad dream!” Her mouth quivered in a whimper.

 Stolas scooped her up into his arms and yawned.

 “A nightmare.”

 He wiped a tear away from her face.

 Octavia spread out her arms. “I was looking all over the palace and…I couldn’t find you anywhere! You weren’t there!”

 Tears appeared from her eyes and she hugged her father around the neck.

 “There, there, Via. It’s okay; you’re okay.”

 He pat her several times on the back and carried her into the room. A blue grimoire with a golden crescent moon on the cover floated into the room in a purple cloud of magic.

 Stolas sat down on the bed, Octavia in his lap. The book hovered next to him and he waved his hand to turn the pages. Stolas looked at Octavia.

 “When you’re sacred and you don’t know where I am, you must remember: I will never be far away from my special little Starfire.”

 He playfully poked her on the nose and she giggled.

 Stolas waved his hand and magic surrounded it. He moved his hand to the ceiling and created a starry portal above their heads. Octavia looked up with wonder in her eyes. It was then that Stolas started singing his lullaby: “You Will Be Okay.”

 “It always seems more quiet in the dark”

“It always feels so stark”

 Both of them floated upward through the hole. A brilliant indigo night sky filled with stars was revealed. A small bright sun and a distant ringed planet hovered in the distance. Stolas stood on the surface of a large white moon dotted with craters of various sizes.

 “How silence grows under the moon

Constellations gone so soon”

 Stolas’ feet made talon bird tracks on the surface as he carried his daughter.

 “I used to think that I was bold

I used to think love would be fun

Now all my stories have been told

Except for one”

 Stolas looked down at Octavia’s innocent eyes as their faces shone from the pinkish light of the nearby star. Octavia was the ongoing part of his life that Stolas continued to live for, day by day. In all the centuries of his long life, no sexual conquests, no battles nor royal duties could compare with the unique experience of raising a child. In a sea of constellations, Octavia was a guiding light to a greater purpose.

 The ringed planet hovered beside another planet bathed in purple-pink light. A rocky meteor caught on fire and soared toward a molten planet.

 “As the stars start to align

I hope you take it as a sign

That you’ll be okay”

 Stolas sat down on a small rock and held his daughter close.

 “Everything will be okay.”

 The meteor slowly dipped into the molten planet, turning a fiery orange. The meteor broke through the planet, causing it to break into rocky pieces. Stolas and Octavia sat on a floating chunk of rock as light burst upward from between the gaps of the planet debris.

 “And if the Seven rings collapse

Although the day could be my last

You will be okay. When I’m gone you’ll be okay…”

 Octavia yawned and nestled into her father’s feathery chest with a small smile on her sleepy face. Stolas knew that even a powerful demon like himself could not live forever. Angelic weapons could kill both Hell-born and Sinners in Hell. The higher class Hell-born could respawn like the Sinners but unlike the dead previous humans, the Hell-born aged slowly and could die of natural causes like mortals.

 Stolas was a part of a powerful ancient clan of demons, one of the first in Hell. The Ars Goetia brothers in arms were very numerous and powerful…desirable targets for enemies like Valentino and the lot. The family living for so many years didn’t lessen the potential sadness that permanent death would bring.

 Like any good parent, Stolas wanted what was best for his child; to pass down some existential knowledge for her to remember later on.

 “And when creation goes to die

You can find me in the sky”

 Seven planets flew toward the sun, creating powerful impacts. The planets turned ashen black before everything burst into an explosion of light. Stolas’ vocalizing face was illuminated by the large pink smoke from the galactic explosion.

 Tears pooled in Stolas’ eyes as the portal closed behind him, now back in the bedroom. A red and gold metallic model of a solar system hung from the back wall. Stolas lifted the starry blanket and draped it over a sleeping Octavia.

 “Upon the last day

And you will be okay…”

 Stolas walked toward the door, looking at her lovingly again before closing it. Octavia slept peacefully in her bed like a happy chick in a nest.

   Stolas’ palace, Dec 9 2020, present day

 Octavia jolted awake suddenly, her pink eyes angular with constricted white pupils. Her hand rested by her face. Her eyes narrowed in anger, her fist clenched as piercing yelling from another room echoed off the walls.

 Her parents were having yet another fight.

 She got out her phone and texted Loona: “Parents fighting again. Fuck my life.”

 Loona replied: “Srry 2 hear that. Currently dealing with asshole boss and Moxxie the dick. Hang out at concert Friday?”

 Octavia: “Hope so. Mom has grudge against imps and hellhounds, what a royal bitch.”

 Loona: “Smh. Hang in there, my friend.”

 Octavia knew that her regal mother, Stella was pissed that Stolas had fucked the imp Blitzo behind her back. Octavia often worried that Stolas would go on some honeymoon with that creature and leave her behind with Stella. Stella wasn’t cruel but she was sterner than Stolas was. Octavia didn’t know which was worse, her father’s childish attitude laced with a perverted nature…or her mother’s cold critiques of Octavia’s behavior. Stella loved her but expected her to mold into the royal role she was given from birth. Stella was more concerned with tea parties, fashionable attire and her appearance than Octavia’s many thoughts.

 Currently, Octavia was just a typical emo/goth teenager who had to deal with a lot of stuff going on.  

 Octavia’s room was different as well. More spacious, it had a couple of slanted windows between purple drawn curtains that let in some light. A solar system mobile hung from the ceiling in the center of the room. A mirror hung on the wall along with several banners with suns and moons on them. A long couch in the style of white feathers sat off to the side, complete with comfy cushions and pillows. There was a smaller purple telescope as well. Her bed still had the sparkling starry drapes and above that, were hanging purple drapes with a small moon on it and a large pink eye at the very top. Her bedspread was midnight blue with crescent moons on them and the chest by her bed was plainer than before.

 Octavia sat up in bed, with her feathers ruffled, quite literally as well as figuratively. With a grumpy look on her face, Octavia inserted earphones into her ears and held a blue phone in her hand, decorated with a yellow crescent moon. Octavia got dressed in her usual pink shirt with stars on it, black pants, shoes and a crown on her head.

 A playlist of songs appeared, the majority of them were by My Chemical Romance and some were by Lilith. An icon with flames and a sad face appeared on the screen and she pressed the play icon. Pop music played in her ears as a person sang: “My world is burning down around me.”

 The screams grew with intensity as she got out of bed and walked down a hall lined with Venus Fly Trap plants of different colors. They were arranged in a pattern of brown, magenta and purple. One poor potted planet crashed to the floor in front of Octavia. She stepped over the mess as she continued listening.

 She could hear the vehement arguments form her parents as she walked into the spacious kitchen.

 There was her mother, Queen Stella in a white dress with the top part of her outfit a light pink. A crown was on her head and light gray feathers fanned from her head like long hair.

 “I can’t believe you slept with an imp, in our fucking bed!”

 “It was unexpected!” Stolas replied. “I didn’t have time to go to a motel!”

 Stella seethed in disgust. “A motel?! Like a fucking plebian?!” (Roman word for commoner)

 “You want to fuck this one too?!”

 In a fury, she grabbed a small white dressed imp butler and tossed him at her husband.

 Stolas flinched, holding up his hands. “No! Of course not!”

 Stella pointed a finger at him. “You are a god damn embarrassment! I’m not spending another moment looking at your pathetic, imp-sucking face!”

 Stella stormed out of the room, tossing and breaking more of Stolas’ beloved plants as she yelled.

 Stolas sighed in exasperation before turning to look at his sulking daughter who was sitting at a table with a box of cereal.

 “Good morning, Octavia!” he greeted. “Did you sleep well, my owlet?”

 “Was that a serious question?” she deadpanned as she drank coffee from a mug.

 “Mm-hmm…” Stolas began as he walked to an old fashioned white refrigerator with the royal crest on it. He opened the door and took out a slab of zebra meat on a plate. In a corner shelf was a can of soda and a cartoon of chocolate milk. In a zip-lock bag were three white dead mice for a later snack. (They are owls after all!)

 “What’s that you’re listening to?” he asked, with a snap of his fingers.

 “This song is called “My World Is Burning Down Around Me.” It’s by Fuck You Dad. It’s a band.”

 “Oh…how charming…” Stolas chuckled bemusedly. He shut the door and fed the meat to a large white potted plant in a small alcove off the kitchen as he pet it. The satisfied plant closed its three eyes. A starry calendar hung on a nearby wall.

 “So…you two done screaming for the day?” Octavia asked.

 “Um…” Stolas began as Stella let out another scream of anger along with a crash.

 Stolas walked over to Octavia, who had a box of Robo Fizz’s Greed Seed cereal next to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You know what I haven’t done in a long, long time? I haven’t taken you to your favorite place in all of Hell! Why don’t we go to Loo-Loo Land?” He mentioned to a portrait of Stolas, Stella and a happy child Octavia in a dress at an apple theme park.

 “I’m not five anymore.”

 “You always were so happy when I took you to Loo-Loo Land! What do you say we go there again, have a day, just the two of us!”

 “I’d rather kill myself,” she deadpanned.

 “There we go!” Stolas beamed, bypassing her comment. “Anything but staying in this house.” He lifted a finger. “Now, I’ll arrange our security.”

 He picked up a white rotary phone carried on a platter by the battered imp servant.

 “Security for a theme park?”

 “We are rich, and we’re hot. People want our money and our bodies!”

 “Our money, maybe,” Octavia said under her breath. Stolas rotated the dial a few times.

 “Speak for yourself, Princess. Now, I’m calling the only man who can fuck me!”

 Octavia looked with disgust, cereal falling from her hand. “What?”

 “Who can protect me! Us. Being part of the Goetia family is rather valuable, you know.” The imp collapsed.

 Octavia groaned and pulled her hat down over her eyes.

 At the I.M.P. office, there was a picture of Blitzo wrapped in a towel with the words “#1 bitch” on it, with the word “boss” in red over the letters. A paper crown rested on one corner of the picture frame.

 Blitzo played with crude representations of Moxxie and Millie made of office supplies. “Millie” was made from a stick and clips while “Moxxie” was made from an eraser.

 “Oh, Blitzo, you’re such a good boss!” Blitzo impersonated Millie. “Yeah, I really want you sir,” he impersonated Moxxie. “Me too!” he said as Millie. “Let’s three-way!” he said as himself before lowering the office puppets to his crotch. The screaming ringtone of his cell-phone interrupted his pansexual fantasy.

 “What?!” he yelled into it. He lounged in his chair, legs propped up as he drank iced coffee from a bloodstained mug. A poster with SpindleHorse on hind legs with “Wild and Free,” hung from the wall.

 “Why hello, my big-dicked Blitzy!” Stolas spoke lustfully.

 Both Blitzo and Octavia forcefully spit out their coffee.

 Blitzo spoke angrily, “What…”

 Octavia said, “The…

 Blitzo: “Fuck…”

 Octavia: “Dad?!

 “Language! Everyone!” Stolas shouted out loud before speaking into the phone. “I have a special request.”

 “Aw look,” Blitzo mentioned, “I just had a chemical peel, so you’ll have to find someone else’s face to plant that feathered ass!” He was in no mood for another intimate session.

 “It’s for my daughter.”

 A session with Stolas’ daughter? “Ah, well make sure she washes it.”

 “Oh! No! No, no, no!” Stolas cried taken aback. “I’m taking my daughter to Loo-Loo Land and I was hoping you brave little imps would accompany us.”

 “We’re assassins, not bodyguards, okay? Don’t invite us to shit unless someone’s gonna die.”

 “I’ll pay you.”

 “With what?”

 “Money.”

 “Done!” Blitzo yelled in confirmation, accidentally smashing his phone against the desk. He glanced in annoyance at the shattered pieces before producing a white megaphone with a painted monster mouth on it. He put the crown on his head.

 “M and M, get in here! We’re goin’ to Loo-Loo Land!”

 Moxxie opened the door to respond. “Loo-Loo Land?” he asked in concern. An excited Millie smashed her head through the glass window of the office door. “Loo-Loo Land!” Her eyes were shining.

 “Loo-Loo Land!” Blitzo yelled excitedly through the megaphone, his long snake-like tongue flickering.

 “Shut the fuck up!” Loona yelled from another room.

      Part Two: Loo-Loo Land

Loo-Loo Land was a knockoff apple themed park located in Mammon’s Ring of Greed. The sky was blue instead of red like it was in the Ring of Pride. Indeed, there were Seven Rings in this Hell ruled by Archdemons and named after the Seven Deadly Sins: Pride, Envy, Lust, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, and Wrath. Only sinners could dwell in the Ring of Pride; it was Lucifer’s punishment since he hated mortals. Lucifer, Satan, Leviathan, Mammon, Asmodeus, Belphegor and Beezelbub were the Archdemons…but Lucifer was the Ringmaster of all of them!

 A wide array of attractions spun, lit up, whirled and roared to life, some of them reaching toward the sky. There was a large Ferris wheel with a large blue star structure in the center. A star flyer swing ride spun people on swings, while a towering red roller coaster contrasted against the blue sky. A brick tower displayed an eye with pointed ears on the top of it. A white and red stripped circus tent stood between two tall pillars with red painted caramel apples on top as part of the design. Two smiling red apples wearing straw hats were the pillars that flanked the entrance. A teal sign with blinking lights around the border read “Mammon’s Loo-Loo Land” in white, the last “o” hanging lopsidedly. A cardboard cutout of Robo Fizz had an extended hand in an arch holding a welcome sign. A sign read, “Legally he have to say this,” and another sign said “Not affiliated with Lu Lu World.” Another sign read “Money please!” by a ticket booth.

 A dark gray van pulled into a parking spot and Moxxie got out. He walked with a blank expression on his face, wearing a black suit and dark sunglasses like his imp colleagues. A bold red I.M.P. decal was spray painted onto the van door. Moxxie slid open the door.

 There was the hunched black silhouette of Stolas, his four red eyes glowing menacingly in the dark. He got out of the van, a happy tall owl wearing red shorts and a white Loo-Loo Land shirt. There was a brief silhouette of Octavia, her two eyes glowing violet. Octavia seethed in annoyance as she peered out through the door. Blitzo and Millie came along as well, getting up from the red seats. Stolas put on an apple hat with big eyes and excitedly mentioned for his daughter to come along. Octavia covered her face with her black hat before following.

 In a black suit and sunglasses, Blitzo strolled by Stolas with a serious expression as they walked by a booth that sold apple Loo-Loo hats. By a clock with a black crown on it that read 7:30 AM, was another booth with “Balloons Attack” on it.

 “Now remember, this is work and work only,” Blitzo reminded Stolas. “Me and my crew are not here to satisfy your perverted bird needs, alright?”

 “Hey, dad, do we have to…” Octavia complained before Blitzo cut her off.

 “Okay, yeah, hold on right there, sweetie.” He turned to Stolas, holding an accusing finger at him. “If you try fuckin’ my little ass in that park, I swear to…”

 Stolas leaned down and playfully tapped and booped Blitzo on the nose. “You are so cute when you are serious!”

 “I am literally going to be sick,” Octavia deadpanned.

 “Oh crumbs!” exclaimed Moxxie, rummaging through his small gray bag. “I knew today would be a lot! What do you need?”

 Moxxie fished around in the bag, retrieving pill bottles. “Antacids? Ibuprofen? Morphine?”

With a sharp toothed grin, Moxxie showed Octavia eight hypodermic needles with a glowing green substance in them.

 “That was figurative, old man,” Octavia replied, arms crossed before walking away.

 “Oh, right,” Moxxie chuckled sheepishly as he casually tossed the needles into a baby stroller by the cotton candy booth. A red baby imp wearing a bib with a pentagram on it stuck out his tongue and cooed as he reached playfully toward the deadly looking needles.

 “But she said it was ‘literally,’” Moxxie muttered under his breath.

 On a wall of a Plush booth were Robo Fizz posters and several taped signs that read: “Not Lu Lu World! Stop showing complaints,” “Does Lu Lu World have a sex robot? No! Stop asking!” “I would never do that to my BFF Lucifer.” “Everyone is so mean to me.”

 Millie took off her sunglasses and beamed. “Wooow! I haven’t been to this place since I was a tot!”

 An R on an “Apple Core Roll” sign fell off and squashed a poor teen imp below it. Moxxie flinched.

 “It hasn’t changed a bit! Oh! Look! It’s Big Lovely!”

 Near a gray Extermination booth with exterminator plush heads stood a blue animatronic T-Rex dinosaur wearing a shirt with a planet on it. It had yellow lopsided eyes. Three imps stood to watch it. It suddenly opened its mouth and let out a fierce roaring shriek.

 “That is…deeply upsetting,” Moxxie mentioned. Millie pulled him toward her. “Oh come on! It’s fun! You’ve never been here?”

 “No,” said Moxxie. “Theme parks always disturbed me. Especially the mascots,” he shivered.

 The park’s apple mascot suddenly appeared behind Moxxie. It was a large red apple with a big row of teeth with several holes in them. The top of the apple was green and a black top hat rested on top of the costume. The eyes were big, the black pupils shaped like Pacman symbols. The mascot also wore gloves.

 “Well hey there!” the mascot called in a goofy southern accent.

 Moxxie screamed in fright as the imps both turned around.

 “I’m Loo-Loo! Welcome to Loo-Loo Land!” said the mascot, spreading out his arms. “If y’all get hurt here, just try and sue us!” The mascot stood on an apple design on the ground as the animatronic head fell onto another imp. Stolas and Octavia stood near a carousel with monstrous looking horses and a small triceratops dinosaur. Some of the horses had bat wings, painted eyes all over and fiery shaped manes.

 Stolas’s eyes glowed with childish excitement, while Octavia stood embarrassed. “Look! Via! It’s Loo-Loo!”

 “I have a question,” Octavia stated, holding up a finger.

 The mascot leaned in close to her. “Well ask away, little girlie!” The mascot bounced around, an eyeball hanging out as he made “a-hyuk, a-hyuk a-hyuk” sounds.

 “Is it true this park is just a really shameless spin-off of Lucifer’s far more popular Lu Lu World?” Octavia smirked as Stolas looked at her with a pleading frown.

 The mascot paused. “No?”

 Octavia narrowed her eyes and scoffed. “This place reeks of insecure corporate shame.”

 Stolas chuckled in embarrassment before leading Octavia away. “Why don’t we go check out the rides?”

 “That chick’s creepy, huh?” the mascot asked.

 “Ah, wait till her dad tries to diddle your holes,” Blitzo deadpanned.

 “What’s that mean?”

 “Don’t talk to me!” Moxxie called in suspicion, poking a finger at him. “I know you’re a pervert under there!”

 Moxxie and Millie left. The mascot hung his body in dejection as he sighed “Yeah.”

 Moxxie and Millie headed down a pathway while a sweating Moxxie stopped to catch his breath. “You really like this place, huh?”

 “I love this place!” Millie exclaimed. “My parents would bring me and my siblings here, when they could swing it, Money-wise.” Willie and Lillie were Millie’s brother and sister and sometimes they were just as excited as she was. Unlike Blitzo’s mean father Donner and Moxxie’s parents, Millie’s parents tried to do what was best for their children while also attempting to survive.

