#duck tries to be normal so bad and fails

[seefasters]

average travis player character: some sort of guy with backstory happenings of various levels of tragedy

average clint player character: old man with a mischievous streak (always on the verge of death)

average griffin player character: lil guy with impostor syndrome and trying SO hard

average justin player character: the weirdest person anyone has ever heard of, ever

[approximately12lbs-of-ducks]

COULD YOU TELL ME ABOUT YOUR EEAU?!!! I AM SO VERY CURIOUS!!!

I ABSOLUTELY CAN AHHHHHHH I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT IT ALWAYS. Premise is that after Dream blows up Logsteadshire, instead of leaving Tommy alone, he suggests to Tommy that they start over somewhere new. He leads Tommy to an even more remote location that this time no one knows about (not that Tommy’s aware of it) and after asking Tommy if it would be less painful if no one was allowed to visit him rather than having them constantly reject him by not showing up, and Tommy agreeing, he like. Bans people from visiting Tommy. This is not, however, what he tells the rest of the SMP - he actually doesn’t say anything for a bit because he’s busy destroying other teenagers lives (Doomsday also holy fuck i am so normal about eeau!tubbo or honestly just c!tubbo in general) but then after Doomsday of course Tubbo goes and discovers the annihilated Logsteadshire and like runs back and Dream insinuates that Tommy killed himself which definietly doesn’t devestate or at least shake up many people. But then people start talking and realize that like. Dream’s been manipulating and lying to them all this whole time and pitting them against each other. Philza in particular is like ‘why did we leave Tommy with the man who constantly expressed his dislike for him/set out to ruin his life’ and everyone was like . fair point. Queue manhunt for Dream where Dream loses his two lives and all of his allies and in a cruel twist of fate ends up with only Tommy for company!! Because stockholm syndrome babey :)))))) Plans backfired immensely for this man. (I did not forget about Punz well I did but then I figured out a way for him not to be there which is a WHOLE OTHER STORY basically Dream tried to manipulate purpled who went Nuh Uh and tattled to punz so punz fucked off and spat in dreams face on the way out)

QUEUE A YEAR LATER Ghostbur stumbles across Tommy in his secret exile spot (Henburgh) as Ghostbur has been searchign for Tommy’s ghost ever since he learned that he died. Eventually Ghostbur forgot he wsa looking for Tommy’s ghost and was just fixated on that he was looking for Tommy. Tommy however is scared of what Dream might do to Ghostbur/to him if he sees Ghostbur or finds out he was here, since he’s technically not allowed any visitors, so he sends Ghostbur away on an impossible quest. Ghostbur leaves him a small bit of blue that he then hides bc he can’t bring himself to throw it away, but unforunately nothing escapes Dream’s grasp for long and he notices :))))) It does not end well for Tommy, time for Logsteadshire pt 2. DURING THE TWO MONTHS THAT PASSED SINCE GHOSTBURS VISIT Wilbur is revived by Philza and Technoblade bc hella guilt and also Kristin hinted to Phil that Wilbur could come back and so Phil took the opprotunity. Wilbur however! Does not remember his time as ghostbur aside from very vague feelings and a couple blurry memories! But he feels VERY STRONGLY that there’s something important to the southeast of Techno’s cabin, and eventually that feeling grows so strong that he starts getting really anxious and upset about the fact he can’t go, so Techno offers to check it out fully expecting to find nothing. Only to stumble across Dream being HORRIFIC to Tommy during Logsteadshire Pt 2 and prompty going Oh Fuck No and bringing Tommy back to recover at the cabin.

