tow head

Merge

A singularity was about to form in the Fenton’s basement. Clockwork was drawn there, intrigued by the absence of what might be. Each of his thirty mirrors, made from the cursed silver given to Judas, showed him hours of nothing. It was unusual. After millennia of predictability, Clockwork was understandably curious.

He stood there, just outside the realm of reality, watching as Danny Phantom floated down the stairs with his friends in tow. Clockwork shook his head at the sight of the boy. Once again, the ghost thought, leaning on his staff, the young Phantom will be involved in something I cannot foresee.

Then a smirk crossed his face. I should have guessed. He’s quite predictable in that fashion.

Danny was holding some sort of human device, showing his friends and giving a mangled explanation of what it was supposed to do.

Clockwork drifted forwards, hovering over the boy’s shoulder. To Clockwork’s gaze, the device seemed to glow with possibilities, each of them reaching into the rapidly encroaching blackness. This device… it will be the cause of the singularity. The ghost was tempted to snatch the thing from the boy’s hands. The future was too fragile a thing to be left up to chance.

It happened faster than Clockwork thought possible. The male friend’s hands gleamed like bright twin stars just before he grabbed the device. The device flared with an accidental button press, a blast of energy scooping up the young Phantom and sending him flying backwards - straight into Clockwork, who was just corporeal enough for the halfling to make contact. Both the time ghost and the halfling tumbled backwards through a badly-placed Fenton Ghost Catcher, side: merge.

Danny… Clockwork… Danwork?… Clockny?… pushed himself to his hands and knees on the other side of the Fenton Ghost Catcher. He sat up, brushing the hood off his head and blinking at the two humans (my friends?) through white bangs. The time staff was sitting next to him, now colored in a bland palate of black and white. Oh, he thought, this is not good.

“Danny?” Sam whispered, creeping up and holding out a hand. “What happened?”

“Exactly what was supposed to happen, I suppose,” Danny-Clockwork said with a sigh.

Tagged by @imusuallyobsessed who always remembers me n these games I love. thank you.

rules: tell your followers 11 random facts about you and tag 11 other people in return. The facts can be absolutely anything, whatever springs to mind.

GREAT LETS!

  1. I used to love Naruto and my writing style as it is now, lyrical and introspective, became apparent/started existing around the time I wrote my ‘big story’ for that fandom.
  2. I ship one ship at a time, always, not for ride-or-die-otp reasons, but because of obsessive reasons: I literally cannot think about more than one thing at a time, because my mind automatically redirects every bit of creative effort towards this thing that I am passionate about right this moment.
  3. Which is why, usually, when I leave a fandom, I do so for good. But that only happens once I find something else to love just as much, and not spontaneously.
  4. Spring is the hardest part of the year for me, always, which is disconcerting because I love spring, its so beautiful – I love flowers, I love the green, the renewal - but my brain doesn’t rly give a shit about any of that and just wants to shut me down.
  5. I had a very… classical upbringing, I think. Piano classes, art classes, classic musical left and right, poetry, mythology books etc.
  6. I had a goth phase! Yes, I did lmao. Or was it called Emo phase? Idk. But it involved a lt of black clothes (which I still wear), thousand bracelets, the necklaces and all the works, even the dark and unrelenting makeup sometimes. The hard rock music (lmao which I still love), the un-dealt with anger silently feeding my depression before I even knew what that was, was not so much fun however.
  7. I am an excellent liar – or so evidence would suggest - and I hate that about myself more than almost anything.
  8. I am empathetic and more times than not I can understand where people are coming from and why they are saying what they are saying, but that has a ‘dark side’ so to speak, which I hate. Meaning that I know where people are coming from and my brain usually informs me of all the ways this person can be manipulated and what could be said to hurt them the most because I know where it hurts. Which creeps me the fuck out and I never do (more or less…), but it enrages me seeing other people do exactly that without the slightest awareness.
  9. I could see every person that ever abused a child dead, and never feel bad about it. That is not a metaphor or exaggeration. I would smile upon the sight of their graves.
  10. I LOVE FOOD! I love cooking – it’s the one thing that truly manages to stave off my anxiety. But mostly I love food and I love eating.
  11. Im the nicest, most breathtakingly-rage filled ball of randomness and anxiety you will ever meet, probably XD

@franklyineedcoffee @forevercharmed320 @bisexualfelicity @bisexuallaurellance @blackcanarydinah @felicityollies @promeytheus @eilowyn1 @n4r4nch4 @isawyouasaperson @thoughtsandlife23 @fallingmeleth @reveureterrant