  An imp wearing loose clothing and a baseball cap pushed a wheelbarrow full of money into a nearby toy shop. A nearby sign on a brick wall showed a Robo Fizz doll and the words, “New! Fizzy Buddy! He laughs, he sings, he swears! Tell your parents to buy me! Over 100 lovable phrases! Posable! Only 48% asbestos.”

 The two imps approach a window where apple plushies and apple shaped novelty cups with Ls on them were sold for $29.

 Moxxie mentioned, “Yeah, the prices do seem rather criminal. I mean, that much for a novelty cup you use one time?”

 “’Cause it’s Loo-loo Land!” Millie said excitedly. Blitzo walked over, slurping from a straw in a novelty cup. He wore a hat with an apple on it and two can holders and straws attached to it. Loo-Loo Land brought back memories of him and his sisters doing jokes and performing at the circus.

 “Listen to your ho’ Mox,” Blitzo said, mentioning behind him. “How ‘bout I take the first watch while you two…” he winked, “have a little fun.” Stolas held up a white shirt with an apple on it to Octavia who frowned.

 “Oh!” Millie cried. “We gotta do my favorite ride!” She picked Moxxie up and carried him as she ran.

 “Oh yeah? Whi-Which one?”

 Millie and Moxxie raced over to The Lawsuit roller coaster, the carts were red with the front displaying a green grin. The ride plunged at a sheer 90 degree drop while on fire. A lone rider hung on for dear life and screamed as the ride plunged into a tunnel in the ground. The mascot posed by a height rules sign. Later on, Moxxie threw up in a trash can as an angry vomit covered imp family glared at them. Even the red three eyed dragon from the petting zoo glared at Moxxie.

 Stolas happily carried a balloon in his hand while Octavia slouched on. They walked by a stand that read “Funnel Cakes: Eternal Suffering” with popcorn and a sausage on a fork. Blitzo snuck around like a secret agent with his sniper rifle. He appeared on a teal-green tent roof of an “Ice Cream Bugs” stand. Blitzo slid with his rifle and knocked over cups at a “Hot and Cold Drunks” stand. The imps glared at him as he toppled backwards onto the ground. A nearby blaster game was titled “Stop that Soul” and showed a frowning sun and cardboard angels in clouds with xs over their eyes. Another sign read “Hax Away.”

 Five grinning imps with knives and weapons peered out from an alleyway at Stolas, itching to kill him and steal the prince’s money. Blitzo slid along the floor, then glared at the imps, causing them to scatter away. Blitzo aimed his sniper again, near a game where imps could knock out mechanical clown’s teeth at “Teeth Off!” Stolas tilted his head upside down and stroked Blitzo’s horns from above. There was a game where one could toss balls into skulls and a ring toss with real spikes to toss them onto.

 “You know, it’s quite thrilling to see you on the job, Blitzy.”

 “Save it, bitch. I’m working.”

 Octavia rolled her eyes. “You both need to get a room.”

 “Hey!” Blitzo called. “I am not a day-hooker!”

 A nearby imp mother and her baby glared at Blitzo.

 “What? I just said I’m not one, prude!” He flipped her the bird. A nearby film sign read “Pirana.”

 Meanwhile, Moxxie and Millie walked along a line of booths, one read “Muppet” and one read “Knock a Bottle.” Millie suddenly beamed and pulled Moxxie toward another vendor. A smug imp wearing a yellow hat and a red shirt spotted them.

 “Hello, hello!” he called. “Step right up and win a thing!”

 Millie’s eyes shone as she gasped and pointed upwards. “Oh, look Moxxie! A thing!”

 The “thing” was a purple stuffed animal wearing pink overalls with stripped imp horns. It had a yellow beak, an upside down cross on it and a tag with “Thing?” on it.

 Moxxie looked at her with a grin. “Oh, you like that thing?”

 “Yessss!” Millie exclaimed, drawing out the word. “I don’t know what that thing is, but I want that thing!”

 Moxxie straightened his bow tie with a smug look. “Finally something I can handle.”

 He walked up to the vendor, took out some money and handed it to the carnie. “Okay! One game, please!”

 The carnie rolled his eyes and handed Moxxie a clown-like blaster with his tail. Moxxie pulled the trigger with one eye shut and the cork projectile hit the bullseye on the cardboard smiling apple’s behind. Millie clapped in the background. Moxxie made a “ricochet” noise and blew the black powder smoke clear of the gun.

 The carnie just grinned. “Strike one, little man!”

 Moxxie stared in disbelief. “But I hit it!”

 “Hmm, I don’t know what to tell you, buddy. The target, see? It didn’t go down. So yeah, no go, bro.”

 Moxxie slammed another dollar bill onto the counter, picked up the gun and fired again. He hit the bullseye but the cardboard apple stayed in place. He slapped the pistol in annoyance. “The Heaven’s wrong with this thing?!”

 The carnie smirked. “Oh man, a real shame I tell ya. Whaa, whaa!” He pretended to cry and rub his eyes.

 Moxxie hissed in anger and slapped another bill on the counter. “Another!”

 Again and again Moxxie tried to hit it, but the carnie rigged the game, not making the apples go down. Soon, the carnie was holding 600 souls of Moxxie’s money, the dollar bills had Robo Fizz on them. He rolled one bill up into a cigar and put it in his mouth.

 “Wow! Man, you’re really starting to make this sad. You know, if you suck, you suck! Guess you won’t win your honey here a prize.”

  Moxxie seethed in anger.

 “Let me try!” Millie said, taking the blaster from Moxxie. She fired it and the cork flew far off between the apples. The carnie grinned mischievously, and pressed a foot pedal, making an apple target go down.

 “Oh, look at that! Lucky shot, baby,” the carnie said. He wiggled the rolled up bill against Moxxie and dropped it. Millie laughed and clapped.

 Moxxie yelled, “Are you kidding me?! You…you…charlatan!”

 The carnie pressed his hand into Moxxie’s face. “Hey, uh get lost pipsqueak, I’m talkin’ to the lady.”

 He leaned toward her and made a purring sound, causing her to flinch back in disgust.

   Meanwhile, Stolas pulled Octavia close with a gasp, letting go of his balloon.

“Look, Via! You used to cry such tears of joy at this show!”

 Stolas mentioned to a large circus tent with promotional signs of Robo Fizz on either side. A mother imp tried to drag her crying child toward the tent.

 “Oh no…” Octavia breathed, her white pupils constricting. A flashback of when she was a young girl came back to her. She was pushed against the stage by other cheering imp children. Robo Fizz was a robotic imp jester who posed on the stage with his arms spread out. An animatronic band was behind him. A neon sign above read “Fizzarolli and Friends,” with the “R” burnt out which made it look like “Fiends.” Robo Fizz sparked and cackled, wiggling his fingers and leering over a crying Octavia. Off to the side, a scowling Blitzo was dressed in clown makeup and attending a food cart.

 Back in the present, Octavia and Blitzo muttered at the same time: “I hate that fucking clown!”

 Meanwhile, Stolas happily waved as he was being held captive in the air by the gang of imps pointing weapons at him.

 “Oh Blitzy! I need my bodyguard, please!” Stolas smiled unconcerned before another imp jumped up and put a purple cloth sack over the owl’s head. Another imp grinned and held Stolas’ wallet. One imp jumped, trying to skewer him with a pitchfork. Blitzo turned around and fired his rifle, shooting the imp in the torso. Black blood splattered against the cloth sack over Stolas’ head. The imps dropped him and quickly scattered away. Blitzo carried Stolas into the tent and set him down on a wooden bench before leaving. Octavia sat next to him, rolled her eyes and removed the blood-soaked cloth form Stolas’ head. The owl blinked, wondering where he was.

 Two spotlights merged into one on the stage and Robo Fizz flapped open the curtains. He wore a jester outfit and his horns were covered with stripped cloth and little bells hung from the ends. A happy face and sad face pin were by his shoulders along with a string of lights as a necklace. His pants were stripped and he wore gloves. His shirt had small white hearts near the bottom and his eyes glowed an eerie green.

 Six lit up arrow signs pointed to him and read: “Fizzarolli,” “Robot property of Mammon,” “Look at him go!” “Yes! Love 2 c it!” “Wow!” “He.”

 Robo Fizz held up a sign with “Lu Lu” crossed out in red with “Loo-Loo, the better one,” on it. He also briefly held out a red and gold contract signed by Mammon: “This is a statement regarding the unfair accusations that my theme park “Loo-Loo Land” is trying to profit off my friend and ruler Lucifer’s park Lu Lu World. This is false. These allegations are baseless and untrue. You are all just dicks. Fuck right off and stop saying that, alright? They are legally distinct. I checked. Signed Mammon.”

  “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey implings!” he said in his showman voice. “It’s me, the Robotic Fizzarolli! Shipped from Mammon’s factory to bring you a wonderful show celebrating Loo-Loo Land (spelled with O’s to avoid lawsuits!) Hit it!”

 Rows of spotlights lit up and he began to sing. The curtains opened and Robo Fizz’s Five Nights at Freddy’s band played. An open clown mouth served as the stage backdrop. Robo Fizz rapidly pointed at a boy imp and a girl imp and made his rounds toward Stolas and Octavia. He moved back to the stage just as Blitzo aimed his sniper at him in warning. The band played on a rising structure shaped like a cake, decorated with eyes and sharp spikes.

  “Loo-Loo Land, Loo-Loo Land!

Everybody sing along with the Loo-Loo band!

Every girl, every boy, every woman, every man

Loves Loo-Loo Land!”

 An animatronic bear and a smaller rabbit meshed together played a red banjo with a pentagram on it. A lopsided dinosaur played a guitar decorated with flames. A green frog with large human teeth played the Robo Fizz head drums and a brown dog played the triangle. The two speakers on either side were shaped like weapons and had skulls on them. “Fizzarolli and Friends” sign glowed at the top.

 “Loo-Loo Land! Loo-Loo Land!

Everything is beautiful in Loo-Loo Land!

Ugly children holdin’ hands

In Loo-Loo Land!”

 Robo Fizz briefly pulled a crowd of imps into a hug before spinning around and tossing them aside. They crashed back into the stands. He hugged the animatronic dinosaur which fizzled and slapped the bear and rabbit, which squirted black ink at a nearby imp.

 He poured gasoline onto a pile of “cease and desist” papers, causing them to go up in flames.

 “Everybody’s friendly, and nobody is mean

No copyright infringement’s ever seen!”

 In an imitation of Princess Charlie, Robo Fizz then posed on top of a piano. He stood on top, hand over his heart in the spotlight.

 “I have a dream (he has a dream)

I’m here to tell (he has to tell)

About a magical fantastic place called Loo-Loo Land!”

 He spun his body around and landed in a pose with arms and legs spread out. Octavia watched with disgust and boredom.

  “Loo-Loo Land, Loo-Loo Land!

Everybody sing along with the Loo-Loo band!

Every girl, every boy, every woman, every man

Loves Loo-Loo Land!”

 The show ended with a pyrotechnic display. Green flames ate up one of the curtains and Robo Fizz laughed as he did a final pose up front. Octavia leaned her head back and pounded her fist on the bench in annoyance. Stolas cheered and rapidly clapped.

 “Ohhohohoho! How delightful! Haven’t had this much fun since the last Harvest Moon Festival…” Octavia hid her face in her hat again.

 Behind Stolas, an imp armed with a wave-shaped keris sword rose from beneath the seats, ready to stab him. The imp’s head was quickly blown apart by Blitzo at the back seats.

 “Oh! My, what aim you have, Blitzy!” Stolas praised.

 “Ugh! I can’t do this anymore!” Octavia shouted in frustration.

 “Octavia!” Stolas reached out in concern as the owl teen stormed off. Stolas chased after her as Blitzo followed suit. Robo Fizz cackled as he spotted the imp dashing along.

 “Ha ha ha hoho-oh! Is that Blitzo my sensors spot up there?” He emphasized the silent “O” in his name. “I bet the kiddies are still running away from you, huh?”

He spun his head around in loops and cackled.

 “The “O” is silent now!” Blitzo stopped and yelled.

 Robo Fizz mocked him some more and did wild dance-like poses. “Uh huh! Just like your audience always was when you to-told your lazy jokes here!”

 Blitzo tossed his sunglasses aside. “I make more money killing people than you do being a cheap-ass ripoff of an overrated sell-out jester!”

 “Oh ho ho! Someone’s salty! Real or not though, people love me! Does anybody love you…”

 His face turned dark and his eyes glowed menacingly, grin stretched wide, “Blitzo?!”

 “No. But I’m really good with guns now!” Blitzo took out his sniper. “Dance, bitch!”

 Blitzo slammed a new magazine into his rifle, switched it to full-auto and opened up on Robo Fizz, who cartwheeled out of the way of the rounds. He rapidly spun like a wheel up the stairs to where Blitzo was. He coiled himself around Blitzo like a snake, before using his momentum to launch the imp out of the tent.

 “Fuck meeeee!” Blitzo yelled.

 Outside, Wally Wayford, an imp with a southern accent was selling lit torches. There were two posters of Robo Fizz, the first was “Fizzarolli and the Handy Dandies.”

The other showed Robo Fizz with handcuffs:  “Robo Fizz Personal Companion. Gives and receives. Ribbed for your pleasure. Real tentacle action. Ten speed vibration. BDSM feature. Machine Washable.”

 “Torches, I say, I say!” Wally said in a southern accent. “Get your inconvenient torches here!”

 Blitzo landed on the cart with a yell, which scattered the green torches everywhere.

 “Ow…I say ow!” Wally yelled.

 The flames lit the big top of fire. The flames rapidly spread to all corners of the park. Burning animatronics fled the tent as Robo Fizz cackled with demonic glee at the chaos.

 Back at the blaster game, Blitzo had crash landed through the roof and into the pervert carnie just in time, saving Millie.

 “Sir?” asked Moxxie, surprised.

 “Oh hey guys!” a dazed Blitzo replied. “You should probably go and uh…make sure Stolas is okay! I got some…unfinished business to take care of.”

 Blitzo stood up and drew a brown flintlock pistol and fired. Robo Fizz swayed creepily toward Blitzo, a red eye showing on his burning grinning face, green flames behind him. The impact spun Robo Fizz’s head around…but the jester was unharmed by the shot.

 “Oh what a mouth!” Blitzo exclaimed as Robo Fizz caught the bullet in his mouth and spat it out. Blitzo grimaced as Robo Fizz rolled at him again. Moxxie, Millie and Blitzo jumped out of the way as the jester hit the booth, destroying it in a large explosion. Shrapnel and several white imp head prizes flew through the air on fire. The piece of a stuffed animal hit a young imp boy on the head, leaving him unconscious. The photographer then snapped the picture of the imp family.

 “Goddammit Nathan!” the fat father yelled. “You ruined another bloody photo! Why were you even born?!”

 Stolas wandered around other booths: Aim and Fire Shoot Apple, Happy Ducking, and a bomb themed Knok Knok game. One was called Eggs in the Basket, Poison Apples sold caramel apples decorated like slimy skulls and a dunking game was called Drown the Sinner.  

 Stolas then gasped. “Octavia!”

 Octavia ran into a fun house shapes like an elongated head of Lucifer. The face was white with the blushes on the cheeks and the eyes were green and snake-like. The steps were positioned onto a long tongue and the fun house entrance was shaped like Lucifer’s fanged mouth. A top hat and an apple reading “Fun House” was at the top. Stolas followed her inside as two grinning imps held rope and weapons close behind.

 The neon interior was filled with eyes, tubes, swinging pendulums, mirrors and disembodied hands. Stolas went further into the room and looked around. A sign reading “Smile” had an arrow pointed down at a tunnel. A shadow appeared behind Stolas as a random imp jumped onto his shoulders.

 “Um, I think I’m supposed to be body-guarded right now!” Stolas said, annoyed.

The imp covered Stolas’ mouth with his shirt sleeve, but was shot in the head, falling to the ground. Moxxie and Millie appeared in the entryway, Millie had just shot the imp.

 “Ugh. That’s better,” Stolas said, brushing his sleeve. “Where is Blitzy? He’s my knight in shining armor, not you littler ones.” Even his apple hat got an annoyed expression on it.

 The imps came over to him, Millie hugging the thing stuffed animal. “He’s…uh busy.”

 “Being a fool,” said Moxxie.

 “What kind of fool?” asked Stolas.

 “The “everything is now on fire,” kind,” Moxxie replied.

 Stolas left the imps, dodging two swinging pendulums, and headed down a tunnel into an adjoining room filled with eyes on the wall. He then spotted Octavia sitting in one of four apple-themed rail cars, crying.

“Octavia…” Stolas breathed. He took off his apple hat and it fell to the floor, the goofy face now a sad face, reflecting Stolas’ emotional state.

 Stolas scooted next to Octavia, leaving a bit of space between them. “I take it you are…not having fun.”

 “I didn’t even want to come here!” Octavia protested.

 “I’m sorry, sweetie. I thought you loved it here.”

 Octavia glared at her father. “When I was a kid and my parents didn’t hate each other, and my dad didn’t flirt with some weird red dickhead the entire time.”

 Both owls looked downcast.

 “I’m sorry, Via,” Stolas said. “I’m sorry for everything happening right now. I know it’s a lot but I…uh…I should have listened.”

 “I just want to go home, but home doesn’t even feel like home anymore. You ruined it.” More tears fell from Octavia’s eyes as she shook her head and wiped more away with her arm.

 “You need to understand, you mother and I…” He stroked the back of his head, nervously. “I just…I felt…she’s always been…I haven’t been” He stuttered, “…we weren’t in…” He buried his head in his hands, “I’m sorry, I-I-I don’t have the words.”

 “Are you going to run off with him? And leave me behind? Go away where I can’t find you?”

 “What? No!” He pulled her close. “No, no, never. I’d never do that. Never.” Both of them embraced in a tight hug. “I think it’s time to leave this place,” Stolas said. Octavia smiled a bit through her tears. Despite his mistakes, her father loved her dearly. It wasn’t too hard to forgive him. Stolas lifted her up into his arms and continued, “You were right. You are too old for it, anyway.” He walked through an apple shaped opening.

 Stolas carried Octavia out of the Fun House as an imp grinned manically in the space above the drop-ceiling. The imp dropped down and flicked open a switchblade behind him. Stolas immediately turned around, his red eyes glowing brightly. The frightened imp was turned to stone on the spot, then was knocked over by a pendulum.

 As dusk feel outside, the park was reduced to pandemonium. Millie tried to shoot Robo Fizz who wildly rolled around. The red dragon picked up Robo Fizz, tossed him into the air before catching him and swallowing him whole. On the dragon’s back, Moxxie gaped in terror.

 Stolas and Octavia left the park gates.

 “So, what would you like to do now?” Stolas asked.

 Octavia smiled. “Oh, can we go to Stylish Occult? They sell weird taxidermy there.”

 “Hmm,” Stolas said reluctantly, but then said “Okay.”

 Octavia let out a small laugh. “Thanks, dad. You’re okay sometimes.”

 Stolas smiled down at her, his face bright against the starry sky above. It was nice to get a compliment from her. “Thank you Via. Thank you…”

 A massive explosion rocked the park, sending green flames shooting up into the air. The I.M.P. imps hurtled through the air, screaming before all three landed in front of the owls. All three were covered with smoke.

 “Way to ruin another good thing, sir!” Moxxie strained at Blitzo.