Tommy does NOT appreciate this, and immediately demands to be taken back to Henburgh. Techno does not oblige. Tommy makes his displeasure clear but also mans now Traumatized as all hell so he also does jack shit to actually oppose the rest of the SBI. QUEUE FAMILY BONDING TIME AND SLOW HEALING. IT TAKES A LOT OF TIME AND EFFORT AND THERES OF COURSE MORE SHIT BUT I DONT KNWO IF I WANNA SPOIL IT CAUSE I AM WRITING THE FIC. But the main fic ends with Tommy having not fully completed his healing but having made progress in mending his relationships w his family and friends, specifically SBI and beeduo, and like starting to realize and come to terms that what he went through was wrong but it wasn’t his fault, and decide that he wants to fight to be better again. I’m definitely so normal about all of his healing arcs and the way he slowly starts to recover from his trauma and find himself again and discover that life is worth living and that love doesn’t have to hurt I’m really fucking normal. I could talk about this for hours I in fact have talked about it for hours with my sibling (shoutout to them for listening) there are so many details to all of this i thikn about it constantly I am packing so much symbolism into this baby it will be my magnum opus if i can ever fucking finish it

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

fool for you

fratboy!Johnny x f!reader

summary: Johnny has decided that enough is enough! He can’t stop thinking about you and he needs to do something about it! Well… it’s so much easier said than done

word count: 4.4k

warnings: profanity

a/n: fic is set in our new and beloved, fratboy!Johnny universe and will chronologically follow after this post! and oh my gosh yes! stop pestering me! I did name this after linger by the cranberries!

divider creds to roseraris <3

taglist! @severeanxietyissues @neozon3nha @bluedbliss @lovesuhng @wishpid @myfavoritedelusion @onlyrosyjohnny @soonnypeach @noname9392 @sunghoonsgfreal @mmjhh1998 @thedaisyarchive @ohwowzersthatscool @greenyweirdo @127jfam

Johnny wasn’t sure that he’d ever felt this restless in his whole life. How is it that his life had gone from normal, boring, standard, to a complete mess simply because he’d talked to you? You, the girl he hadn’t so much as spoken more than two minutes with him in the years that he first saw you and now you lived in his head! He couldn’t stop thinking about you, he constantly hoped he’d see you again on campus, he wished you’d come to the house again. 

He didn’t think he’d ever been this infatuated before. He felt like a kid with a crush all over again. He wasn’t like any of the stereotypical frat guys who jumped from girl to girl. No, Johnny was more of a boyfriend kid of guy and he hadn’t had a relationship since he and his high school girlfriend ended things before going to opposite end of the country for college. Was it so bad that he wanted a timeless love like his parents? Was it so bad that he wanted to find his other half? The person who would know him better than anyone else and love him for who he was.

Less than an hour spent together and you had completely taken over his thoughts. When would he see you again? What was your favorite color? What was your favorite class? Did you like him as much as he liked you? He sure hoped you did.

He laid in bed, staring at his ceiling while he tried and failed to fall asleep. Why was his brain even so focused on memories of you in the class you shared during his second semester? He could remember vivid images of you, or more, the back of your head. His mind thought back to one specific moment where the class had been tasked with some kind of whole class, lazy activity. The professor, who looked worse for wear, had kicked his feet up on his desk, displayed the instructions on the projector screen and knocked out for the entirety of the class. 

Johnny remembered walking around the auditorium, filling out his worksheet with only one space left to fill out. Nobody that he’d spoken to knew the answer, since none of them had read the last chapter like they were supposed to. He knew he should have done his homework, he probably could have been out of class already, but he’d gotten caught up in frat stuff. Johnny perked his head up, making his way down the stairs and toward the row that was just two rows away from his own row, right to where you were sitting alone and diligently filling out the worksheet with your head ducked down. 

Slowly, Johnny lowered himself into the seat beside you so as to not startle you, “hey.”

Still, you jumped in your seat, having completely missed how his tall frame slipped beside you so seamlessly and quietly. He watches as your hand spreads over your chest in your shock. Your cheeks bloom with warmth and he smiles softly, you’re really pretty. Seeing you up close and not in passing, not from the back, he feels a part of him fall hard for you. 

Your voice is prettier than any song he’s ever heard, even as you laugh shyly, “you scared me.”

He chokes on his words, is that his heart pounding in his ears or is someone banging on the door? Are everyone’s eyes as gorgeous as yours? He clears his throat, blinking a few times to refocus himself, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just uh, I need some help answering the last question on the worksheet. I asked a bunch of people and no one knows the answer. Can you help me?”