Holiday Challenge: 21

“Come on Derek! The snow is big and fluffy, they’d make such beautiful pictures.” You tell him grasping his arm as the two of you stand at the front window.
“I know baby girl but isn’t the snow bad for your camera?”
“I have a plastic bag that fits over it.” You tell him giving him your best puppy dog eyes.
“Alright baby. Alright.” He laughs pressing a kiss to your temple.
The two of you bundle up in your dark peacoats and he tugs on his maroon scarf. You take your light grey one with the winter green hat and then with your camera and tripod in tow you head out into the snow.
They’re those big, wet snowflakes that look fake and are just perfect for a Christmas card. You weave your fingers through his as the two of you stroll down the quiet street. On Christmas Eve you’d expect more people around.
“Here.” You tell Derek softly, stopping dead in your tracks. Setting down the tripod in the center of the sidewalk you walk him to where you want him in the frame. “Okay, just stay there.”
“Yes ma'am.” He says with a smile before kissing your hand. You can’t help but chuckle at his antics he can always make you smile, and god does he take a good picture. You line up the shot and press the button, the timer starts as you hurry over to him. Putting a hand on his chest and an arm around his waist he wraps an arm around you and just before the camera flashes he tilts your chin up and presses a kiss to your lips.
“Derek!” You laugh pulling away. You grin up at him then stand on your toes and kiss him again.
“Did I ruin the picture?”
“Probably not.” You tell him as you untangle yourself from his warm embrace. Of course the photo is perfect, you set the timer again and take another one where you’re both smiling at the camera then move on.
“Let’s make a snow man!” You tell Derek when you reach a nice empty patch of snow. “I’ll make me and you can make you they can be our Christmas card!” You tell him excitedly.
“Are you sure?”
“Yea! Come on babe, it’ll be funny.” You tell him as you start on the base of your snowman. Derek groans softly before he starts on his own snowman. When you finish the two snowmen you put your hat and scarf on the snowman then Derek adjusts your snowman’s stick arm and then you take the picture. “Oh my god Derek these are going to be so cute.”
“Set your timer beautiful. We can take a picture with them.” He suggests and you do. He stands between your two snowmen and again, before the picture is snapped he moves. Dropping to one knee he points at your snowman’s hand where a diamond ring is hanging. “Marry me?” You stare at him as the camera clicks and you nod. As Derek kisses you you hear your camera click a few more times.
“What?” You ask pulling away and are pleased to find his team all standing there grins on their faces, your best friend is snapping pictures and you practically scream with joy at seeing her. Derek slides the ring on your finger before he lets you go to meet the group of people that have magically assembled.
“Derek.” You say as you pack everything up, “Thank you. For the surprises today. I-I still can’t believe it. You and Frostina are such a gorgeous couple.” You tease. He did, after all, put the ring on the snowman first.
“Nah baby. You’re the one who brings the gorgeous into this couple.” He tells you wrapping an arm over your shoulder. You’re both quiet for a minute then he stops suddenly and kisses you again. “Merry Christmas baby.” He mumbles.
“Merry Christmas Derek.”

Pottery

Happy anniversary, Dean and Cas! Eight years is pottery/bronze, so…

“Okay, baby. You’re okay. Just a few more feet, that’s it…”

Dean groans against his mom’s side, gritting his teeth with every step. Covered head to tow in mud and stink and blood, his feet squelch against the bunker’s concrete floor. He is bruised. He is battered. And he is exhausted.

“Cas?” he manages as they enter his room. Mary carefully lays him out on the bed and takes off his boots. He cringes to think of what the sheets are gonna look like tomorrow morning.

“He’s fine,” Mary murmurs. “He’s wiping down the Impala.” Her own filthy hand hesitates before pressing hesitantly against his cheek; she isn’t as touchy-feely as he remembers. “Rest, Dean. I’ll bring some Advil and water for the morning.”

“Mmph.”

It’s past midnight and he’s still drifting in and out, unable to sleep too deeply because of the pain and the nightmares. Accidents are par for the course during a hunt; it’s a Murphy’s law kinda deal—but killing the only would-be survivor with the monster? That’s a rookie-fucking mistake. It’s unacceptable.

If only the Wendigo hadn’t been moving so fucking fast. If only the boy had stayed fucking still. If only Cas hadn’t been thrown off to the side and Mary hadn’t been trying to find another blow torch and Dean’s head hadn’t been spinning if only if only if only.

Dean’s door creaks open.

Keep reading

did you know that we actually live like 80 MILLISECONDS in the past? because that’s how long it takes our brains to process information. so, basically, our bodies are in the present while our brains are in the past. so sometimes you just gotta think — is time even r e a l? or do you think it’s just a construct that helps us understand the complexity of the UNIVERSE? pretty rad and fascinating stuff if you ask me.venus rambled into her phone with her telescope in tow. with her head full of plans to stargaze and wondering where to set up, she didn’t notice the telescope accidentally bumping someone, “oh my gods, i gotta go. i just BUMPED into someone!” she said speedily into the phone before rushing to help. are you alright? i’m so s o r r y; i totally should’ve been paying more attention.

my-malleable-muse  asked:

"Touch yourself for me." (Crowley's stuck at the Council & calls Frank for a little distraction?)

@my-malleable-muse

It was a good thing Frank had arranged for Joe to babysit Parker for the day. His son was growing fast and Joe had definitely become the favorite uncle, as the toddler always squealed and ran over every time he saw Joe. And Joe loved Parker, his face always lit up when he saw his nephew.