 “Worth it!” Blitzo replied, holding up a shaking finger. “That slutty toy clown had. It. Coming!”

 Moxxie and Blitzo then fell unconscious.

  In the darkness, Valentino’s hairless black dog Queef sniffed the unconscious Millie, grabbed her by the hair and dragged her still form away…

 Helluva Boss Episode Three: Spring Broken

Part One: Verosika

 The ground-shaking rock music blared as a gray van rolled along the street at high speed. The front hood of the van was loose and rattled up and down, showing a dark opening. The front headlights looked like a dark grate with a few yellow lights at the very ends. The small license plate at the front read “IMP-666” in black letters. Two red stripes streaked across the side of the van while the bold red and white I.M.P. decal was proudly displayed on the side door.

 “I love this song!” exclaimed the leader imp, Blitzo. He was wearing his usual work outfit; a navy blue coat with red buttons and a red pin at the front. Above Blitzo hung small red and white flags. In the center was a white toy horse with a blonde mane and tail. With his hands on the wheel, Blitzo belted out the lyrics:

 “You were the little spicy…uh… demon with the bleach blonde hair Fiendin' for some semen when I caught your stare Thought it might be love but you went too far Fucked all of my friends and blew up my car

 Lit me on fire made me watch rom-coms Made a secret sex tape and showed it to my mom You were a bitch kinda generally Now I'm a wet wild stallion and I'm running free

 You stepped on my nuts and you tore me apart Slapped up my booty and tangled my farts Cut off my dick when you shattered my heart But it grew back twice as long

 MUSTANG DONG!”

 Memories of him and a former lover were already rushing back to him. The song perfectly described his previous love life and though not very pleasant, was still fun to sing to. There were many times in his life where he considered horses to be better companions than his peers. An array of endless horse names and adventures he could conjure up in his head…

 Blitzo made “horn” rocker symbols with his hands as he nodded his head to the beat. In shotgun, Loona made a face of annoyance as she glanced at her black and white cell phone in her hands. She wore her usual shorts, torn gray tank top and black strings in the shape of a downward facing pentagram below her neck. In the back of the van, Moxxie covered both ears as he sat in the long red seat. He wore his usual dark coat and red bow tie. Millie rolled down her window and smiled as the breeze blew through her wild black hair. She had on her black tank top and torn pants as well.

 Blitzo drove the van into a reserved parking lot, surrounded by graffiti-sprayed buildings. A worn white banner on one building read “Buck you Flitzo” in bold capital letters. One of the buildings was decorated with a large red eye made of glass. Bizarrely enough, there was a billboard that advertised holy water. Blitzo haphazardly drove through the lot opening. He was just about to pull into the remaining empty space to the right when a pink convertible car beat him to it.

 “Holy shit! F…” Blitzo yelled, he and Loona both fearful. Blitzo rapidly turned the wheel and the horn sounded. He slammed on the brakes and the van skidded to a stop. The pink car had a red heart with gold trim on the back and a golden border. The license plate read “SUCK-4-LIFE.” The wheels had small white hearts on the dark inside, white rims surrounding them.

 An angry Blitzo rolled his head and turned off the radio.

 Oh, you “suck for life,” do ya?!” he asked as he glared at the car. He pulled out his white megaphone and leaned out the window.

 “Listen up, you unoriginal pink cum dump!” he yelled through the megaphone. “You have three goddamn seconds to get your dick out of my parking spot…”

 A pair of tall high heels lowered to the ground. The shoes were black with pink hearts on them. The figure wore black tight pants with three pink xs on the side. She wore a black and white dress, a black star on the lower half and a large X and O over her breasts. A sparkly light pink fluffy coat covered her shoulders. Her face was dark pink and a black choker was around her neck. She had a pointed tail, little bat wings and curved pink horns with a few black stars on them. Her hair was long and pinkish white, and sunglasses with pink hearts on them obscured her eyes.

 Blitzo lowered his megaphone in shock at the sight of the familiar succubus.

 “Oh shit! Verosika?!”

 The succubus blew a bubble of pink gum before it popped.

 “Blitzo,” she greeted, arms folded. She had pronounced the “o” on purpose to annoy Blitzo.

 Blitzo glared. “I should have known you’d be here. I could smell fish for miles. Which is odd because I believe the nearest ocean is…”

 Blitzo fell out through the window, face-planting onto the ground. He quickly stood up, pointing at the ground, “…three rings down!” He was referring to the Ring of Envy where the oceanic ruler Leviathan resided.

 “And I should have known you’d be here when I heard the Amber Alerts,” Verosika retorted. She held a white and brown flask bottle in her left hand. It was decorated with a small red and white heart near the top. “I.M.P. is a scam!” and “Swear word” were painted on a nearby brick wall.

 “Oh yeah?” he asked. “I’m surprised they let your fat ass out of rehab. I can see you’re still a drunken whore, clutching onto that beelzejuice juice bottle like it’s the last cock in Hell.”

 “They let me out because I’m still famous,” Verosika bragged, flipping back her long hair dramatically, “and rehab is for sad, loser wash-ups.”

 She took a drink from her bottle and wiped her black lipstick mouth with a gloved white thumb.

 “So your sister says hi,” she smirked, implying a temporary sexual relation with Tilla or Barbie Wire.

 Blitzo stomped over toward Verosika. “Why are you parking here?” he growled. “This is the only parking spot my company has. So take your tampon race car somewhere else.”

 Verosika leaned slightly toward him. “Actually prick, it has my name on it.”

 She pointed down at their feet, where “Verosika” and a heart was spray painted in purple over the previous black “I.M.P.”

 Verosika stood up. “I’m doing a bit of freelance for one of the infinitely more successful companies in the building…”

 “No way,” Loona breathed as she peered from the van.

 “…and they wanted to have me come in this week to lead their team during spring break.”

 “A week?!” Blitzo exclaimed. “No, no, you are not parking here for a fucking week!”

 Verosika removed her sunglasses, revealing pink irises with yellow sclera.

 “Aw, you mad, Blitzo?” she cooed in a mocking tone. “You gonna run off, leaving someone else to pay for the hotel room, steal their car…”

 Verosika and Blitzo talked over each other, “…and run three Rings to Wrath and back and max my credit cards on shitty horse riding lessons?!”

 Blitzo stomped his foot. “God dammit whore, you will not let that go!”

 Verosika walked past him, showing a middle finger. “Choke on a sandpaper cock.”

 Loona lowered her head as she walked by. Blitzo angrily followed Verosika.

 “Hold on, you better move that pussy wagon right now or I’m gonna…”

 Blitzo froze as he heard a low growling sound behind him. Towering over him was a beefy dark gray Hellhound man. He wore a torn black jacket decorated with red spikes along the shoulders. A black tattoo of a wolf with sharp teeth and a tongue out was on his left shoulder. He had thick eyebrows, torn pointed ears, a black nose and a scar over his milky left eye. His right eye was red.

 “You’ll what?” he grunted, showing his sharp white teeth.

 Blitzo stuttered and looked around, fearfully. “Or I’ll…um…I’ll…I’ll call HR.”

 Blitzo, Verosika and the Hellhound burst into sudden laughter before they calmed down.

 “Anyway,” said Verosika, “Meet my new Hellhound, Vortex. Unlike you, he actually does his job well.”

 Vortex walked by Verosika’s side as she left. She flipped off Blitzo again before saying, “Ta ta, fuck stain.”

 “Ugh, I wasted so much time with a bag of holes like that,” Blitzo muttered in annoyance.

 Just then, Loona stepped out of the van. “You know Verosika Mayday?!”

 “Huh?” Blitzo asked. Then he casually answered, “Oh yeah, her, yeah, we dated.”

 “Was it before or after she became a pop star?” Millie asked in curiosity.

 Blitzo crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

 “You dated a popstar?!” Moxxie added as he stepped out of the van.

 “Okay, why are you all acting like that’s such a shock?” Blitzo asked.

 “Hello. It’s Verosika Mayday?” Loona replied.

 “It’s you?” Millie said. Moxxie and Millie were surprised that a famous person like Verosika would consider dating someone who was perceived to be far below her league.

 Moxxie scratched his head. “I just…Is she blind? Suffering some form of brain damage?”

 “Okay look, you are all making this into a way bigger deal than it needs to be,” Blitzo said. “I don’t pry into your stupid personal lives.”

 Loona, Moxxie, and Millie did overlapping yells:

  “You do that all the time, sir!” yelled Moxxie.

 “Come on, you do that,” added Millie.

 “You totally do that,” Loona agreed.

 Millie grinned mischievously, her eyelids lowering. “What was sex with her like?”

 “Millie!” Moxxie yelled, taken aback.

 “What?!” Millie shrugged. “It’s a pop star! You’d wanna know what sex with Michael Crawford was like.”

 Moxxie paused in mid argument. “Touché.”

 “Okay look, let’s just drop it!” Blitzo demanded. “Millie, find a temporary spot for that truck.”

 He tossed a pair of keys to a gleeful Millie, who caught them and scampered off.

 “Okay, Loonie, Moxxie, let’s go handle this shit.”

 In the building, Loona led the way between the imps as the three stepped out of an elevator. The dark brown walls were decorated with yellow webbed cracks. I.M.P. was painted in red on an office door window. The Hellhound nervously stepped forward, hands together.

 “Did they see me? Fuck! I did my makeup shitty today!” she muttered. Blitzo stared at her with shining eyes.

 “Oh you look perfect, Loonie. Like always.”

  She flinched away from him, arms crossed as she passed by a water cooler. A look of annoyance crossed Loona’s face at Blitzo baby-talking her.

 “Oh shut up da…” Loona began before seeing a look of adoration and wide eyes on Blitzo’s face. She had almost said, “dad.”

 “Urgh!” she caught herself and shoved him aside. “…Blitzo!” She checked her face in a small hand mirror, a wolf design on it. She then bumped into a long furry arm.

 “Oh. Whoa,” she breathed. Glancing down at her was none other than Vortex. Redness crept up to her cheeks and she wagged her tail. Blitzo briefly smiled at Loona before gasping in shock. He dashed between Loona and Vortex, arms out.

 “Hi big man,” he said. “Where’s your bitch bag of an employer?”

 “She’s in her office,” said Vortex in a low voice. “There wasn’t room on the second floor so they rented one here on this one. It’s way cheaper.”

 Vortex mentioned toward a room down the hall, across from the I.M.P. office. Three neon hearts stood right above two blue double doors. A large pink “V” and a pink “M” were painted on the door windows, standing for Verosika Mayday (and Vivienne Medrando, creator of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss!)

 “Oh come on!” Blitzo yelled.

 Vortex chuckled with a shrug of his shoulders. “Sorry man,” he said before walking away.

 “Oh no you don’t, bitch,” Blitzo muttered.

 “Sir,” Moxxie began. “How about you let me go in and try to reason with her. I don’t really listen to what’s classified as “pop genre” music, so her status to me is…”

 Blitzo tuned out Moxxie’s rambling.

 “Moxxie,” he said, “Shut the fuck up.”

 “All righty then,” Moxxie replied, pushing open one of the blue doors and going inside. Electronic music briefly sounded from inside the room. The room had been converted into a dimly lit recording studio, with mixing consoles, effects units, microphones and separate booths. The neon pink border just under the ceiling gave it a club-like atmosphere, as did the rows of beer bottles on the counters. The silhouettes of Moxxie, Verosika and her gang of demons were visible from a large glass window.

 “Hello Miss Verosika was it?” Moxxie asked, his eyes golden and glowing. “I work for Imp and it is actually rather important for us to retain the singular parking space we were assigned because…”

 A woman succubus with a bob of hair pointed at Moxxie. “Aw, look at the little one. He’s got a wittle bow tie!” The gang snickered.

 “Please don’t condescend me, ma’am,” Moxxie replied. “I…”

 A male incubi leaned close to Moxxie. “Wanna kiss, you little guy?”

 Moxxie stepped back. “A…A kind offer, but…I’m married.”

 Verosika stepped forward as her gang surrounded Moxxie. “Hey, why don’t you send a little message from me back to your limp-dick boss?”

 Verosika and her gang hissed with sharp shadowy mouths over Moxxie. The imp screamed “Don’t touch that!” Blitzo raced over and pressed both hands on the window pane.

 “Moxxie, do not let her access any of your holes!” he cried.

 Moxxie raced back into the hall, his back against the closed doors. He was shaken and battered, with red lipstick kisses all over his face.

 “I…I gotta go lie down…now,” he stuttered as he walked away.

 Blitzo fumed, veins popping in his yellow eyes. “Oh this won’t stand!”

 He boot-kicked both doors open, gaining the attention of his ex and her crew. There were other succubi and incubi with reddish pink skin, horns, pointed tails and small bat wings. A white-haired man wore a black collar with a black upside down cross around his neck. He wore a black short sleeved shirt with a red logo that read “burn forest burn” on it. His taller male partner wore a ripped black tank top with a circled X on it. His hair was black and he had a black goatee. Two demon women partners sat together as well. The first had long dark hair and wore a fishnet top and leggings. The white-haired succubi next to her wore short revealing overalls. Verosika stood poised in the middle.

 “Alright, (censored)! That’s it!” Blitzo yelled, marching over toward Verosika. “If you’re gonna be shitty to my employees…” he pointed a finger at her, “…then I challenge you to a fucking…challenge!” He leaned his head back in frustration. “Fuck, I said that twice.”

 The woman with long dark hair chuckled. “Is this imp boy starting a demon duel?”

 “I think he is,” Verosika replied with a snicker. She bent over toward the imp. “What’s the game then, Blitzo?”

 “Every year, you STD spreaders go topside for easy pickings while spring break is a prime time for crime of all kinds!” Blitzo responded. He grinned, “So I bet…you succu-bitches can’t fuck as many people as we can off by the end of the day.” He briefly made a hand gesture of a gun.

 Verosika and her gang burst into laughter. Blitzo glared in determination. Verosika and the others stopped laughing. “Oh, you’re serious?” Verosika asked. She leaned in and spoke to Blitzo in a low whisper, “Game on, bitch.”

 Later at I.M.P. headquarters, Blitzo stood in front of an easel full of paper and a large whiteboard flanked by bat wings near the top. There was a large bar graph drawn on the board along with horse drawings. On the left hand corner, Blitzo had written, “Potential Horse Names: ‘Grape Fiesta’, ‘Paperclip’, and ‘Soap’, -32.”  Moxxie, Millie and Loona sat in their usual spiked chairs around a long table to listen.

 “Alright, shut your assholes, here’s how were gonna do this shit,” Blitzo announced.

 “First, we find a fuck ton of clients…”

 The animated childish drawings on the paper showed Blitzo, Moxxie, Millie and Loona standing together. A crowd of imps and clients surrounded them and gave them hugs and piles of money.

 “We portal up…”

 The Blitzo drawing snapped his fingers and the I.M.P. figures fell down to earth.

 “We have our fun murder time as per usual…”

 The I.M.P. figures used guns to kill the human figures around them.

 “We pile all the bodies into a big fucking canoe…”

 Drawing Blitzo tossed the dead humans into a canoe that read “S.S. Cum Gutter.”

 “We push said canoe into some water. We light it on fire to attract the sharks and eagles and maybe a goose, too. Fuck it…”

 Animated drawings of sharks, snakes, eagles and a goose ate at the bodies on fire. A large octopus sea monster snapped the boat and everything up in its mouth.

 “They come and eat the bodies, we win the bet…”

 The I.M.P. figures cheered, while the Loona one wore a party hat and blew a noisemaker.

 “We rub it in that sloppy bitch’s drunken whore ass face.”

 The Verosika drawing burst into tears on her knees as the I.M.P. figures flipped her off several times.

 “Do you have any questions?” Blitzo asked as the real meeting continued.

 “Uh yeah, why was that nonsense?” Moxxie deadpanned.

 Blitzo walked over to him. “That wasn’t a question.”

 “That wasn’t a plan,” Moxxie retorted.

 Blitzo put a hand around Moxxie. “I’m sorry, but that was a flawless presentation of what we should do, Mox. It’s not my fault you’ve got a smooth little brain upstairs.”

 “A what now?” Moxxie asked, eyebrows raised.

 “I’m calling you slow, Moxxie. God, why don’t you learn to take criticism, you talentless baby dick troll?” He pointed his finger into Moxxie’s chest several times as he spoke.

 An angry Moxxie stood up on the table. “Well why don’t you take an art class?”

 Blitzo grabbed Moxxie by the collar and threw him back onto the chair. “Why don’t you see how expensive they are?!”

 Loona interrupted the argument, still holding her cell phone. “Hey, is there a way I can come with you guys this time?”

 Blitzo crossed his arms in disapproval. “Absolutely not. I forbid it. Not gonna happen. Sorry, sweetie. Spring break is no place for young vulnerable goth girls. You know the kind of freaks up there who drool all over you.”

 All four characters glared into the camera, breaking the fourth wall.

 “Well, I can blend in with humans easy enough,” Loona explained. “Just let me tag along.”

 “Wait, say that again,” said Blitzo.

 “I can blend in?” Loona reiterated.

 “You have a human disguise?” Millie asked.

 “Yeah. Don’t you?”

 The three guilty imps nervously looked at each other, eyes darting from side to side.

 “You three have been screwing around on Earth this whole fucking time, without human disguises?!” Loona asked in disbelief.

 “Okay, new plan!” Blitzo called, rapidly scribbling on a piece of paper. He placed the paper on the easel, showing Loona surrounded by human figures with tiny hearts around them.

 “Loonie can help lure the humans to us and we’ll take care of the rest. Okay how about that?”

 “Flawless logic,” Millie smiled in agreement.

 Moxxie held up a clawed finger. “I think you’re missing the biggest issue, sir. Isn’t it crucial to have a client who demands enough kills to win this bet? We aren’t just going up to massacre.”

 Blitzo smirked in response. “I got that covered, Mox.”

 Not long after, Blitzo stuck a flyer onto a pole. It read “Spring Break Victim 50% Off!” It had a drawing of Blitzo, a dead victim and little cartoon horses.

 Blitzo strode to Moxxie. “Now, we wait.”

 Moxxie shook his head. “Sir, there is no way we are going to get enough clients by the end of the day with one poorly spelled bad grammar flyer!”

 Both Moxxie and Blitzo paused and looked over to see a line of a dozen creatures looking in curiosity at the flyer under the Pride Ring’s blood red sky. They arrived in a variety of shapes and sizes. Some of them were imps and others were sinners. There was a pink fluffy monster with black eyes, an orange fly trap plant wearing librarian glasses, a fox with thick white hair, a humanoid dog with pointed ears and a hook for a hand. Next to a teal lizard lady with dyed hair stood a tall man wearing a blue suit with a deer skull for a head. Even Travis, a gray owl demon, was there.

 Blitzo elbowed Moxxie with a smug grin before strolling over to the other demons. “Now, who’s first?”