“Oh, yeah! That question was hidden somewhere in the last few pages of the chapter, but I actually happened to make a note of it…” you tell Johnny as you flip through your notebook to find the page. 

He can only watch and admire your dedication to passing this class, even if it is a general requirements class. You slide your notebook over to him and he admires your neat scrawl and organized notes. “Here it is,” you tell him softly as you point out the line with the information he needs. 

Johnny copies down the information and smiles at you gratefully, “thank you so much. I’m usually so on top of my assignments, but I guess I got carried away with all the frat stuff I have going on.”

You cock your head to the side with a soft furrow in your brows, “I’m not judging you at all. It’s okay to be busy with things. The homework wasn’t even homework anyway so it’s really no bother at all.”

His body is reacting in that weird way again, but worse than usual. Probably because he’s doing more than just looking at you this time. He’s actually talking to you! A real conversation! His heart is thumping hard and fast in his chest as he forces his brain to remember to breathe! He chuckles softly, “well, I appreciate the help anyway.”

You nod as you pack up your things and stand from your seat with your backpack over our shoulder. “It’s no problem. Have a good one,” you tell him before you walk away from him to leave the lecture hall. 

The memory brings a smile onto Johnny’s face as he drifts off to sleep with thoughts of you on his mind. 

The next time he sees you, it’s not even planned. He’s just come back from a run when he walks past Mark on his way out of the door. Johnny looks at Mark in confusion, “what’s up? I thought you didn’t have class on Thursdays.”

Mark sighs, “I don’t but you guys are up my ass about going to my tutoring sessions so…”

Johnny lets out a laugh, “I think you mean that we’re up your ass about succeeding. Nu Chi doesn't keep idiots around.”

“That’s debatable,” Mark replies with a laugh, “I’m off to the library so I won’t be late. I’ve kept my tutor waiting for too many sessions already. See you later, bro.”

The door shuts and Johnny stands in the entryway for less than a second before he’s sprinting up the stairs, taking them three at a time. He pushes someone out of his way with a shout of “sorry!” He rushes into the bathroom and forces himself into an ice cold shower to wash the sweat and stink off his body. 

He knows he’s dripping water all down the hall as he runs to his room to get dressed. He knows he’s yelled at his brothers for this before, but he has a very limited amount of time to meet you at the library! You wouldn’t be tutoring Mark forever!

He finds one of his nicer t-shirts hanging in the closet, a clean pair of jeans and tucks his wet hair under a backwards cap before slipping on his shoes and making his way out of the house. He’s hustling across campus trying not to sweat while practicing what he’s going to say to you. He feels like a total idiot right now. He’s never been the kind of person to be nervous about meeting anyone. He’s always confident and charismatic, even though you’re his social opposite, he finds that he’s not himself. It’s kind of a fun feeling to experience again. 

He slows his stroll as he walks through the library, trying to look casual as he peeks into every study room, examines every table on the first floor, on the second floor, and finally, the third floor. He peeks his head to take a look in what was, of course, the last study room on this floor. He finds you and Mark looking at your laptop and taking notes. 

Johnny takes a deep breath and straightens out his clothes before freezing. Shit, what was his excuse for being here even going to be? ‘Hey there, I was just casually prowling the third floor of the library, mind if I join?’ No way! He pulls a random notebook from his backpack before knocking on the glass door with a friendly smile. He pushes the door open, “hey, sorry to interrupt. Mark, you left your notebook at the house, I wasn’t sure if you needed it.”

You look over at Mark with a confused look on your face and Mark looks at Johnny with a matching look of confusion, “I have my notebooks. That’s not mine.”

“Oh, well…” Johnny gulps nervously with sweaty palms, “I just wanted to be safe. I want you to do your best Markie.”

Mark’s face twists into a look of disgust, “since when have you ever called me Marki-”

Johnny coughs, cutting Mark off, “well, since I’m here. You guy’s don't mind if I just stay, do you? I’ll be quiet and I’ve got some studying to do of my own anyway.”

“That’s fine,” you nod slowly, returning to Mark.

Johnny spends about an hour sitting on the opposite end of the table from you, pretending to study. Really, his mind is busy working out the conversation he wants to have with you when your session with Mark is done. 