Frank had needed the day to catch up on some of his homework assignments. Going to college for one year online helped him stay home for Parker most of the time, but when it came to really cracking down on certain assignments, he needed his mind free, and he needed to know his son would be safe with someone he trusted, either within the pack or with his mother and brother.

After Joe had left with Parker in tow to head to the park so the two year old could burn some energy, Frank got to work, only to be interrupted halfway through an essay with a call from Crowley, who did not waste time getting down to business, that wonderful voice quiet and husky with the request.

“Perv,” Frank teased, setting his laptop aside and sliding his hand towards his jeans. “What would the Council say?”

When I can’t stop thinking about AU’s I’ll never write or do anything with… I gotta doodle them at least. Belle manages to get her strange reclusive employer to leave the confines of his house and sit with her in the garden-even if he’s still being as mysterious always dressing from head to toe. But company is company, and Mr. Gold doesn’t seem to mind her reading out loud to the two of them.

How about a Grease style wolfstar and marauders AU?

• Sirius took a spontaneous trip to the
beach during the holidays. It was the
first time that he has been away from
James in years and the separation
anxiety was REAL.
• When Peter and James meet Sirius in
the Gryffindor common room they
cannot wait to hear the gossip.
• And Sirius is literally bouncing up and
down in the chair with excitement
because he met the most amazing
boy.
• He was sweet and kind and oddly
beautiful. Even though his tanned
skin was covered in scars, Sirius
found himself horrendously attracted
to him.
• However, when Sirius realises he is
really not acting cool, he slumps
down into the chair. Should anyone
see him behaving like this and the
reputation of the marauders would be
ruined. Being a marauder is far more
stress than it is actually worth.
• The common room door opens and
Lily Potter walks in, a tall skinny boy
in tow.
• James’ head pops up, he smooths out
his robes and positions himself
carefully in the chair. He could not let
Lily see him and the guys showing
any sort of emotion. That would be
totally uncool.
• “Hey, Potter” she says a sassy
quirk in her eyebrow. To which James
would respond with a simple “Evans.”
• “Hey, Sirius,” she winks. “I got a
surprise for ya.”
• From behind her moves the skinny
boy and Sirius feels his eyes widen.
No way it couldn’t be.
• Remus fucking Lupin!?
• Before he can even stop himself he
launches out of the chair and meets
Remus Lupin, who is striding toward
him, in the middle of the common
room.
• Lily moves off to gossip with Alice
Longbottom and Mary McDonald but
not without teasing a wink at James,
of course.
• “Sirius! I can’t believe it, I thought you
said you want to some special
boarding school. I thought you had a
scholarship for the highest wizarding
school in the world?”
• This earns a snicker from Peter.
• “I thought you went to school at the
Durmstrang Institute?”
• “No, my family moved into the
country side in the East of England
and, well, so now I go here!”
• After hours of conversation, James
and Peter pull Sirius away from
Remus but make sure the new boy is
settled nicely into the their new room.
• Now matter how hard Sirius tries to
act cool, his smile always creeps
through his carefully placed facade.
• Plus, no matter how hard he tries,
James would totally be able to see
through his ‘tough man’ act.
• Only when James and Sirius leave
Peter to make sure Remus is settling
in alright and creep up to the
astronomy tower to sneak a smoke
does Sirius let rip.
• The tough demeanour comes off and
James realises that Sirius will stick
with this boy. Even if he hasn’t stuck
with clubs or sports or school work or
even with his own family. Sirius would
be willing to change everything about
himself for this boy. He loved him.

When Jon is not overseeing his duties as Lord regent of Winterfell, chasing after Rickon or penning late replies to Daenarys in Kings Landing, he is watching Sansa, windswept and lovely as she ventures out across the frozen expanse of Winterfell.

Often times Arya is in tow, heads bent together in secrecy.

He observes the fading red welt on her cheek.

A tree branch seems plausible, but what they’re doing out there, hips brushing, whispering low and surreptitious, he does not know.

Still, he’d rather Sansa passing her time away with Arya than with that wildling stable boy, Daron.

He doesn’t want to have to contend with those feelings again, the ones that gripped him when he saw them dancing at Rickon’s birthday feast.

Feelings of knuckle tensing anger, hot heady confusion, jealousy, bubbling up from the surface.

A jealousy fiercer than any he had known he could even harbour.

When he was young and talk of Robb inheriting Winterfell was rife he would feel a somber sort of envy, pricked with sorrow, at being bastard born and base and just less.

Now it is a jealousy far more troubling, for he shouldn’t be feeling this way.

Not about Sansa.

excerpt from Broken and Breaking, part 6, coming soon!!!

Closed RP - lovesfaith and sold-my-soul-for-revenge
lovesfaith

Ciel sat at his desk with a cup of tea in one hand and the other curving letters into the paper, they were letters of appraisal for the managers of his factories - a routine letter that was sent ever quarter-term along with capital. It was so boring, and usually by now Ciel would have it done - but his fiancée was reaching the age at which they could be married by, and so the arrangements had to be discussed. It was why Scarlette would be arriving soon, her maid Sarah in tow. Ciel lifted his head from his task when there was a knock on the door. “Enter.”