  Part Two: At the Beach

 The beach in the human world was alive with humans from everywhere. Men, women and children happily walked around, relaxed under umbrellas, or had snacks. Several surf boards stood up in the sand by a decorated teal wall with a wavy orange design taking up the center. The crowd was positioned between a wooden dock and a makeshift stage. Two women wearing sunglasses got comfortably close and kissed each other in the shade. A muscular dark skinned man talked with a red haired woman while a blonde guy wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap shook a bottle of pills into his mouth. Above the beach lay a small row of shops. One sign read “Pawn Paradise.” One sign read “hotel” in red letters while another sign read “Sea cream” with a teal ice cream cone structure next to it. Another sign read “Pico Puncho Pizza” and another read “Dagon Juice” and had a green fish with a sailor’s cap on it.

 In the shadows under the dock, the I.M.P. crew emerged from algae covered rocks.

 “Now remember, we can’t be seen, alright?” Blitzo reminded them. “And loose shots will likely cause a panic, so Loona can help with leading targets to a better spot to off them. You got the list, Loonie?”

 Loona skimmed the list in her hands and gave it a sniff. “Got it.”

 She dropped the paper, stood up and walked into the light. A rush of swirling blue magic enveloped her before it vanished.

 Loona was now in human form. She opened her red eyes and brushed her thick light gray hair with her hands. She wore her same dark crop top and high black shorts but she now had white skin, two bars in her right ear and a partially shaved head. She had gray eye makeup on and a black choker around her neck. Her pale midriff, arms and legs were visible.

 All three imps stared in amazement.

 “Oh Loonie, look at you!” Blitzo breathed. “You look downright awful!”

 Loona glared at him.

 Blitzo wiped a tear from his eye. “I’m so proud.” He pointed ahead. “Now go fetch!”

 Loona peered in front of her with a hand over her eyebrows to help block out the light. Her target humans were outlined in red in her vision. Loona smirked and strolled over to a tall dark haired muscular man wearing sunglasses. She moved a finger toward his chest and gave him a flirtatious grin. She mentioned behind her to a private alleyway. Loona led him into the alleyway and leaned casually against the wall. The man reached out to grab her in lust but was immediately shot in the head by Blitzo spying on the roof. He gave Loona a thumbs up.

 Later on, a blonde man ran to Loona in an alleyway with a hungry lustful look on his face. He was caught in a noose by Blitzo. A random “music band” poster hung on the wall. On a rooftop, a brown haired man leaned in to kiss Loona, but Millie knocked him off the roof with a kick. The man fell into a green dumpster that Moxxie slammed shut. Loona walked with a fat man down the sidewalk and a flower pot crashed fatally into his head. Blitzo killed a woman with a knife, Millie killed a white haired woman with a spiked baseball bat, and another woman got shot in the head.

 Blitzo and the gang put the bodies in bloodstained dark trash bags, closing them. In the background, Millie happily jumped on another body.

 “That’s nine kills in the bag!” called Blitzo. “I’d like to see that waily snatch orgasm that many…”

 The imps froze when they heard a voice through a microphone. It was Verosika Mayday on stage, in her human form. Her shadowy silhouette in the clearing smoke resembled her demon form. She had blonde hair, tan skin and wore black leggings and high heels. She wore a pink skirt and a matching frilly top that revealed her right shoulder. She had a small black heart on her right cheek. The background lights were pink, giving the appearance of moving hearts. “Verosika Mayday” was on a pink banner overhead. Verosika appeared on two screens on either side of the stage, showing moving hearts of red, pink and white for the background. Six pink spotlights shone on her.

  “All right spring breakers! Are y’all ready get fucked up and make some bitching bad choices?!”

 The crowd cheered in affirmation. A white teen boy with short blonde hair tore off his shirt and yelled “Verosika!” He had her name written in pink on his bare chest.

 Verosika sang her song:

 “All aboard

 Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay babe

Take it straight to Bonetown

 V-time, free time, baby relax

Self-care, no hair, Brazilian wax

Hardtop succu-bus to the beach

Catch some rays while catching some D

 Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay babe

Take it straight to Bonetown

 Hot dog, hot bod, sausage and buns

Threesome, fivesome, having some fun

Back to my place, welcome to Hell

Sun’s out, hormones out, how does it smell?

 Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay babe

Take it straight to Bonetown”

  Verosika performed her song on stage and took a drink from her bottle. “Fuck you Blitzo” appeared on the screens as Blitzo seethed. The humans made out with others around them. The humans kissed, hugged, and gave each other anal. One dark woman succubus showed a love-struck man a popsicle with semen-like saliva on it. She grinned and threw herself onto the human male. An incubi with dark hair in human form smiled and snapped his fingers at a blonde man…his sunglasses fell off his surprised sunburned face. Several more succubi and incubi grinned and snuck up on the humans.

 Blitzo was furious. “God dammit, that bitch started her godish mating call! Now she’s gonna win all those sex maniacs. We gotta pick things up, guys! He on the list, Loonie?”

 Blitzo mentioned to a vomiting long haired blonde man in boxer shorts.

 Loona appeared distracted, not even looking at him. “Huh? Yeah I think so.” Loona was staring at a tall muscular black skinned bouncer by the stage: a human Vortex.

 “Good!” Blitzo called.

 The blonde man looked up at Blitzo in a stupor.

 “Whoa, what are you? A leprechaun? Hahaha!”

 Blitzo raised a sharp black and red ax. “Oh yeah, pretty cool, huh?”

 Blitzo smashed the man’s head open with the ax, causing blood and brains to splatter.

 “But you sure as shit ain’t gonna tell nobody.” He looked over. “All right, next one, Loonie, come on.”

 Blitzo rapidly glanced around, but Loona wasn’t where she was a moment before.

 “Where’s my baby?!” he cried in a panic. Millie pointed toward the stage. “Look!”

 Loona nervously made her way through the crowd, avoiding a French-kissing couple and tossing aside a bra that landed on her head. A squealing fanboy ran toward Verosika but Vortex punched him into the ground, head first. He dragged the teen away in the distance as Loona watched. A male incubus appeared as a white skinned human with short white hair. Putting both hands on her shoulders, he smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at her. With a roll of her eyes, Loona landed an uppercut on his chin, causing him to fall.  

 “Now, who wants a piece of this?” Verosika called as she took one last gulp.

 She tossed her flask into the ocean, creating a small golden portal. A fish appeared, which rapidly grew in size.

 Loona walked sideways over toward Vortex.

  “Hey, you,” she tried.

 “Hey,” Vortex replied. “You’re the hound working for my boss’s freaky ex.”

 “Yeah. Sorry if that’s weird.”

 “It’s cool,” he shrugged. “Her beef ain’t mine. I’m not paid enough to care.”

 Loona laughed nervously. “Yeah. Yeah.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’m Loona!”

 “Okay.” In her giddy tone he repeated, “I’m Vortex!” Both chuckled.

 “That’s hot,” Loona said with a grin. Then her face turned red and flustered. “I mean like literally you know because vortexes, you know, they give off heat. Probably.” She pointed both fingers in a snap, trying to act cool.

 Vortex chuckled lightly. “Uh, yeah. I guess. But my friends call me Tex.”

 “Oh yeah. I wish I had friends. I mean no, I mean, I don’t. I…I don’t have friends.”

 Just then, Blitzo arrived, moving himself between them.

 “Am I interrupting something?”

  “Nah man. Just having a conversation,” Vortex replied.

 Blitzo narrowed his eyes and wagged a finger at him. “’Conversation’ leads to HPV!” Loona clenched her fists in frustration.

  Meanwhile, Moxxie and Millie hid behind several metal beer barrels.

 “And… we lost him,” Moxxie declared. “Huh, it’s looking like it’s up to us handle this list.”

 Millie’s face shone in excitement. “Hell yeah! Team M and M, getting shit down, making the money!”

 Moxxie and Millie ran off holding hands in the sunset and killed more people. A sign read “Senpai, notice me.”

  Loona pinched her nose. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Loona said to Blitzo in concern. “You’re gonna get us all into shit.”

 “I just wanted to see what was so important that you’d be distracted from your job.”

 Loona angrily pulled Blitzo away from Vortex.

 “What, I can’t have a break?”

 Blitzo yelled at the top of his lungs. “We have a parking spot on the line!”

 “Hey dude,” Vortex mentioned as he walked over. “Why don’t you chill out?”

 Blitzo wagged a finger. “Why don’t you stay out of it?”

 He turned back to Loona.

 “Okay, this is our business.” He pointed to the ground and in his tail was a drawing of Blitzo killing a person, a horse followed by an equal sign and dollar signs. “Literally.”

 Loona clenched her fists and briefly leaned forward in anger. “Oh fuck Blitzo! Why can’t you stay out of my face for like five minutes?!”

  “Because I adopted you! And that should mean something.”

  “Oh what does it matter? You’re not my real dad! I was almost eighteen.”

 “It still counts.”

 “Well it shouldn’t. I didn’t need you then, asshole! I don’t need you now.”

 A tense silence followed. Both of them crossed their arms, their backs to each other. Both faces showed hurt expressions.

 As a young pup, Loona had been left to fend for herself by her real neglectful parents. She had lived a life of meth addiction, sex, fighting and insecurity with no real friends. Blitzo was perhaps the first person to truly care about her. He took her in as a teen and adopted her…and she had worked at I.M.P. ever since. Loona already felt bad at what she had just said. But there was no taking it back.

 She stuttered, trying to say something.

 “Uh, Blitzo…I…”

 “Enjoy your break, Loonie,” he replied. “I’m gonna go kill something.”

 Loona sighed sadly as he left.

 “Damn, girl. That was savage,” Vortex remarked sympathetically. He placed a large comforting hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

 Loona blushed heavily, forcing a smile.

 “Yeah, I’m fine. He’ll get over it. He usually does.”

 “I’m glad you could stick up for yourself, at least,” Vortex mentioned. “Hmm. Takes guts.”

 “Thanks,” Loona smiled.

  Meanwhile, Moxxie looked to the left and right from behind the beer cans on a table. Beer can and bottles were everywhere. Moxxie ducked back behind them, watching as Millie loaded her crossbow. The two imps smiled and kissed.

 A man with a baseball cap, sunglasses and a tie-dye shirt that read “Kool” threw down a beer can. “Yeah! Party!” he yelled. The man pointed both fingers in the air and then promptly flipped the table, sending the imps flying. Moxxie landed on the ground as the beachgoers stepped back.

 “Eww!” exclaimed a red haired woman in disgust, pointing down at him. “Oh my god! It’s a fucking possum!”

 Moxxie tried to scurry off, but a man picked him up. “Oh crumbs!”

 “I got it!” called the guy with “Kool” on his shirt, holding up Moxxie in the air. A muscular blonde man held a large beer barrel. The first guy tossed Moxxie inside while the second one closed the lid. “We put him in the keg,” one of them said. The other people cheered as Moxxie was carried away. “Beer is awesome!” they cheered. While he was inside, he gulped down the beer around him. The people tossed the barrel and played catch with it before leaving it behind.

 Millie dashed from behind the beer cans, arriving at the barrel Moxxie was in. The barrel wobbled, surprising Millie. She placed her ear to it before tipping it over. Moxxie spilled out on his back with the remaining beer.

 “Moxxie!” Millie cried.

 “Millie! Hi! Hey!” Moxxie slurred, rolling onto his back and looking at her upside down. “Hey, when did you get four heads? I wanna kiss ‘em!”

 He made smooching noises before Millie picked him up.

   Suddenly, a large gush of water rose up from behind them. A dark shadow passed over their faces, darkening the sky. The humans glanced up in shock. Even the demon gang and Verosika looked on in fear and surprise. A woman pointed upwards and several people ran off. A giant foot crushed a man lying on a turtle towel. Blood splattered everywhere and onto the crowd of humans. Another woman screamed and the humans ran for their lives. Blitzo was in the process of chocking a drinking man from behind, when he, too, stopped to look.

 It was a giant black Leviathan fish monster!

 The fish had large teal eyes, fins, white whiskers and dozens of blue sharp teeth. The beast let out a fierce, ear-shattering roar.

 “Oooh, fish,” Moxxie grinned stupidly in his drunken haze.

 Like a deadly vine, a long spiked tongue wrapped around Moxxie and pulled him toward the fish. Millie watched in horror as Moxxie was wrapped up above the large maw before the fish snapped its jaws shut.

 Millie got into a fighting stance. She glanced to her left and spotted a fat man drinking and wearing sunglasses. She stabbed him with a knife and tore off a piece of his towel. With her knife in her mouth, she lit the cloth on fire over a vodka bottle, creating a Molotov cocktail. Millie tossed it toward the monster, sending the fish stumbling and crashing down into the sea.

 Wasting no time, Millie swam toward the monster and cut upwards along its scaly body with her knife. Using all her strength, she pried open the monster’s mouth. Moxxie was punching the monster’s uvula, still wrapped up in the tongue.

 Millie reached for him with her hand. Moxxie reached too, then gave her a high five. Millie grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him up. She used her other hand and foot to support herself on the monster’s teeth. She pulled as hard as he could, but Moxxie wouldn’t budge.

 Just when she lost her grip, she slashed her knife across the tongue, slicing a piece off. In a roar of pain, the monster spat Moxxie out. Moxxie spread out his arms, enjoying the feeling of flying. Back on the beach, a man flinched as the tongue piece landed on the ground. Moxxie landed in Blitzo’s arms. The man cheered before Blitzo shot him with a gun. Moxxie cheered drunkenly.

  Back inside the monster’s mouth, Millie rapidly punched at the tongue, trying to get out. The monster roared in pain and anger, slashing around as Millie wrestled with it.

 “I love that woman!” Moxxie declared.

 Blitzo smirked. “Oh she totally pegs you, doesn’t she?” Indeed, Millie was dominant in the bedroom and Moxxie loved it.

 Millie leapt into the air, knife aimed downward. She fell back inside the mouth…then sliced off the fish’s head from the inside. A gush of blood flowed out from the monster before it landed with a final thud into the water. Millie walked back to shore and dropped her knife, exhausted.

 Blitzo and Moxxie cheered. “Oh yeah, way to show off, Mils!” Blitzo called.

 “Is Mox okay?” Millie panted.

 Blitzo glanced at the drunken Moxxie. “Oh yeah, he’s fine,” he casually said before dropping him onto the sand.

 Millie raced over and held Moxxie in her arms.

 Moxxie grinned at Millie with a doped expression. “This is funny. I’m soooo… drinky.”

 Millie just smiled and hugged him.

 Blitzo scowled and crossed his arms. “Okay, this is too wholesome for my liking.”

 “Blitzo!” Verosika called.

 “Oh perfect,” he said sarcastically. He turned around to the human-disguised gang of seducer demons. “That must be the whores!”

 Verosika was flanked by four succubi and an incubi disguised as humans. “That was handled rather…obvious, don’t you think?” She grinned a smug grin.

 Millie held up Verosika’s flask. “I don’t think this belonged to any of us.”

 Millie tossed the flask to Verosika who caught it with one hand. She dropped it into one of the succubus’ hands.

 “Would be a shame if anyone found out you guys were behind a giant monster fish in the human world,” Millie added with a grin.

 Even Moxxie laughed out loud, pointing at them. “Oh Satan! You all be so fucked!”

 Verosika briefly looked concerned, then sneered. “Yeah, well you three nasty ass gremlins will be in shit for not being in disguises.”

 Moxxie fell to his knees and face-planted into the sand. He lifted his head up. “A human called me a possum. I am not a possum.” He face-planted again.

 Blitzo stepped forward and moved Moxxie out of the way with a foot. “You know, we could keep this little B movie scene on the down low if you agree to let us use that parking space.”

 Verosika, not wanting to get in trouble, relented with a sigh. “Fine.”

 Blitzo raised both arms in the air. “We fucking won!”

 “Fuck yeah!” Millie cheered.

 “In your face, bitch!” Blitzo taunted Verosika, who scowled.

 She glared at Blitzo one last time. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Tex!”

 Vortex stood with Loona not too far from the empty stage. “Well, guess it’s time to bounce, but hey, if you’re ever down to party, I’ll give you a ring sometime.”

 Loona smiled in excitement. “Really? I mean, Yeah. Yeah.”

 “Yeah. My girlfriend throws a ton of crazy hound parties.”

 “Nice. Can’t wait for my first one.”

 “Let’s get you some friends, girl.”

 Vortex gave her a playful punch before following Veroskia. Loona looked downcast at seeing Vortex leave and being reminded of her confrontation with Blitzo. Vortex already had a girlfriend and he wasn’t coming with her. Now she would go back to doing her usual secretary work. With Hell being “every demon for themselves,” it was hard to make true friends, especially if one was of lower class and lost in dark thoughts all the time. Loona could not deny to herself that she often felt like a lone wolf.

 Millie carried Moxxie and jumped into the portal.

 “Come on, Loonie tooney!” Blitzo called to her. “Let’s go back and park our fat fucking car in our fat fucking space!” He ran off into the portal.

 Loona followed Blitzo and fell through the portal on her back.

 Blitzo mockingly gave Verosika double middle fingers through the portal from behind her. Verosika growled in anger after noticing. She and her gang made their way up the stairs and onto the street.

 A policeman yelled, “Put your hands up, you sick deviants!”

 The gang huddled in fear as guns were trained on them. They were surrounded by police cars, a SWAT team, men on horses and a helicopter. A clown and a mime robot were also with the police.

 Verosika sighed in defeat. “Alright, sluts, get ready to suck a lot of pig dick.”

Her gang members groaned in disgust as they raised their hands in surrender.

#helluvaboss #hazbinhotel

[ellisimis]

all of them

oH BOY OKAY THEN

zinc white; how are you really feeling today? no one-word answers please!

actually pretty good! i gained a lot of clarity on some things!! i only do one word answers i’m sorry

cadmium yellow; when you think of the word “happy” what’s the first thing that comes to mind?

big smiles, and laughter, and sitting with people without needing to say anything and just enjoying someones company

lemon; what’s your comfort food?

i... honestly have no clue lol i just kinda eat what i want when i want

hansa yellow; what’s your guilty pleasure song?

i don’t really have a guilty pleasure o:

yellow ochre; name an artist/band whom you just discovered & can’t get enough of!

IAMX!! like just listen to this

naples yellow; where do you feel most at home?

....asleep

raw sienna; with whom do you feel most at home?

my family def, i love ‘em

golden ochre; describe the relationship you have with your closest friend.

i don’t even know if anyone i know would consider me a friend oh no

golden deep; what’s your favorite season?

spring or summer!!

cadmium orange; what do you like to do on your days off?

probs edit or play wayhaven or mess around in blender atm

orange lake; do you have anyone you can turn to when you’re sad?

yes!! my family <3

titans; do you prefer slow mornings or relaxing evenings?

relaxing evenings, i am NOT a morning person, although i try :c

shakhnazaryan red; are you currently binge-watching anything?

i wAS rewatching Code Geass but then wayhaven came out and Nothing Else Exists

red ochre; are you more right-brained (creative) or left-brained (analytical)?

i honestly don’t know lmaO

burnt sienna; is there a painting that brings you peace when you look at it?

anything my sister paints! c: she’s talented lol

english red; what animal do you relate to most?

i like all animals o: although i remember one time someone said i was like an owl so i guess??

vermilion; what’s your favorite accent?

i tend to like subtle accents~~

cadmium red; do you have a “type” when it comes to a significant other?

has never had an so if theY’RE NICE I GUESS

scarlet; describe your current crush/es.

i don’t have one~~ unless fictional guys count cause oH BOY

ruby; what does your ideal first date look like?

idk maybe like. actually holding a conversation lmaO

carmine; what does your ideal second date look like?

gotta get through the first one hehe

madder lake red; would you ever kiss someone (or accept a kiss) on a first date?

probs not but like. i’m an awkward mess so i don’t know think that’d go well anyway

quinacridone rose; what’s something you’re really looking forward to?