“So I guess, when in doubt, just add as many details about this time period as you can. I think your professor is likely to focus on the areas we covered today for the essay question, but don’t hold me to it. Do you have any questions before we wrap up?” Johnny hears you ask Mark.

Mark laughs as he packs his things up, “yo, I’m actually feeling really good about this test! Thank you, dude.”

Your laugh makes Johnny’s heart skip a beat as you help Mark gather his things and smile up at him, “It’s my job Mark, it’s really no problem. Good luck on your test and let me know how it goes.”

Mark leaves the study room, but not without a look of pure and utter suspicion thrown in Johnny’s direction before he leaves the two of you alone in the study room. Johnny clears his throat, “hey, so are you- you doing anything after-”

Someone clears their throat and Johnny turns to find a girl waiting in the doorway. Johnny’s eyes flit over to you to find that you’re already looking at him with wide eyes, “I’m sorry Johnny, I have another tutoring session right now.”

Johnny’s mouth snaps shut and he nods awkwardly, grabbing his backpack and making his way past the girl quickly. In an hour he’s going to feel like a major idiot for trying and failing to ask you out. He should have just spit it out! ‘Hey! Please go out with me! Please! I will beg!’ But he didn’t and somehow he didn’t feel like a loser quite yet… Mostly because, well, this was going to make him sound like a total dweeb, but you said his name! Was it possible to have two new favorite sounds upon the first time hearing them? Your laugh and his name on your lips.

If he’d have looked over his shoulder while he was leaving the room, he’d have seen you staring at his back as he left. He’d have seen how your eyes were wide and tracked his form until he was completely out of sight. Then consequently seen your next student bumping your arm and teasing you while you hid your face in your hands.

He walks back to the frat house with an extra pep in his step, though as soon as he opens the door, there’s Mark with a smug look on his face, “dude, you are so fucking lame. Really? ‘You forgot your notebook Markie.’” Mark’s face twists into an unimpressed smirk while he holds up the same notebook that Johnny had used as an excuse. A notebook that clearly read ‘JOHNNY’ in Yuta’s signature tag style. Johnny swallows as his cheeks get hot, “you didn’t show her that did you?”

Mark chuckles, “nah, you were smart enough to only show the back of the notebook. She’s not hard to talk to, you know?”

Johnny drags a hand down his face, “she is to me. Only God knows why.”

“You got it bad, bro. Pull yourself together,” Mark laughs brightly as he shakes Johnny by the shoulders.

Very rarely does Johnny like to admit that Mark is correct, but Mark is right this time. He does have it bad, so incredibly horrendously bad for you. He’s no longer keeping an eye out for you, no, he’s “casually” walking across campus to the humanities and social science buildings because that’s where your classes are more likely to be held. 

It’s a Monday when he sees you again. A whole two and a half weeks since he last tried to ask you out. His classes have already finished for the day, but he finds himself making the familiar walk across campus toward the humanities building. The sky is warm and the sun feels nice on his skin as he strolls and swipes through his phone. In the blink of an eye his phone is falling to the floor as his body collides with another. 

“Oh shoot, I am so sorry,” he hears the other person say. Not just any other person, you. He gulps, falling to his knees beside you as you gather all your papers and books back into a neat pile. He can hear your nervous rambling, “I’m really sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going. I’m just running late on my way to the library and— Johnny? What are you doing on this side of campus?”

Johnny isn’t even thinking of a response because while he was listening to you speak, he wasn't listening to what you were really saying. His brain was too busy memorizing the timbre and tone of your voice to focus on any words. It takes his brain a whole minute to process your question all while he stares at you blankly. He clears his throat, right, what was he doing over here, “I… the… I like that bathrooms over here…” What the hell, John?! The bathrooms?!

You giggle softly, “the bathrooms? Surely, the engineering building would have the nicest bathrooms since that building is the newest.”

Oh. You actually bought that flimsy excuse. He coughs softly, “are you… are you doing anything right now?” Wait a second, did your fingers just brush against his? Why was a simple brush of your fingers against making his heart race? What the heck was up with him?