WAYHAVEN BOOK 3 BABY

cobalt blue spectral; what is the most beautiful place you have ever been to?

was visiting a friend once and she was showing us around the area and we were driving and on one side was a cliff going up and on the other was a cliff going down and there was reALLY TURQUOISE oceans and pretty sand and i  was all hoLY SHIT

ultramarine; when was the last time you were in a good mood? do you know/remember what sparked it?

hell yeah the other day some folks were really nice and accommodating with my slow ass

blue; what’s the most recent dream you remember?

i was shopping with my sister. my dreams are so mundane, its great

bright blue; what does your dream family look like? any kids or pets? how many of each?

oh gOD I’D LOVE SOME PETS

prussian azure; what’s your favorite scent?

mmm rose

azure blue; what’s your favorite type of tea, if any?

doesnt drink tea

turquoise blue; if you could start a garden, what would you plant?

gardens are a horror fest cause i’m tERRIFIED of snails

cerulean blue; if you were guaranteed to have a viewership, would you start a youtube vlog?

probs not, thats a lot of pressure and shit

glauconite; describe your body without using any negative adjectives.

tiny

yellow green; picture yourself walking in a field. what do you see & hear in this scenario?

clear skies, birds singing, green grass and bUGS OH NO

green light; are you in a comfortable place in life? if not, what do you think might make it better?

hell yeah its getting more and more comfy~~

green; name three countries you want to visit; do you have any actual plans in place to visit any of them?

i wanna go everywhere tbh but like. if i had to choose maybe like ireland, croatia & tahiti

emerald green; do you speak any languages besides english? are there any additional languages you want to learn?

unfortunatelyyy i only speak english :c i’d love to learn more tho

oxide of chromium; what’s your favorite book?

i.... don’t read as often as i should oop

mars brown; what’s a movie that always puts a smile on your face/makes you laugh?

probs the first pirates of the caribbean for nostalgia’s sake

burnt umber; what’s something you plan to do before the day is over to take care of yourself?

eaTING SOMETHING

umber; have you drank enough water today?

probs not tbh

voronezhskaya black; what or who is your go-to outlet for when you need to vent?

that’d be my mum she’s great

sepia; name five things that always make you happy.

1.Mason

2. Mason

3. Mason

4. Mason

5. Mason

i got it bad lmaO

indigo; what’s the best/sweetest compliment you have ever received?

soMEONE RECENTLY SAID THEY HAD A PASSING THOUGHT OF ‘WOW THAT ELLI IS A NICE PERSON’ AND I PRACTICALLY CRIED

payne’s gray; describe your aesthetic?

i’d like to think its kind of classy. at least i try to have a slightly classy vibe alongside spoop

black; post a selfie because you are so beautiful!

Ya know what okay then, if you made it this far imma post an old one

#nonsims #ask #tag game #lazysunjade #ty for asking eveN THO THERE WAS SO MUCH OMG

[uas-fics]

Title: Cold Turkey, Ducks, Parachutes, and Other Mixed Metaphors

Summary: When Nichole moves away, Token is heartbroken. He doesn't want to deal with his friends setting him up or Nichole’s friends scrutinizing any girl he tried to date. So Token concocts a plan to fake date Kenny McCormick to avoid all the trouble.

Rating: T

Ships: Tokenny

Other: Not a perfect story, but it’ll work. ;)

Read on Ao3

——-

He took a wrong turn trying to find the library. Token frowned, looking around. He'd been looking down on his phone.

The hallway ended at a single door. Lime crusted the water fountain to the left. Spiderwebs clung to the corners. When was the last time a dust mop saw the end of this hall? 

Token took a step back and looked over his shoulder. He should get back to basketball practice. He told Coach he would only be gone long enough to return a book to the library before it was late tomorrow.

His eyes drifted down to his phone again.

Nichole's text message from two days ago stared back at him. Simple, clear, and no mistake. They were over. 

His heart sank. He didn't want to go back to practice. Everyone knew that Nichole moving away hit him hard. He couldn't stand all the pity looks he'd get. 

No one would come looking for him until the practice was over knowing what he was going through, so what did it matter if he slumped against the wall and moped for an hour? What was the difference between an hour in the hall and fifteen minutes in the library?

The janitor could kick him out if he stayed too long. He didn't care.

Token pulled his legs to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. Part of him wanted to cry. Part of him wanted to walk all the way to Nichole's new home four states away and beg she take him back. 

With a groan, he clenched his eyes shut. No crying.

 This was one of the best ways two people could break up. No animosity. No bitterness. Just a forlorn sense of what could have been. 

Squeezing his legs closer to his chest, Token swallowed a sob. He’d been in a relationship for almost six years, not counting the week or two long breakups that happened here and there. He honestly didn’t know what to do with himself now.

Since fourth grade, it had been ‘Token and Nichole.’

 ‘Do you and Nichole want to go on a double date?’ 

‘Are you and Token coming to the dance?’ 

‘Of course, Nichole and Token are going to be partners for the project!’

Being single had its own set of challenges he wasn't looking forward to either.

Everyone would try to set him up with someone new. He would bet less than a week would pass before Clyde sent him a picture of some girl claiming Token should talk to her. 

The girls in his class, out of their friendship with Nichole, would keep a scrupulous eye on any girl who dared attempted to court Token to make sure he was left in "good hands."

What was he to do? He didn't want to be single again, but he didn't want to go through all the hoops to meet and learn to love someone new. He wasn't ready for all that bullshit!

The door at the end of the hall creaked. Token jumped, scrambling to stand up. 

As he wiped his eyes, smoke rolled out of the opened door. The scent of tobacco made him recoil with a cringe.

Kenny waved his hand in front of his face as he stepped out. He didn't notice there was anyone else in the hall until he looked up from grinding his cigarette against the sole of his shoe.

"Oh, hey, man. You skipping detention too?" Kenny asked, readjusting his heavy coat.

"No. I’m not in detention.” 

He flinched. Without even shedding a tear, his voice still managed to come out raw and in pain. Using the old water fountain to pull himself up, Token smoothed out his basketball uniform.

"I took a wrong turn to the library," He explained. "I need to return a book. Sorry for interrupting you." He turned and took two steps before a warm hand grabbed his wrist.

"Dude, are you alright?"

If Token hadn't looked over his shoulder, he would have made it back to the locker room, splashed himself with cold water, and went on with his life, but he did. 

Despite himself, he started to cry.

Kenny took a few steps back, his face still plastered with worry.

"Dude?" He whispered.

Token wiped his nose on the front of his uniform. "Sorry. I, um, I..." He swallowed. "Nichole and I broke up. She-she moved, remember? And I can't..."

"Ah, Token. I'm sorry," Kenny offered. Token tried to keep some of his composure but quickly gave in to his grief. Tears rolled down his cheeks and sobs broke his voice.

Kenny rocked his weight back and forth before taking a breath. He stepped over and wrapped his arms around Token, patting his back.

"It's alright. You'll be happy again soon," Kenny promised. 

Token sniffled more, but found himself happy Kenny hadn't told him he'd find another girlfriend soon. He'd gotten too much of that from Clyde and Jimmy lately.

After a few more minutes of crying against the worn orange of his coat, the cigarette smoke filling his nose and clinging to his shirt, Token found himself sitting on the ground against the wall, spilling everything he'd worried about to Kenny.

Kenny had always been quiet and a good listener, even as far back as elementary school. None of Token's close friends could boast that. Either they were one or the other, but never both. 

Kenny put a hand on his forearm. "I knew she'd moved away, but it sucks balls that it’s been so hard for you."

"I just," Toke shook his head, "don't want to deal with it. I can't just jump into a relationship with another girl since it would make the girls mad for getting over Nichole so quickly. I can't stay single because the guys would keep setting me up. I'm between a rock and a hard place."

Kenny hummed then snorted a chuckle. Token fixed him a frown. His eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

“What was so funny about that?”

"Sorry, sorry, I just had a thought." Kenny waved his hand. 

"A thought? Like an idea?"

"Eh," he lifted a shoulder, "not really. You need a parachute before you jump into another plane.”

“A parachute?” Token echoed.

“Yeah. Being in a relationship is like being in a plane. If you’re on the plane, you'll crash. You’re jumping off, but if you jump without a parachute, you’ll fall.” Kenny grinned. “That doesn’t make sense does it?”

“I...sort of? In a weird way.” Token looked down at his hands. “A parachute is a new relationship that will...buffer? Or, no, like, shield or...whatever. It’ll make everyone back off from helping me get into a new, real relationship?”

Kenny bobbed his head. “Yeah, like,” he took his crumpled pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket, “if you want to stop smoking, you can’t just quit cold turkey. You need to slowly cut down, like from a pack a day to two or three.” He pointed the box at Token with a grin. “What you need is a two or three cigarette parachute before you jump off the turkey plane.”

It felt so good to laugh. He didn't realize how much he needed it until then. 

Token wiped his eyes. “You just shoved those metaphors into a Kitchen Aid blender.”

Kenny bent forward in a half bow. “Word smoothie for my lord in these sorrowful times?” He looked up at Token through his lashes with impish eyes. “Twenty bucks.”

Token opened his mouth to make a joke back when an idea came to him. He shut his mouth and looked at the floor just beyond his toes.

 His brow furrowed, wondering if his idea could work. It was silly. No way it would. His plan would blow up in his face, but if it didn’t...

Token turned to face Kenny with an impish look of his own. “Kenny, how would you feel about being my parachute?”

---

Token had originally suggested City Wok, but the disgusted look on Kenny’s face shot down that idea in an instant. Instead, the two sat in a corner booth at Denny's.

“You do realize how bat shit crazy your plan sounds out loud, right?” Kenny asked around a chunk of potato. When they ordered, Kenny tried to pick something cheap as he carefully counted out nickels and dimes, until Token told him it didn’t matter and to order whatever he wanted. 

“I know, but do you think it might work?” Token drummed his fingers on his drinking glass. “It would only have to be for a month or two, or until something more gossip-worthy happens.”

Kenny swallowed. “Given that our class attends this school, it’ll be like two weeks.” He stabbed his fork into the steak and left it there, earning a cringe for his bad table manners from Token. “But it could work, or make even more drama. Do you really want to risk that?”

Token chewed his lip. He didn’t, but it was worth a shot. With a nod, Token told him he’d like to try his bat shit crazy plan.

“Ok, just so we’re on the same page here, you want me to pretend to date you. If we’re together, the guys won’t set you up with anyone. The girls won’t be able to judge me against Nichole because I’m not one of them. We do this until you're emotionally ready to jump back in the saddle and get a new girlfriend. That’s the page you're on, right?”

Token said, “yeah. I’ll even pay you for your time. Twenty dollars a date and five a day for just holding hands and junk in the hall at school.”

“What makes you think the girls won’t judge me, or, worse, judge you?” Kenny tore his fork from the steak. “You officially break up with your long-time girlfriend and not three days later you're dating the school man-slut? Sounds bad to me.”

“You’re not a man-slut,” Token defended, but couldn’t make himself sound completely sincere. Kenny was a swell guy, but he had a reputation for sleeping around. There was no denying that. Everyone knew it.

“True. In this case, I’d be a man-whore though.” Kenny chuckled. “Also I wasn’t saying slut like a bad thing. I have no problems with being called it. I just want to know if you want your boyfriend being known for that — fake or not, that’ll stick with you.” 

Token took a breath. Dating Kenny wouldn’t ruin his reputation. Kenny had gone on dates with plenty of other popular and well-liked kids in their school with no consequences, but maybe it would make Token look desperate.

Could he make that work for him in the end? Pull the ‘he was lonely and sad and desperate’ card to earn some sympathy points when he started dating for real again? 

“So you don't want to do it?” Token took a drink to wet his mouth. “I’m not trying to push you into anything you don’t want to do.”

Kenny held up his hands in a surrender gesture. “You’re a real gentleman, Token Black, you know that? I’ll do it, on one condition.” He lowered all his fingers but his pointers and kept his hands up as he spoke.

“What?” Token tensed, praying Kenny wouldn’t ask for something impossible or weird.

Kenny swung his hands down and pointed at Token across the table. “You tell Nichole about this. She deserves to know her leaving didn’t fuck you up that bad.” He dropped his hands to continue eating but kept his eyes half on Token to judge his reaction.

Token blinked, feeling a daze of shock cloud his mind. He’d expected a downpayment or being pressured to push the rules on personal space and touching. He’d expected something that would benefit Kenny completely, not this. Kenny got nothing from Nichole knowing about this plan.

“Really? That’s all?” Token’s mouth gaped.

Around a too big cut of steak, Kenny told him, “Well, we’ll have to discuss it more, about how mushy you want me to get and shit, but for now, yeah. Tell her.”

Slowly, still confused by this request, Token nodded in agreement.

With a grin, Kenny stood up from the table.

“Gotta take a leak.” 

Instead of walking straight to the restroom, he walked around the table to the other side of the booth. Placing a hand on either of Token’s shoulders, he leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t miss me,” He told him in a sing-song voice before stepping back and taking the long route around the restaurant to the restroom.

As Token set his hand on his cheek, he became very aware of a couple of classmates in the restaurant with their gaping expressions fixed straight on him.

---

Craig slammed his locker shut, nearly smashing Token’s fingers.

“Ok, what the fuck, Token?” 

Craig narrowed his eyes. Clyde peeked from under Craig’s elbow. Even after everyone hit their growth spurt, Clyde remained the shortest of their friend group, though in this case, you would have to be a giant to be able to look over Craig’s shoulders.

Token braced himself internally, but cooly asked, “Can I help you?”

Clyde pushed his way past Craig, phone held out, and shoved the screen into Token’s face. “This! What’s this? Bebe sent it to me last night.” 

Token crossed his eyes to read a message screenshot that played out:

Nellie: Token and Kenny are at the Dennys too? lol. What a contrast!

Bebe: Be nice! Lol what are they doing? Can you tell?

Nellie: They’re just eating and, oh, Kenny’s getting up and...

Bebe: and?

Nellie: He kissed him?! Kenny kissed Token????!!!!! In the Denny’s?!?!?!?!

Token wrinkled his nose. He knew what happened would get around, but one of the biggest gossips in the school knowing seconds after they agreed to fake date? That had to be a record.

Clyde wore a look of betrayal. “Is he your best friend now? I thought that was us.” 

“We’ve been friends since first grade. I helped you pull out your first loose tooth. When did you and McComirck suddenly become better friends than that?” Craig flipped him the bird before crossing his arms.

“Best friend?” Token couldn’t help but laugh.

 Kenny was a touchy person. He hung off his close friends and, if they allowed it, held their hands and sat in their laps.

 One time in middle school, the entire class thought he and Butters Stotch were dating when Kenny kissed him on the forehead after school. It was apparently a good luck kiss for cheer tryouts, but that cemented Kenny as having little boundaries with close friends.

No wonder they thought they were being replaced.

“He’s not my new best friend,” Token told them as he fiddled with his locker. “He’s uh, well...” With a yank, he pulled open his locker. “Last night was a date.”

Clyde’s phone fell from his hand. It clattered to the floor. Craig’s arms drop from his chest to his sides. They both looked at him in horror and disbelief.

“A date? Like a date date?” Craig shook his head. “I know Nichole moving fucked you up, but really? Kenny McCormick? He’s your rebound? Why didn’t you at least wait a month, dude?”

“There is a freshman in my math class that would have jumped on you in a second! All you had to do was ask me.” Clyde slumped. “Or, if you wanted a change from a girlfriend, Craig could have hooked you up with another gay dude in the school.”

Craig put his hand on Clyde’s shoulder and pushed him into the middle of the hall. “Not all gays know each other, Clyde.” He paused, rubbing his chin. “But there is that pansexual dude in Tweek’s art class...”

Token cringed. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid.

“Guys, stop. I asked Kenny to go out with me. I wanted to date him. It’s fine. Drop it,” Token ordered, taking a step to help Clyde back to his feet. “He’s a nice guy. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothin’, nothin’. Kenny and I are bros. He comes over to play Minecraft sometimes,” Clyde defended. “It’s just...you asked him? Not the other way around?”

Token nodded.

“Ok, then, yeah, it’s cool. Sorta. I mean, it’s still weird that you go straight for Kenny ‘gives handjobs during prep assemblies’ McCormick, but as long as it was your choice and he’s not trying to mooch off you in your time of pain.” Clyde slung his arm over his shoulder. “I wish you the best.”

“I don’t.” Craig snorted. “You shouldn't just jump into something with someone else to get over Nichole. It’s not healthy. Do you even have legit feelings for him?”

Token had to bite his tongue. Craig couldn't talk about fake dating someone when that was how he and Tweek started dating. Craig didn’t know how much of a hypocrite he sounded like.

But Token couldn’t throw that at him, so instead, he claimed, “I do like him. He’s handsome as hell. He’s nice. Sorry, you can’t see that.”

Before Craig could reply, another arm fell over Token’s shoulders. Kenny set his hand on Token’s chest, sighing in fake disappointment.

“Some people are just blind, Token. Can’t help that.” Kenny slid his arm down. He wrapped his hand around Token’s and squeeze once. He wore a lazily smile in contrast to the shrew, pointed stares of Clyde and Craig.

Before the conversation could continue, the warning bell sounded. Craig pointed two fingers at his eyes then swung them around to point at Kenny. He repeated his action three more times and he stepped into the crowd to head to his locker. Clyde chewed his lip before sighing.

“I’ll see you in English, Token.” He waved. “See you in weights, Kenny.”

“We’ll pump massive iron, my dude,” Kenny promised as Clyde left. Once Clyde was out of earshot, he whispered, “You could have told them. They are your best friends.”

“No. This is temporary. They’ll get over it.” 

Token hoped they would, anyway.

“They’d better. I’m sitting with you at lunch,” Kenny announced. He glanced down at Token’s legs. “You have a big enough lap for me to sit on it, so no one needs to change spots.”

“Wait, what—” But Kenny cut Token off with a kiss on the cheek. “See you at lunch, boo.”

---

Token had had awkward lunches before. Someone would fight with someone else or something distressing would happen to one of them and suddenly everyone else had to be on eggshells. It happened when Craig and Tweek broke up, when Clyde's mom died, when Jimmy dropped the n-word by accident.

All of those times happened within the friend group itself, but this time the eggshells were brought on from the outside.

Token just got settled into his seat, taking out his packed lunch, when Kenny unceremoniously slid his tray in front of Token and shimmied his way into his lap, just like he promised.

The whole time he acted as if this was completely normal. He chatted with Clyde and Jimmy about Minecraft and asked Tweek how he was doing working late at Tweak Bros. 

Craig frowned at Token the whole time, even trying to kick him under the table. He missed. His foot ramming into Kenny's shin and making him flinch back to squish Token's farm-raised turkey on whole wheat into his face. 

Craig wasn't the only silently judging Token. An entire table of girls kept looking over at him and Kenny, then huddling close to whisper before repeating the process several times throughout lunch.