“Yeah, actually, I’m on my way to another tutoring session,” you answer as you pile all your things into your arms before standing. 

Johnny stands up slowly, looking down at you as his eyes trace over every small detail on your face, every curve and every edge. His eyes drag over the curve of your lips, the lashes that line your eyes, and the way your cheeks round as you smile up at him. He blinks slowly, once, twice… what was it about you that made him act like such a fool? Why didn’t his brain work how it was supposed to around you? “Right,” he shakes his head with a smile, “of course. I’m sorry for making you later.”

Your brows furrow just slightly before you smile up at him in such a sweet way that he might just feel his pupils turning into hearts. Your hand comes up to squeeze his forearm. Great, now he’s a puddle from a simple squeeze of your hand. “You get this really faraway look in your eye when you look at me. We’ll have to talk about that next time we see each other,” you tell him in the sweetest voice he’s ever heard before hustling away like you always do. 

He doesn’t even care if you see him if you choose to turn away, but he hunches over, one hand gripping his t-shirt as he tries to catch his breath. Fuck, this was the best feeling in the world, being around you, looking at you, talking to you. And was it just his imagination or did your hand actually linger when you squeezed his arm? 

His train of thought is interrupted when someone coughs, “dude, are you having an asthma attack or something?”

“Something better,” Johnny breathes out.

The person shakes their head, “dude, you’re strange.”

Johnny has been practicing asking people out for a week now. Not only in the mirror, when he showers, before bed, to his pillow, his teammates, and also to every frat brother in the house. It helps him to develop a more well-rounded proposal since he gets so many types of feedback. When Mark and Haechan tell him it’s perfect, he goes to Taeyong to really get it the best it can be. What do those losers know anyway?

He’s thinking about you every second of the day and for some reason, manifesting your presence hasn’t worked like it has these last few times. He still walks around your class building, he keeps an eye out for Mark heading out for tutoring, and even walks around the library for a couple hours a few days. Nothing. Where could you have disappeared to? 

He knows that you’re probably busy with his own classes and tests, but.. he just misses you. It’s not even like the two of you have had any real conversations of substance, but the way you make him feel? It’s addicting. Not in a crazy way, but in a way that makes his heart beat a whole lot faster than running a few laps around the basketball court and feels a hell of a lot better. This must be the kind of feeling he remembers his dad explaining to him when he was a kid. 

Back when Johnny was a tween he’d gone to school with a bouquet of flowers to confess his crush on a girl from his science class. She had turned him down, kept the flowers, and shamelessly asked if his friend was looking for a girlfriend. Johnny had faked a stomach ache, not letting a single tear fall until he was at home and in his dad’s arms. 

“The right person for you won’t make you feel like this, Son,” his dad says soothingly as he rubs a calming hand up and down Johnny’s back, “Look, when I met your mom I felt like I was going crazy. Every time I saw her my heart would beat like crazy, I thought about her all the time, and every time she so much as looked at me I felt like I was on top of the world. When you find the right person you’ll feel all these things and more and they’ll feel the same way. This is just one of life’s lessons. I know it hurts now, but when the real thing comes along, it will feel so much better.”

Johnny’s been thinking about this conversation a lot. He wonders if, once again, he’s throwing himself into the fire to be burned. He wonders if this will just be another learning lesson on the journey to finding The One, and he starts to get really insecure. This is a feeling that Johnny rarely ever experiences, but when he really thinks about it… have you even shown him any romantic interest or just basic kindness? Did your touch linger? Did you stare a little too long? Did you even actually blush the first time you both made conversation? Whatever. He pushes the thought out of his head and instead forces himself to focus on his upcoming basketball game. He can’t distract himself with these thoughts when he needs to be in his basketball mindset. There’s no room in his head to be insecure or to overthink things. He’s not usually the kind of person to think this anxiously so he takes a deep breath and moves on.

There’s just a couple minutes left of the game, Johnny’s standing at the free throw line, exhaling to calm his nerves while he spins the ball in his hands. The feel of the textured rubber, the smell of the gym, the sight of his teammates and competitors has a familiar excitement bubbling in his stomach. His eyes flicker to the crowd on the left, then the right, and back to the hoop-- but wait, did he see that right? Yeah his frat brothers are there, he sees some people from his classes, but who is that sitting next to Mark? He blinks hard, squinting as he sees Mark pointing at the court and saying something to… you! 