Nichole said she thought his plan was silly and wouldn't work, but told him if it made him feel better, she would support him and try to smooth things out before the girls did something drastic without telling them the real details. 

Hopefully, she smoothed everything soon, since the look Red sent him made his skin goose prickle.

Once lunch ended--thank God--Kenny kept himself pressed against Token side, holding their laced fingers together. A few steps into the main hallway, he pulled him into a less populated hall.

He asked in a whisper, “How was that? Was it boyfriend-y enough? Or should I have kissed you on the lips or something?”

Token raised his shoulders. “It did its job. No complaints.” 

Except that Kenny had a bony ass and it was uncomfortable as hell, but Token didn’t say that. He’d have to bring a coat to lunch and have that on his lap as extra padding. It would save his legs and make him look like more of a top-notch boyfriend than he already was.

Kenny smiled. “Good, but, if you want to be more convincing yourself, you should try to interact with me more. You were just kind of...embarrassed and stiff the whole time. Loosen up, bro.” With that, he gave Token a half hug and headed to class.

---

After the first week, everything seemingly calmed down. The girls still gave him the stink eye when he passed them in the hall, but they hadn’t done anything else to him, thankfully. His friends begrudgingly accepted when Kenny chose to sit with them at lunch without complaints. No one tried to give him advice or set him up with anyone. 

All in all, his plan was going swimmingly!

Kenny huddled down in his coat. A biting chill blew off of Stark’s Pond and hit them as they walked hand in hand beside it. Kenny pulled at his hood strings one at a time until his face was all but covered, just like when they were kids.

Token craned his head to look at his face. He frowned.

“Are you ok? You look...eh.” Token asked, fighting to keep his hand in Kenny's. If Kenny was sick, he didn’t want it. Kenny blinked, slowly processing the question, then nodded.

“Just tired as hell. Mr. Kim is down a waiter, so I’ve been taking orders, running food out, and dishwashing.” He yawned. 

“Don’t overwork yourself. You’ll die.” Token said, only half-joking. 

A muffled snort of amusement came from Kenny. “If only.” 

He froze suddenly. Before Token could ask what was wrong, he pushed his hood back and tilted his head to the side. He frowned.

“Do you hear that? The quacking?” 

Token listened then looked around. There was a quacking sound, but it didn’t sound like normal duck chatter. This sounded distressed. 

“Over there!” Kenny pulled Token forward. He stumbled but caught himself well enough to keep up. The two turned a bend in the path and found a gaggle of sixth graders and several upset mallards. The sixth graders cackled as half plucked feathers from a duck’s tail and the others held more ducks by their necks.

Token started to pull Kenny away. They should call Officer Barbradey. Token was sure he knew some of those kids from church. On Sunday, he could mention it to his mom, who would no doubt go talk to their parents and—

Kenny let go of Token’s hand and marched forward.

“What the fuck are you dillweeds doing?” He demanded. 

The sixth-graders jumped. Kenny was not a very big man. He wasn’t short, like Clyde, or gangly, like Craig. He had muscles, but he wasn’t broad-shouldered and intimidating.

Usually.

As he marched over to the sixth-graders, Kenny McCormick looked like an angry beast.

“Drop those ducks right now.” He ordered. One of the sixth-graders instantly opened his hands. Three ducks fell to the ground. The ducks quickly righted themselves to their feet before turning and fleeing towards the pond.

The other sixth-grader held tight to the waterfowl. 

Kenny growled. “I said drop them. What are you even doing?”

“None of your business. Fuck off.” the sixth-grader holding the ducks down snapped. 

“You’re hurting it. What gives you the right to hurt something smaller than you?” Kenny paused and smirked. “What? Did they bite your ankles, little boy? Did the big mean duckies scare the little pissbaby so he had to go get his friends to help him scare them back? Is that what happened?”

Token reached out and set a hand on Kenny’s arm. “Kenny...”

“What? Am I wrong?” Kenny countered. “Only weaklings pick on others like this.”

The sixth-graders' faces burned red with rage or embarrassment--maybe both, Token couldn’t tell. One of them stood up, hands balled into fists. 

“We ain’t weak! Bring it on, old man!” was all he said before he ran, fist raised.

Kenny pushed Token back with one hand and grabbed the sixth-grader’s arm with the other. In one move, he had the arm pinned behind his back with the sixth-grader gasping in panic.

Though the sixth-grader struggled, Kenny held firm without seemingly any effort.

“I like to think I have an old soul, but a young body,” Kenny quipped.

“Let me go!” 

“Nah. Maybe if your friends let the ducks go, I’ll think about it, though.”

The sixth-grader looked to his friends, who looked at the ducks, who looked at all the humans tormenting them. Finally, one of the sixth-graders nodded and lowered the ducks he held to the ground. Like those before them, the ducks made a beeline for the safety of Stark’s Pond.

With a huff, the final one lifted his hands from the mallard he’d been plucking. The duck wobbled to its feet and took a few steps, enough to get into the bushes, but stopped. 

Kenny shoved the sixth-grader he held forward. “Get lost.” 

Glaring at him, each kid stomped past. 

As one moved past Token, he heard him say, “We did even get enough duck feathers for one throw pillow, man...”

Token shook his head. Had he been that way in sixth grade? 

When he turned around, Kenny crouched near the bushes. He drew the plucked duck out, holding it close to his chest. He stroked it, but it still struggled weakly against him.

“Is it ok?” Token asked.

“I’m not sure. I think they hurt its leg.” He carefully touched the leg, making the duck quack in pain. “No, I’m sure they did. Dumb fucks. Hope they get chlamydia...”

“Little harsh to wish on middle schoolers, don’t you think?” 

“A yeast infection, then,” Kenny corrected, putting the duck’s head under its wing.

Sighing, Token wanted to know, “What will you do with the duck?”

“I am planning on taking him to Stan. He spent last summer helping at the conservation department. He would know what to do,” Kenny explained, unzipping his coat. He gently put the duck inside against his dirty T-shirt. “I guess that means our ‘date’ is over then. Sorry. Half price today, unless u want to pay for the bus ride down the mountain."

Token looked up at the sky. By the time Kenny got down the mountain, if they even let him in on the bus with a live duck, it would be dark. Token's stomach twisted at the thought of Kenny riding the late-night bus back up to South Park. The late-night buses had the worst people, and Token didn't want his fake boyfriend hurt just for a duck.

"Let me take you down there. If I get the car back before curfew, I can borrow it," Token offered.

Kenny blinked at the unexpected kindness before his face broke out into a beaming smile that made Token feel a warmth spread through his chest.

---

Stan face held murder. "Do you know their names? Their families? I bet if a conservation officer showed up at their door they wouldn't think about torturing wildlife ever again." 

Token pressed his lips into a line as Stan looked down at the duck in the dog carrier. 

"I don't know their names, but they go to our church, and I saw them when Nichole did tutoring for fifth graders last year, so I'm sure they are in sixth grade," Token told him. 

Stan adjusted the water through the carrier door.

"I'll pass that on."

"You should tell your wildlife officer friend to go to the middle school and scare the fear of Mother Nature into them all," Kenny suggested. "Threaten to work all of them picking up trash until someone comes forward."

Token snickered. In his experience, sixth-graders were either the most loyal of friends or would throw you under the bus for a cheese danish. Either they would all come forward together or one of them would drag the rest kicking and screaming.

"I just might." Stan set his hand on the carrier.

Mrs. Marsh walked into the living room then.

"Kenny, dear," she beckoned, "could you come here? I have some of Shelly's old clothes. I think they'd fit your sister. Could you come look through them with me for a minute?"

"Oh, sure thing," Kenny replied, heading out the door with Mrs. Marsh

Stan and Token watched him leave them alone. Token rocked on his heels. He'd never been with one of Kenny's friends since they started fake dating. 

From what he could tell in school, Kenny's friend group didn't care. Token was just another fling. That didn't make the silence any less awkward.

Finally, Stan let out a noisy breath through his teeth.

"So," he started, "you and Kenny, huh?"

"Uh, yeah," Token responded, unsure what he was supposed to say.

Stan eyed him in a way that reminded Token a little too much of the way the girls in the hall did before looking away.

"I don't know how to feel about you two."

Token frowned. "It's not your relationship. You don't have to feel anything about it."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Kenny is one of my best friends, and I don't mean that in a bad way. Geez, dude, calm your tits." 

"Then how did you mean it?" Token asked.

Stan raised his shoulder. "I don't know if I should be happy or prepare for the worst." Token went to counter, but Stan cut him off with a raise of his hand. He continued, "This has nothing against you. I know Kenny. I know when things get rough, he throws himself into a relationship because feeling special to someone like that helps releave the stress he has at home."

Stan shook his head. "That said, dude, a relationship with you? That seems like a ticking time bomb. You just got of a relationship with Nichole and you jump in another with Kenny of all people as a rebound? Instead of just dealing with it?"

"I didn't..." Token knew he couldn't force that particular lie, so he trailed off.

Stan put a hand on his forearm. "Look, dude, he's my friend. I don't want him used as a holdover between girlfriends just because you knew he's the kind of guy to say 'yes', at least not right now. Not when he needs someone who can be serious with him."

Token's mouth when dry. He couldn't reply even if he had something to say. 

Stan had him pegged down.

Finally, Token found himself uttering, "Stressed at home? About what?"

Stan eyed him again before snorting and shaking his head.

"I can't say I'm shocked he didn't mention anything. He really must like you to try to keep you around like that."

Token wanted to ask for an elaboration, but Kenny walked in with Mrs. Marsh, a garbage bag throw over his shoulder.

"Thank you again, Mrs. Marsh. These clothes will make Karen's week." Kenny adjusted the bag. To Token he said, "It's getting late. If we leave now, we make probably make it before your curfew."

"I'll call your moms so they both know you left here and are heading home." Mrs. Marsh told them. 

As Token thanked her, Kenny told Stan to take care of the duck and let them know if anything happens with the conservation officer. Stan promised he would as Token and Kenny started towards the door.

In the car, Kenny fell asleep the second they left the Marsh's dirt driveway for smooth asphalt. His chin rested against the bag of clothes in his lap.

Token glanced at him, turning the radio completely off to help Kenny sleep. 

A strange feeling pulled at his mind. He spent half the drive home trying to place a word to it. Just as he turned off the main road towards South Park he found a name.

He felt annoyed.

Annoyed that Kenny might be keeping his personal struggles private.

He wasn't sure why that bugged him so much. Friends could keep a secret or two. It wasn't like they were really dating and it was his responsibility to support him through it. 

Soon enough Token drove up to the McCormick house. He reached over and shook Kenny's shoulder. Kenny blinked, looking around.

"Are we there?" He asked.

"Yeah." 

Kenny opened the door, shoving out the bag of clothes first. Before shutting it, he turned back towards Token.

"Thanks for the ride, man. You're the best." 

Token nodded mutely as Kenny shut the door. He waited until he'd made it into the house before pulled back and heading home.

---

Token poked at his dinner, which was, ironically, honey-roasted duck. After covering the meat with mash potatoes so he couldn’t actually see it, he dropped it in his mouth. The distressed quacking grew in his head until he swallowed. Tonight he’d skip the protein part of the food pyramid.

“Token, baby, what’s the matter?” His mom asked.

Token looked up. “Sorry?”

“You look distracted, son,” His dad commented. “Everything alright? No trouble in school? With your friends?”

“Ah, no, it’s all ok.” He shook his head. “I was just out with Kenny today—” 

His parents winced. They hadn’t told him they were against them dating, but they hadn’t been too happy about their perfect son dating someone like Kenny either.

Ignoring them, he continued, “and some kids were hurting the ducks at the pond. Kenny stepped in and stopped them. It's why I borrowed the car, you know? It was brave, I guess? I didn’t expect it.”

“Well, how sweet. Are the ducks ok?” His mom asked, her tone indicated force interest. 

“Yeah, I think so.” Token stabbed a pea with his fork. He nearly continued his thoughts, but his parents started their own conversation before he could.

Kenny had impressed him today. Token wasn’t going to step up and directly help. It wasn’t his business to punish kids for being bad, after all, but Kenny had no problem with it. He went right up and got involved, like a hero.

Now that Token thought about it, why was he surprised? Kenny had always been self-sacrificing and hero-like. Maybe because he hadn’t seen it this close up since they were kids playing superheroes? Could he have forgotten?

It is a romantic quality, after all.

Token nearly choked on his mouth full of carrots and peas at the thought. His parents responded with concern, but he waved them off, too embarrassed to speak. 

Of all the adjectives, why had his brain chosen ‘romantic’? 

Wasn't he annoyed with Kenny for not telling him about his sister? 

Unless that was why he felt annoyed...

Token pushed his plate back, his head spinning. “I think I’m full,” he said and hurried up to his room to think.

---

“I’ve been working like a dog for the past month, but you’re the one who looks like you’re going to vomit,” Kenny commented idly, tapping his pencil against his textbook. Token’s head shot up.

“I’m fine,” He lied, wondering if Kenny wasn’t a secret mind reader. Token did feel sick, but not from some stomach bug or flu. It was his head making his stomach twist. He’d been trying to sort out his feelings for the last few days with little success. 

Did he like-like Kenny? Was he just admiring him? Kenny was handsome, not as handsome as some of the other boys in the class, but still, better than normal. It was natural to view someone else as handsome without there being anything behind it, right? 

But Token hadn’t just been admiring his looks. He’d been praising him in his head for being brave and caring. He’d watched closely how Kenny did his best to make Token happy as a fake boyfriend when Token did so little in return. He’d listened to the clever jabs and quips made during lunch.

He spent the next night after the incident with the ducks trying to make a good list of negative qualities for Kenny but failed miserably. Everything negative he came up with he either discarded or chalked up to being petty on his part. 

“Are you sure? If you have a cold, I can’t kiss you anymore.” Kenny held up his fingers and crossed them into an x. “I can’t miss work.”

Token waved him off. “I’m just fine. Really. Stress, you know?”

Kenny nodded. “Oh, I know, believe me, I do. Mr. Kim might just work me to death this week. Two waiters out! I half think those dicks eloped together.”

 Token winced. “Don’t talk like that.” He said without his permission.

Kenny raised an eyebrow. “What? The swearing? You swear too.”

“No, no, I...” Token raised his hands. “I don’t like the ‘to death’ stuff. I know its a joke, but I don’t want you to die. I'll stop saying it, too."

Kenny blinked, dropping his pencil. He made no move to pick it up.

“Really? It bugs you that much?” He fingered his hood strings. “Guess having your ‘boyfriend’ die right after your girlfriend moves away would make everyone act really weird around you, huh?”

“It’s not that.” Token shook his head. “I just don’t want you to die. I like you.” He took a breath to soothe his nerves. “You’re a really good friend doing this for me.”

To Token’s surprise, the tops of Kenny’s cheeks glowed pink. Kenny coughed into his hand, looking away.

“I see. That’s awesome, man.” He glanced at the clock on the library wall and sighed. “I gotta get to work.” Using his arm, he slid all his books and papers into his bag and zipped it up. “Bye, sweetie.” He kissed his temple and hurried out.

Token furrowed his brow.

What was that? Did saying they were good friends embarrass him that much? They were friends before, maybe not best friends, but Token always invited him to his birthday party or big sleepovers. Why would knowing it bother him?

He looked down at his book then at where Kenny sat. His eyebrow raised. Kenny forgot his wallet in his rush to escape. 

Token picked up the wallet--held together with duct tape--and turned it over. Kenny got off at six on school nights, so Token could still run by and drop it off and be home by his eight o’clock curfew. 

---

Token tried not to cringe. Fake dating for over a month now or not, Kenny hadn’t once invited Token over. When he'd driven him home, it had been dark. He could barely see it. In the evening light, on the other hand...

It was unspoken amongst their class to acknowledge Kenny’s house was dilapidated, but Token couldn't help but wish he could sweep him away from the ramshackle home.

 If not the added construction built into it during the city’s gentrifying attempts years ago, the house would have fallen in on itself. A rusty car on cinder blocks cut-off half the driveway. Cigarette butts and chew and beer cans littered the ground.

Token took a breath. If Kenny saw him judging his home like this, would he be upset? Would he would feel ashamed at his living conditions?

Either way, Token didn’t want to make him unhappy over something Kenny can’t help so he put on a brave face and started across the lawn. 

Nearly to the door, he heard shouting.

“That wasn’t for you! What the hell?!” Kenny’s angry voice carried over from the back of the house.

“Why are you even trying, boy? We can’t do enough! There’s no point!” 

“If even we can’t do it all, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t fucking try to do a little, you cock-sucking bastard!”

Token took a step back. Carefully he walked around the side of the house to the fence. Crouching, he peeked through a missing plank to the McCormick backyard.

Mr. McCormick and Kenny stood by a pile of deflated tires shouting and pointing at each other, both red-faced, but for different reasons. Mr. McCormick had a beer in his hand and a half-empty six-pack at his feet. The beer sloshed when he moved his arms.

“I’m doing my best! Do you think I like seeing my daughter like that? Huh? Huh? There is nothing we can do.” Mr. McCormick jabbed a finger at Kenny’s chest. “Just give it up.”

With that, he downed the rest of the beer, tossed the can aside, and picked up the six-pack before wobbling into the house. 

Kenny’s shoulders heaved. Even from the fence, Token could hear him breathing heavily in rage. Finally, he threw his leg back and kicked at the snow. A shower of flakes and tiny ice crystals flew into the sky, illuminated only by the setting sun.

“Oh, Kenny...” Token said, debating whether to stand up or leave. He didn’t have much time to debate before Kenny spun around on his heels and made a beeline for the fence. He threw open the gate and slammed it shut.

“That bastard. Motherfucking—” He froze when he saw Token staring up at him. “To...Token? What are you doing here?”

Token took out Kenny’s wallet. “You left this.” 

Somberly, Kenny took the wallet. Their fingers brushed. Kenny’s fingers were freezing. Why didn’t he have his gloves on.

 “Thanks," he whispered. They sat in silence for an uncomfortably long minute before Kenny added, “Sorry you had to see that.”

“What’s the matter?” Token stood, dusting snow from his jeans. “If you want, we can talk about it.”

Kenny sighed. “It’s nothing. It’s nothing.” 

The conversation Token had with Stan played quickly in his head. Any other time, he would have walked away. Told Kenny alright and left it at that, but not today. Not with these feelings.

“I don’t believe that.” He grabbed Kenny’s hand and squeezed. “Tell me what’s wrong. Let me help. I don’t like seeing you sad.”

“...” Kenny smiled crookedly. “You really are good boyfriend material, huh?” He looked around. “Fine. Can we go to the park? I don’t want to stick around here.”

---

“Karen’s hurt.” Kenny swung back. “She hurt her leg and needs physical therapy and we can’t afford it.” He paused then corrected as he swung forward, “We can’t afford it all. I’ve been busting my butt trying to save everything from City Wok and you so she can go at least a little bit.”

Token didn’t swing, just sat on the seat rocking back and forth slightly. 

“Is it that expensive?”

Token had torn his ACL during a game in freshman year and had to take physical therapy. He didn’t remember what the bill was, but it wasn’t that expensive. Maybe twenty-five or thirty dollars each time?

“If you don’t have insurance it is.” Kenny pumped his legs. “And none of us do. If it was only once, then we might be able to make due, but...” He shook his head. “It’s been rough. I’d been keeping my money in my room, but Dad got into it today. That’s what started the fight.”

Token laced his fingers together. He hummed in thought before wanting to know, “Why didn’t you ask me? I could have talked to my parents. They would have helped.”

They wouldn’t have been happy, but they would have at least tried to help if Token brought up that it was a little girl who they were helping and not the whole family. 

Kenny dug his heels into the muddy ground to force his body to a stop. He stared down at his shoes with his lips pulled into a tight line. He took a breath through his nose and let it out.

“I would have, but...God, I don’t want to fucking say this,” he muttered the last part to himself. 

“But?” Token coaxed.

“But I didn’t want to seem like a mooch,” Kenny admitted, not looking at Token, “since I started to like you and all.”

“What?”

Kenny sighed. He met Token’s eyes and Token nearly fell from his swing. 

His gaze was determined, the same look they had when they were kids playing superheroes and Mysterion had set his mind to do something incredibly difficult and incredibly stupid.

“I started to like you. I wanted this fake dating thing to be real. I didn’t think I could ever do that if you thought I was just using you for money, so I kept my problems with my family to myself. I didn't want to drive you off. You make me happy, even if you’re a little selfish. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.” 

He reached out to touch his arm, but stopped and dropped it a second later. “It’s been a month. Other drama already happened, no one will care if we stop. They’ll treat you normal again.”

Token’s mouth opened, shut, and opened again. “Wait, you like me, like, for real like?”

Kenny nodded. “How could I not?” With a lopsided smile, he pressed his palm against Token’s. “Look at how big your hand is. We all know what that means. It would be a crime not to be attracted to someone with a hand this big.”

The tips of Kenny’s fingers came to the last joint in Token’s. 

Token blushed and snorted a laugh. “That doesn’t work like that and you know it.” He curled his fingers forward between his, holding tight to his hand.

“What? Bigger hands, better at holding hands. That’s science, Token,” He teased, lowering his own fingers.

“Kenny, I have a confession, as well.” Token took a breath. “I think I’d like to really date you, too, but I also want to help your sister. Would you let me do both?”

Kenny's entire face went red, from his neck up to the part in his hair. He blinked. A sheen of water still covered his eyes. 

“You’re not fucking with me?” He asked, his voice shaking. “I don’t want to take money from you, though.”

“You won’t. I’ll just mention to my parents about your sister, suggest maybe rallying up the community together a little, and they’ll call Mrs. Brovfloski in the morning. Your family will be able to afford therapy by Friday," Token offered. 

Kenny wiped his cheeks with his free hand. “Nichole lost a great guy when she pushed a turkey out of a plane.”

Token scooted forward then placed a hand on his cheek. With a half-smile, he pressed a kiss to his lips.

As he did, he realized he never once instigated a kiss while they were fake dating. He took kisses to the cheek, but he never kissed Kenny back in any way. What a mistake, he decided while pulling back.

“So this is real now?” Kenny wanted to confirm, wrapping Token in a quick hug. Token squeezed around his shoulder.

“Yeah, it is.”

---

The mallard poked its head out of the carrier and looked around warily. From behind the carrier, Stan, his conversation officer friend, Token and Kenny stood with bated breath.

The mallard, named Mr. Quackers by Stan, waddled from the carrier.

"Go on," Stan whispered, "go home, Mr. Quackers."

Token didn't know if Mr. Quackers understood or even heard Stan, but a heartbeat later the mallard made a straight dash towards Stark's Pond. With a quack of elation, it swam in circles a few times before speeding over to the other ducks. The flock welcomed Mr. Quackers back with open wings.

From farther behind, someone sniffed.

As Token had predicted, when called out on their transgressions against water fowl, all the offending sixth graders came together and admitted what they'd done.

As punishment, all of them had to spend a month's worth of Saturdays picking up trash around Stark's Pond. Given that one of them had an arm covering his eyes, Token assumed the sixth grader had been instilled with a love of the outdoors and nature.

Kenny took a step sideways and leaned against Token’s side. Since they started really dating, Kenny's displays of physical affection subdued.

 He still hung off Token or sat in his lap at lunch, but he no longer went over the top. Small touches; little, flirty hallway whispers in his ear; making a tiny heart shape with his hands across the classroom toward him; butterfly kisses to his knuckles when they held hands. Actions most people didn't think deeply on. 

Token was fine with that. Nichole told him she was happy for him and that was all he needed to let go of his worries and start giving Kenny affection right back, 

He'd hug him from behind and kiss behind his ear or drop his extra coat over his shoulders when the weather was particularly frigid. Every time, Kenny would beam at him.

 Like Stan claimed, Kenny adored feeling special to someone, even with his sister's medical bills all paid up thanks to the power of small town kindness and his home life back to normal.

Maybe Token’s silly plan veered off course, but he wouldn’t complain. He was happy with the result and enjoying his ride on a new plane with Kenny.

Token kissed his temple, Kenny grinned at him, and they turned forward to watch the ducks.

---

Big shout out to my friend @najti-nightmare They were the one who when I jokingly said I should make some Tokenny to then provided the plot hook and main details! They’re a really awesome artist and please check them out!

#south park #tokenny #token black #kenny mccormick #fake dating #one-shot #fanfiction #token x kenny

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Ladies in Waiting and Swimming

y’all have seen the queens and swimming, now get ready for: the best gals and swimming

• Bessie is Sunglasses Mom watching over the water like a hawk

• Maggie is I’m Jumping In Before You Can Douse Me In Sunscreen And There Is Nothing You Can Do About It

• Maria is Sunscreen COLD

• Joan is *Vine voice* I Can’t Swim ™️

• Yeah Joan can’t swim

• They all learned that the hard way

• She still gets in the water anyway

• And she refuses to wear a life jacket

• Joan and Maria personally put together a 24-hour pool playlist

• Some of the songs are normal, some of the songs are from the show, some of the songs are from the show but remixed, some of the songs are fucking weird and god awful, and some of the songs aren’t even songs at all

• Literally fucking blender noises played for three minutes and fifteen seconds

• Bessie: I wonder what song is going to be next.

The “song”:

Bessie: what the fuck

• There was also a terrible kazoo rendition of Heart of Stone while Maria provided loud crying noises in the background

• And then there the cream of the crop, the brightest of the bunch, the one Maria and Joan were waiting for

• “Ex-Wives but whenever Jane says anything it causes another Six song to play in the background”

• All of the songs ended up playing at once and it was total chaos

• The ladies in waiting were laughing so hard they could barely fucking breathe

• Because, like, when the song started Bessie and Maggie were like “Oh it’s Ex-Wives” but then fifteen seconds later they hear the faint “n-n-n-n-n-no way there’s no way” followed by the drum beat and “YOU MUST AGREE THAT BABY-“ while, at the same time, Aragon is saying also saying “And tonight, we are...LIVE!” in Ex-Wives and Joan and Maria go fucking nuts

• But back to the pool shenanigans and not the Cursed Pool Soundtrack

• Maria jokingly bought matching swimsuits because their costumes for the show already match so why the hell not

• But Joan and Bessie didn’t want to wear a bikini so they got a one piece that was the same color

• Their bathing suits are black

• They arrive at the pool like a murder of crows descending from the sky to splash around in a bird bath

• If someone jumps in without getting sprayed by sunscreen Bessie will be like “fine then bitch I hope you burn”

• It’s usually Maria who gets told that the most

• Maria and Joan are honestly so vulgar. They swear a lot but, like, they’re having fun so it’s okay

• Joan: *clambering onto the back of an inflatable swan*

Joan: *slips*

Joan, falling backwards: PUSSY ASS BITCH-

• Maggie is terrible, and I mean TERRIBLE, at hopping onto the inflatable pool toys

• She either slips off immediately, flips the whole thing, or jumps with too much force and ends up leaping right across it

• And the minute she finally gets on Bessie comes out of nowhere and flips the floatie

• Maggie stares at her in shock

• Also Maria always pulls people’s feet for fun

• But Bessie is like “stupid i won’t even let you get the cHANCE”

• Maria tries to grab her foot and she raises that leg without looking down, and when Joan comes back up she gives her the Mom Look ™️

• Meanwhile Joan was wading over to join them but got distracted by some cool beads on the pool floor in the shallow end and has been picking them up for the past seven minutes

• Maria drags her over and she drops all of them

• She literally clings to one of the other liw’s backs like a koala or hangs onto one of the floaties

• Now that they’re all in they decide to play some pool games

• Bessie is the best at Marco Polo

• If you thought she was too cool or mature to lunge at the nearest person like a jungle cat moving faster than the speed of light, you were wrong, buddy she will do what it takes to WIN

• It’s actually kind of terrifying

• Especially when her black hair is in her face and her eyes are shut so she looks like a blind swamp monster relying only on the stench of fear you give off from her oncoming attack

• Maggie is the absolute worst at Marco Polo poor girl

• She’s Too Loud

• The other three literally just floated in the deep end while Joan is Marco and watched her walk in circles for five minutes

• It was the funniest when she thought she heard them and would whip around which makes the other ladies in waiting go fucking nuts, especially when she whirls back around and ends up spinning around like a disoriented duck that can’t seem to figure out where the bread crumbs are

• Maria is a big cheater

• Whenever the Marco gets close enough to her and she leaps out of the water and runs to the other side of the pool

• Or she’s always underwater because she can hold her breath for a long time

• Okay, so, chicken? Maggie and Maria are an unstoppable team

• They fought the queens during a pool party and won every round

• However

• Maria and Joan? The shittiest team

• Joan is worried about falling off because Maria is going into the deep end so she instinctively wraps her legs around Maria’s throat and digs her fingernails into her scalp and Maria is floundering around while this kid anxiously pulls on her hair like she’s trying to control her like Remmy from Ratatouille

• Or sometimes Joan straight up gets distracted by Maria’s hair and is like “oooh soggy bois”

• Meanwhile Maria is like “Joan just push them”

• Maria assures Joan she’s got her

• She does not.

• Maggie is not got.

• Maria ends up plowing into the other team which makes Joan shriek and she usually ends up slipping off or gets knocked off

• Bessie on anyone’s shoulders is very terrifying

• Bessie carrying anyone is also terrifying

• If they don’t do their part she will do it for them because she wants to fucking win this

• Joan and Maggie are a very dysfunctional team

• “Joan I’m gonna fall” Maggie says while Joan hops from foot to foot, warming up for the next match

• “You’re not gonna fall. I got you.” Joan assures her, grabbing her knees in an iron grip

• Maggie falls because Joan goes to deep and submerges herself and starts freaking out

• When Joan is on Maggie’s shoulders, Maggie charges forward with so much force that Joan flies backwards but is still being held onto by the legs so her upper body is being dragged through the water while Maggie fucking goes ham on the other team

• Marco Polo and Chicken are normal pool games. These gals love to play Shark

• I don’t know if that’s its actual name or if other people play it, but me and my brother do and it’s a game where someone is the shark and they basically have to chase and drag the other people to a certain location in any means possible. Do whatever you can to get the victims to the shark cave.

• Or you can just fight them

• The “shark cave” is one of the staircases

• Bessie is a terrifying shark

• She has no mercy

• She will win

• Maggie throws her entire body onto anyone close enough when she’s the shark

• Maria fought her once

• Maria is a master at the “twist and pull” technique

• If she’s grabbed she will slip free

• Joan clings to limbs like a goddamn leach

• Once she’s on she’s on

• You might not get pulled to the stairs but you’re not getting her off

• Bessie picked Maggie up once and literally just carried her to the staircase

• They also have noodle fights

• They all wield pool noodles like the legendary sword Excalibur

• And they also swing way too hard

• All the other people at the pool stare in horror as these four women wearing matching swimsuits starting beating the absolute shit out of each other

• There’s a lot of cussing

• Joan: GET READY TO DIE FUCKERS I WILL FEED YOUR TITS TO THE BIRDS

Bessie: NOT IF I KILL YA FIRST CUNT

Maria: YOU ARE ALL PATHETIC COCKSUCKERS WHO WILL BLEED BENEATH MY BLADE PREPARE TO PERISH YOU PETTY PENIS-LICKING WHORES

Maggie: BITCH I WILL RIP YOUR SLUTTY ASS PUSSY TO SHREDS

Everyone else at the pool:

• They tried to teach Joan how to swim before

• Maria uses the “throw the child in the water” technique

• “Sink or swim, bitch”

• It didn’t work

• Joan: Hey Bessie look at me

Bessie: *looks at her*

Joan: *spits water in her face*

• Joan was never heard of again

• The queens: *show up to the pool for a pool party with the ladies in waiting* :)

The ladies in waiting: *literally fucking mauling each other in the water, swearing loudly as assorted monster noises blast from a nearby speaker*

The queens:

#this is long but!! they deserve this much!! #they deserve it and so much more!! #I love them so much!! #give them more content!! #ladies in waiting #maggie on the guitar #bessie on the bass #maria on the drums #joan on the keys #six the musical headcanons #six the musical

[grailacademy]

Welcome to Grail Academy

Chapter 30: Conquest

It wasn’t any noise that stirred Yorick from his slumber, but rather the lack thereof. He had dozed off in the truck as Sable’s organization drove to Calicem’s border, his head softly vibrating against the window. But when that soothing shaking stopped, his eyes snapped open. “Why are we stopped…?” He yawned and rubbed his eyes, looking to Rettah for an answer. She was staring out the window at a series of headlights blocking the truck’s paths. “Do you think they’re police?”

Yorick shook his head. “No...they would need more time to get here.”

“Well, who else knows about us?”

“Nobody, besides my old team.” He sighed, and a ping of realization hit him. He and Rettah shared the same expression. “You don’t think…”

Before they could respond, an orchestra of sound soared from the engines of the assailants. Queenie patted Yorick on the shoulder, speaking softly, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. Stay in the truck, don’t let them see you.” With that, she hopped out of the vehicle with her hands up, and moved slowly to what she could now see were a row of motorcycles.

“We don’t want any trouble” she started, and suddenly they were upon her. A figure, whose face was hidden under a blue bike helmet, dashed and quickly grappled her, pinning Queenie’s arms behind her head with the end of a blade against her throat. Queenie didn’t even see the swords hanging in sheathes from the attacker’s belt, but the moment the cold metal grazed her skin, she halted her breathing. A distorted, deep voice came from under the helmet, shouting towards the line of trucks. “Nobody moves, or I paint the road with her.” Following this threat, another biker dismounted and stepped forward, their orange helmet emitting a similar vocal distortion to their speech. “Come out, witch. We know you’re in there.”

Inside the truck, Rettah held a tight grip on Yorick’s shirt as she watched the hostage situation. “How the hell do they know about Sable!?” Scarlet growled, pushing his way to the front of the truck to peer out the window. “They’re bluffing, they have to be.”

Surprisingly, the door of the truck ahead of them swung open, and Sable stepped down. She wore a heavy parka, thick enough to hide her face and cover enough of her body that people wouldn’t find the lack of color to her skin suspicious. Strands of black hair writhed within the darkness of the hood, and she smiled at the four bikers. “What can I do for you, my dears?”

The biker with the blue helmet shouted, “You can turn the fuck around and go right back where you came from, for starters!” The biker in orange held up their hand to silence their partner, and spoke in a calmer tone, “You know Madehold will only find you and bring you back herself if you don’t. This doesn’t have to be hard. Only if you make it.”

Sable chuckled at that. First quietly, but it slowly grew into a raucous cackle. She threw her head back in laughter, wiping a tear away from her eye once she calmed down. “Ah, I’m afraid I can’t do that. Do you know how long I’ve been trapped in that cesspool of a city, scavenging and surviving?” As she spoke, she pulled her hood down and began strolling closer and closer to the group. The two that were still on their bikes reached towards their waists for concealed weapons. “You see, my friends and I have been working on this little project of ours for a very, very long time. And now that the barrier’s down, well...it’s time for us to share it with the rest of Remnant.” A black tendril whipped out and caught the orange biker in the throat, strangling them and lifting them off the ground. They gagged, and the blue team member let go of Queenie to slice down the branch of hair with their swords to free them. This only gave Queenie the opportunity to incapacitate them, planting an explosive card on the back of their helmet and smirking as they were knocked unconscious by the blast, their helmet now shattered to pieces. “Oh, Queenie, how sweet of you!” Sable smiled to the girl, petting her head. “Go back to the truck, honey. I can take care of the rest, it’s no trouble.”

Queenie vacated the area as the other three mystery bikers stepped forward. The orange figure unfolded a staff with an ignition point at the end, and the two in back both pulled long intricate chains from their belts. They stood ready to fight, but they were no match. A swirl of tentacles shot from Sable, hacking and slashing like a massive blender, until all the assailants were unconscious and dangling from nearby tree branches. She brushed the dust off her hands and crawled back into the passenger seat of the truck. “Well then, that takes care of that. Shall we continue?” The pack of trucks pushed forward, wrecking all four of the motorbikes that stood in their way.

--------------------------

“So, what do we do now?” Nico called out to his brawling teammates from the bleachers of the training hall. As Esmerelda flung herself into the air to dodge Bernard’s whip, she could see through the skylight that the sun was once more beginning to set. She landed gracefully on her feet, like a cat, and placed a hand on her hip. “I don’t know, but it’s almost nightfall again, which means the clocktower will reset the day soon.”

Bernard grumbled and wrapped his weapon around his forearm, inspecting some of the fraying portions of metal. “Does this mean we never actually went to that bar in the first place?” Both Esmerelda and Nico stared at him, confused. “I...I guess not. Haha, hey! That’s great! Now I’m not on the biker gang’s shit-list!” Nico clapped in joy, propping his feet against the back of a bleacher seat. Esmerelda only pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, hissing, “Well, I’m not as content to relive the same day for all eternity, darling.” She began to pick her nails angrily, continuing, “What does Madehold expect us to do? Fix it for her!? It’s like the only things adults are good at are lying to us and making us take care of their problems.”

Bernard put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, and Nico proceeded to start playing around with his bat, balancing it on his nose like a seal. “Why don’t we just let her take care of it, then? It’s a city problem, not a student problem.” Esmerelda then snapped her fingers to get Nico’s attention, and as he lost his concentration, the bat toppled over and clocked him in the forehead. “Have you forgotten that we LIVE in the city? Calicem’s barriers are down, which means anyone can get out. And by anyone, I mean Sable, and Yorick. Not to mention, anyone can get in too. Or, anything.” Nico rubbed the sore spot on his forehead that was beginning to bruise, and exclaimed, “Oh please, grimm are the last thing I’m worried about! Everyone in Calicem is too high, drunk, or stupid to get emotional enough to draw them. They’re goddamn zombies!”

Just as he finished his sentence, a distant screech erupted from the far end of the city. First one, then dozens. Bernard and Esmerelda both frowned at him, and Nico rushed to grab his weapon as he defended himself, shouting “Hey, that wasn’t my fault! Don’t look at me like that!”

The three of them rushed out of the training hall, sprinting across the quad and spotting BRVI bursting out of the dorm hall, weapons at the ready. They grouped together, following the sounds of anguish to its source: A group of Creep grimm herding around a building’s storefront, clambering up the walls and snapping their teeth at the people cowering inside through the window glass. Six on the building, and many more stalking through the streets, large and small. The hunters immediately got to work, hacking away at the monsters until the storefront was cleared. Bernard and Vert ushered the civilians out the back door, and Esmerelda pointed at the leftover Creeps scaling the side of the building. “Ivan and I can take care of the stragglers. Beau, Iris, Nico, you three follow their trail and find out where they’re coming from. Bernard and Vert are on civilian duty.” Beau was about to protest when she realized that she and her team were being bossed about by someone who wasn’t their leader, but the steadfastness in Esmerelda’s tone told her that it would be better to do as she said. Beau, Iris, and Nico ran in the direction that the first wave of grimm had come from.

“The grimm sure did pick a good time to attack, when everyone else is away on winter break.” Ivan stated sarcastically, wedging the ends of his blades into the cracks of the brick and beginning the climb. Esmerelda rolled her eyes, “I’m taking the stairs.” She made her way up the stairwell inside, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of dejá vu from when she was in the same situation, chasing Yorick at the hotel. That was the last time she saw him. The thought made her push further, until she kicked the door to the roof open and was met with a trio of Creeps, who spun around at her sound and hissed, claws bared. Esmerelda bared her claws as well, and lunged for the closest creature’s throat. Her nails sunk deep into it’s skin, breaking the scaly exterior and holding the grimm in a headlock. “IVAN!” She called, and her impromptu partner flung himself over the ledge of the roof and landed on the Creep’s back, taking the opportunity to sever its head inches from where Esmerelda’s hands were. The grimm’s headless body stumbled about for a bit before finally collapsing. This, of course, did not make the other Creeps very happy, and they screeched at them.

Meanwhile, as Bernard and Vert did their best to direct the foot traffic away from danger, Nico led the charge towards the source of the attack. “Stay on your toes!” Beau shouted to him, but Nico just ignored her and kept on running, ducking to avoid a passing grimm’s claw. He danced around the creatures, unknowingly leaving Beau and Iris to clean up his mess. It was only when he heard Iris yelling that Nico slid to a stop. He spun around, adrenaline pumping through him, and Iris called out to him, “Hey, Nico!” She thrusted her fist into the air and formed horns with her index and pinky finger, a gesture that Nico copied with zealousness and a smile. He continued his pursuit alone, building up more and more speed with each step he took. Soon, he was out of earshot of his friends, and it fell eerily quiet. The sound of Creeps could only be heard in the distance. Nico slowed to a walking pace, making sure to keep his bat ready just in case. He walked down the empty streets, feeling something familiar about the scene. Then he saw it, the bar they went to the other day. Or, maybe it would be this day? He wasn’t sure how the whole thing worked, and he wasn’t going to bother figuring it out.

“This is the edge of the city…” He muttered to himself, “...The barrier must be around here somewhere.” That was when he heard it. Boom. Boom. Boom. At first he thought it was someone’s bass-boosted car radio blasting muffled music, but the beats were too off. Boom. Boom. Boom. It was getting closer. He couldn’t tell from what direction it was coming from. He quickly flipped the switch on his weapon and brandished his bow staff, backing away slowly. “Whatever’s out there, I’m warning you! Don’t mess with me, I’ve got the power of heavy metal on my side!”

A gust of warm air suddenly hit the back of Nico’s neck, ruffling his mohawk. He froze. He could hear a soft growling rumbling from something’s gut. Slowly, he turned, and Nico’s face was now mere inches away from the gaping maw of a gigantic prehistoric Creep grimm. Just one of its teeth was as big as his head, and the only reason it wasn’t towering over the other buildings in the area was because it was hunched down, eye to eye with a scrawny pink haired weasel of a boy.

----------------------

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

----------------------

Birds scattered from their treetops. Civilians rushing from the scene turned their heads. The loudest, highest pitched scream anyone on team EBN or BRVI had ever heard erupted from Nico’s direction. Esmerelda facepalmed, and Ivan nudged her shoulder, “I think your little buddy found where the grimm are coming from, heheh.” She slapped the nuisance upside his head and leapt off the roof. Springing back and forth, from one window ledge to the other, until she landed on the ground gracefully like a cat on her feet right next to Bernard. “Let’s go.”

------------------------

“Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit-” Nico huffed his words breathlessly as he ran for his life, the monster’s giant feet missing him by centimeters every step it took. “Okay, big guy! I’m sorry! I didn’t know this was your turf, I totally understand! You need some privacy, get yourself some me-time! I get it! Let me just get out of your hair, I’ll be on my way, you’ll never hear from me again! I promise!” He didn’t exactly know why he was trying to negotiate with the creature, and when he realized how stupid this really was, Nico halted abruptly. “Ah shit...I’m gonna have to fight that thing, aren’t I?” He looked over his shoulder anxiously, and watched the grimm get closer. “...Alright, let’s get this over with.” He took a fighting stance with his bat raised, his eyes shut tight to avoid looking at the beast. “If I die, at least I’ll go out in a blaze of glory.”

But he didn’t die. He waited, and waited, yet there was no sharp pain to signify that the gigantic Creep’s teeth had begun the process of crushing his skull. Confused, he opened one eye cautiously, and saw that the grimm was somehow getting farther away now. “Huh?” It took a moment for him to process the situation. He was now sitting in the arms of a masked figure, resting in their lap as they sped away on a worn motorbike. The person’s helmet was scratched and cracked, the blue paint beginning to flake off. The vehicle squealed as it turned on the rear wheel, stopping once some distance was made between the grimm and themselves. Nico got to his feet and immediately pointed his bat in the figure’s face. The person reached up to push his weapon away, but spikes suddenly judded from the end, and they pulled their hand back. “Who the hell are you, and why did you help me back there?” Nico interrogated with a furrowed brow.

“Chill out, man. We’re cool.” The figure with the helmet raised their hands to surrender, their voice was disfigured through the helmet’s malfunctioning filter. “Yeesh, it gets so hot under this thing. I’m just gonna take it off, okay?” Nico stepped backwards and warned them, “Slowly. You make any moves, it’s bye-bye to your motor skills. And I don’t mean the bike.”

The figure nodded, and slowly lifted the helmet off. Nico’s eyes widened. He dropped the bat, and it clattered and rolled across the pavement. He almost stumbled and fell backwards from tripping on it.

“...Yale…”

#rwby #rwby oc #team ebny #ebny #grail #grail academy #welcome to grail academy #fanfic #fanfiction #oc #original character #oc fanfic #oc fanfiction #writing #punk #rwby oc fanfic #rwby oc fanfiction #rwby fanfic #rwby fanfiction #nico #esmerelda #bernard #yorick

[storiesabouthumanandthings]

Milkshake 3

His milkshake?

(This is the last one.....i hope)

The woman was cleaning out her house with the help of the gentleman from down the block. She simply scooped up the broken blender and its pieces into a small grocery bag to throw away. Before throwing it away, a teenage boy rolled by on his bike. He could see electrical components sticking out of the bag. He stopped and pull up to the woman right before she dropped the bag in. "can I have that?" He quietly asked. Unable to her him the woman asked what. He repeated slightly louder, "may I have that? I play with electronics and it looks like I could..." before he could finish she woman handed him the bag, "it's trash, I don't need your life story. Just be careful with it. It's, like, cursed or something." The boy took the bag with a raised eyebrow. He thanked her and hurried back home. He inspected the main electrical pieces. A few welds and everything should work. He slowly glued all the glass pieces and covering back together. After the weekend was over, he had it rebuilt. The glass blender was still unusable but the base worked fine. He was planning to throw the blender out now he fixed it but it was late and he had school in the morning. He left the blender in the basement for the week, forgetting about it. 

The weekend came and he got his hands on some new electronics, a few broken phones with cracked screens and old tablets. He was hoping to combine the two. When coming down stairs he saw the blender was whole. It still had lines where he glued but it was all solid. Is this what the woman meant by cursed? A healing blender? How is that a curse? He immediately decided that it needed to be tested. He went slow, blending fruits and soft items. He slowly increased the hardness of the items to be blended until it was just solid ice. Once done, he decided it was strong enough for everyday uses. He now had to dispose of a lot of random liquids into the garden without being seen for wasting food. He pushed the random containers of random liquids outside the basement window. As he did so, he could hear his new favorite sound. The roar of a motorcycle. Instead of finishing the task at hand, he went to the front yard. He was a few houses down but he could still see the motorcycle. It was in poor condition but he fantasized about working on it, making it better with a few extra components. He also envied the bike owner. He always thought she was so free and cool, he wished he was more like that. After staring probably longer than normal, he realized he still had a task to do. 

He went to the back of his property and began to poor the liquids into his mother’s garden bed, hoping it all to soak into the soil before anyone would notice. Once finished, he went back to his basement. He couldn’t see how a this blender could be cursed. It did seem abnormal that it sorta healed but that might be some new material. Or maybe the heat of the glue welded it together. He didn’t care, but he did want to test it some more. But it was getting late again and he had a busy day tomorrow. 

The next day was a lot of yard work. He was tasked to clean the yard. He hated that was his chore, the sun was a deadly laser in his mind. It was always too hot and it didn’t seem to matter how much sun block he used, he always ended up burnt. He mowed the lawn, raked the clippings and any debris the blew in. He also watered the lawn and garden, which he was actually thankful for since his experiment was still mostly laying on top. After watering, most of the remains were dispensed out or covered with dirt. By the time he finished, the sun was setting. He made his way to the basement. He wanted to go to bed but the basement was cooler than his room. He saw the blender and immediately knew what he wanted. He begrudgingly made his way back upstairs, gather the ingredients and began to make his well deserved snack. His parents left for the night so it was up to him to make his dinner. A simple milkshake sounded perfect. He washed the blender, making sure that there was no remnants of his experiments or glue floating about.

Once finished, he plopped himself down in front of his homemade entertainment system, piece together from other’s trash. The surround sound was so great, he nearly missed the the banging at his front door. He was slow to answer. Before opening the door, he peered through the peephole. He noticed his yard was filled with people. He immediately began to panic. This must be the vandalized that has been hitting the neighborhood for the past month. He began backing up when he heard screaming voices from outside. He patted himself down when he realized he left his phone in the basement. Suddenly his front door flew open and the girl that owned the bicycle was in his house with another girl. 

“Dammit!” screamed the delivery girl, “they are already inside!” She swung her bat high behind her, getting ready for the swing. The boy collapsed onto the floor, covering his face. “Wait!” screamed the girl, “He’s different. He’s not in a zombie state.” The girl extended a hand, “we’re here to help. Now is your mom or sister or any female relative in the house?” The boy shook his head, taking her hand slowly. “What’s going on?” Screamed the deliver girl over the banging at the door. “I don’t know but we got to get out of here.” The delivery girl nodded and held a hand, “Come with me if you want to live.” The girl huffed and rolled her eyes. The delivery girl answered defensively, “Oh come on, that was funny! And I always wanted to say that and when am I going to get another chance?” The girl snapped back angrily, “Next weekend, with our luck. And we need to study for finals to make sure you graduate and I still have top grades.” The delivery girl pouted, “My grades aren’t that bad.” 

“Hey!” called out the boy, “escape?” The girl nodded, still holding onto his hand, “Follow us and we will try to keep you safe.” The girl stood at the door. The delivery girl took a few steps back, stretched and rolled her neck, making it pop at the joints, “Let’s do this, baby!” The girl rolled her eyes and smiled, “such a drama queen.” The girl yanked the door open as the delivery ran full speed towards it, using the bat in front of her as a sort of battle ram, pushing and hitting boys out of the way. The girl quickly followed behind her, pulling the boy with them. As they ran, some of the boys were able to react and were reaching out at the boy. He screamed as they ran, occasionally needing the delivery girl to hit a few back or the girl to yank him up and away from them. They eventually cleared the thick part of the mob. The delivery girl jumped on her bike, starting it up fast, “everyone hold on tight, I’ve never done this with 3 people.” The girl held onto the delivery girl and the boy held onto the girl as the slowly rolled down the street shakily. 

They were eventually able to clear the crowd and stopped at a nearby park. “We can’t stay here long but we can’t out run them,” stated the delivery girl. The girl walked in circles, “I know, I know but what has changed?” The girl turned to the boy, “are you sure none of the women in your house were there? or did they make a milkshake before leaving the house?” The boy shook his head, “No, I was the only one home. I did make a milkshake. How did you know this?” The girls’ heads shoot at him, “You made a milkshake?!” He nodded taking a step back, like he was being sculled. “Did you buy a blender from a gypsy?” asked the delivery girl. “Or just a yard sale from a woman?” The boy shook his head. The girls’ sighed exhausted, not liking his answer. “I did get a blender recently.” The girls continued to talk on their own, ignoring him. “If it wasn’t the blender, then all of our previous theories are wrong,” worried the girl. “Maybe not, maybe this is a new curse. Maybe he is cursed with something else,” suggested the delivery girl. The girl shook her head, “No, we are just missing something.” 

“Curse? A cursed blender?” asked the boy. The delivery girl nodded, “It started with this one,” pointing at the girl, “and then again with the neighbor. But we destroyed the blender, so end of story.” “apparently not,” grumbled the girl. The delivery girl continued, “all we know is the blender zombiefied all the boys in the neighborhood, if not the whole town, to the girl or woman who made a milkshake in the blender, causing them all to go to her house.” “Oh!” exclaimed the boy. The delivery girl nodded, “and that’s what has been our date night for the past month basically.” The boy whispered quietly, “I, um, fixed the blender.” “What?!” screamed the girl. The boy suddenly spurted everything out, “The woman said it was cursed but who believes in curses anymore and I just wanted a puzzle to I put it back together and forgot about it, after a week, the blender was whole again after gluing it together, and it seemed more of a blessing than a curse, and I had a hot day and I wanted a cold drink so I made a milkshake and how was I to know it knew it was really cursed and how does it know I am a woman, no one knows that but me.”

The park became quiet except for the income steps of the neighborhood boys. The girl spoke first, “Wait, so your trans-woman?” The boy, now new girl nodded, tearing up a little. The delivery girl blurted out, “Forget that, how did you fix it?!” The new girl blinked, “What?” “How did you fix it, she smashed the shit out of the stupid blender and you just fixed it?” The new girl nodded, “well yeah. I am good with electronics so I put the peaces back together. I looked at the blended as a 3D puzzle and just put it back together with some circuitry soldering and superglue.” The girl began to laugh, “now it all makes sense. He, I mean she, sorry. She put the cursed blender back together, it magically healed, She made a milkshake, and it brought the boys to her yard. The theory still works!” The delivery girl nodded, “so next, we do what we have been doing, destroy the blender and the milkshake and we should be ok?” The girl nodded, “Let’s hurry back to her house before it gets worse.”

It was a quick ride back to the street. It was already packed. “I don’t we are getting through this way,” stated the delivery girl. “What other way do we have?” ask the girl. “I have an idea,” the new girl offered. She quickly pointed to the next block over and had them stop at an unseeming house. “Now, we run through this person’s yard, climb the back fence, and get inside my house. The blender in in the basement so we can squeeze through a small window.” The girls’ nodded and ran through the back yard. Once reaching the fence, the deliver girl tossed her bat and lifted the girl over. The new girl attempted to climb over herself but had no upper body strength to speak of. The delivery girl walked over to where the new girl was basically dangling off the fence and hefted her over with little effort. She was able to run, jump, and yank herself over the wall with ease.

Once over, they could see the boys start filing in on either side of the house. “Quick,” yelled the new girl. They ran to the window. The new girl opened in the window, “Go in first. You apparently know what to do.” The girl climbed through first. “Okay, now you,” said the delivery girl. The new girl shook her head, “No you, leave me the bat and I’ll hold off until your in. You know how to stop this, I don’t” The delivery girl nodded and handed the bat over. The new girl ran towards some of the boys, knocking them down and pushing them back, then running to the other side, trying to hold them back. “Okay, it’s clear, it’s your turn,” called the delivery girl. The new girl ran to the window. She tossed the bat in first and began to crawl in. She was about half in when the boys began to pull on her legs, “Help,” she screamed. The girl grabbed the new girl’s hands, “Don’t let go.” “I don’t plan to.” The girl began to pull the new girl in in a tug-o-war effort. The delivery girl quickly found the blender and re-smashed it. “Do you have a cup of it?” the delivery girl called out. The new girl nodded, “yes but it’s in my favorite cup!” “I’ll buy you a new damn cup, where is it?” “Next to the TV.” The delivery girl grabbed it and slammed it to the ground next to the blender.

Once the cup shattered, the boys released and the new girl came flying in on top of the girl. The delivery girl walked over with an extended hand, “Oh we save your life and now you’re trying to steal my girlfriend.” The new girl quickly got up, “What?! No! I wasn’t doing anything!” The delivery girl laughed, “I was only joking. Now let’s clean this mess up.” They piled all the glass in once spot and the solid blender pieces in another. They bagged the up separate. They walked around the block, most of the boys had dispersed by now, a few were confused where they even were, pulling up maps on their phone or calling for a ride. They got back onto the delivery girl’s bike and rode to a secluded area, holding the bags on opposite sides of the bike. Upon arrival, the girl’s went into separate directions, set both bags on fire, and buried the pieces separate. “That should be the last of that,” exclaimed the girl. 

They all returned back to the new girl’s house. “Hey, Thank you both for tonight.” The delivery girl shrugged, “we had nothing better plan.” The new girl nodded and continued slowly, “but you now know something about me that no one else does. not my parents. not my friends.” The girl stepped up and grabbed her hand, “Your secret is safe. Plus, if you need help again, just give us a call.” The delivery girl wrapped an arm around the new girl’s shoulder, “Plus aren’t we friends now. We did just defeat a curse and a horde of zombie boys.” The new girl nodded, “yeah, I guess that would make us friends.” “Just one question though. What do we call you?” the delivery girl asked. “What?” said the new girl. “What do we call you? Like I knew your name from classes but now that you are out, to us at least, do we still call you that or do you have a new, preferred name?” The new girl blinked, “Oh. Um, well, I haven’t thought of a new name. Do I need a new name? I was just planning to come out after I moved away” The girls shook their heads, the girl speaking, “You don’t need a new name but we will support you in whatever you need and will stand with you when you come out.” The new girl nodded, “well, just call me the same name for now.”

As they talked, their stomach’s began to growl, the delivery girl spoke first, “Pizza?” the girl rolled her eyes, “why always pizza?” “Because pizza is awesome,” answered the new girl. “You are going to fit in great here,” laughed the delivery girl, “I’ll run to work and get a couple of boxes and we can eat.” The new girl nodded, “when you come back, I want to talk to you about your bike.” “What about this piece of junk?” “Well I am always messing with electrics. I can update your headlights and turn signals, maybe add electric readers.” “You can do that?! that’ll be awesome!” The new girl shrugged, “if I can find parts, sure. In the mean time, I can get some make up tips from you?” turning to the girl. She almost squealed, “Oo, makeover! She never lets me put make up on her unless it’s something extreme for possible concert ideas.” The delivery girl rushed to Barnyard Pizza, and they had a girls night in to relax. 

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#humans are weird #milkshake #my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard #trans #mtf #trans support #lgbtpride #why doesn't tumblr show trans suggestion? #trans erasure? #wtf tumblr