You’re at his game, you’re watching him play, you’re here! It’s a complete shock to see you here. This is the last place he’d expect to see you, but Johnny smiles to himself and feels a whole new sense of confidence when he hears the referee blow his whistle. Johnny sinks not one, not two, but all three free throws with just a few seconds of the game to go. He’s playing better than he’s ever played and he’s already one of the best players on the team. Is it a little embarrassing to admit that it’s because you’re watching? Yeah, but he’s not going to admit it. 

The game ends with a victory by a small margin, but it’s a win nonetheless. His teammates immediately go to their water bottles, coach or girlfriends, but Johnny’s heading over to you. He’s making his way through the crowds accepting congratulations and claps on the back with a grateful smile before he’s walking right up the bleachers and right over to you. His frat brothers have mischievous smiles on their faces and thankfully have the decency to disperse not too far away while Johnny stops just a foot away from you. 

“You-you’re here!” Johnny smiles brightly.

You tuck your hair behind your ear, smiling as you drop your gaze to your feet, “yeah, I figured it was time to branch out of my comfort zone.”

“Well, did you have a good time? You caught me on a good day, heard coach say it was the best I’ve ever played,” Johnny tells you earnestly. 

You look up and Johnny tries to keep his breathing normal at the smile on your face. You’re just so pretty up close. He finds himself distractedly counting every beauty mark on your face and each variation of color in your pupils. You’re breathtaking. He blinks hard, forcing himself to listen to your melodic voice, “I have I admit, I don’t know a whole lot about basketball so Mark had to explain a lot of it to me. He said you did a good job and I know enough to know that you scored most of the points… so congrats!”

He licks his lips, feeling his heartbeat pounding right in the base of his neck. What better moment will there be than now? “Hey, do you want to go out with me? Like on a date… please,” Johnny manages to breathe out. 

Your eyes widen, jaw falling open the slightest bit, “you like me back?”

Johnny chokes, “you like me?!”

“I thought I was being obvious,” you murmur shyly, once again dropping your gaze to look at your feet. 

Johnny laughs a breathy laugh. It’s not malicious or teasing but it’s a laugh of relief. He reaches out and cups your cheeks, guiding your face up to meet his gaze. “I have been pining over you since the first time I talked to you. I feel like I’ve been going crazy every day and acting like a total fool— an idiot! All my stupidity just to find out that you’ve liked me back.”

“Honestly,” you tell him quietly, “I had a feeling you liked me.”

“How?!” Johnny asks, his thumb caressing the high point of your cheek.

You laugh softly and Johnny feels his heart skip a beat, “the humanities building doesn’t have bathrooms, John.”

He feels his face blush bright red as he staggers back and plants himself in a seat. He drags his hands through his hair and down his face with an embarrassed groan, “and you didn’t tell me? I really am an idiot!”

You giggle as you sit beside him, rubbing his upper arm which really doesn't help the blush on his cheeks but is something that he very quickly learns he really likes. You sigh, bumping his shoulder with your own playfully, “if it helps, I feel like an idiot too because my flirting wasn’t enough either. Clearly. We were both somewhat clueless.”

“What flirting?” Johnny asks with his brows furrowed softly.

“I looked at you a lot, I touched your arm that one time— twice actually, I came to your basketball game…” you list off as if these are the most obvious acts to have ever been done.

“Oh, Honey,” Johnny chuckles with a shake of his head, “luckily, with me you’ll get plenty of opportunities to work on that flirting of yours.”

You hide your face behind your hands as you whine embarrassingly. He catches your wrist gently and pulls your hand away just far enough to press a kiss to your cheek, “so, was that a yes? You’ll go on a date with me?”

Your voice is quiet but it’s loud enough to have Johnny standing from his seat and cheering when you murmur, “yes I want to go on date with you.”

“Yes!” You hear the guys around you cheer. You glance behind Johnny and find Mark fist pumping. You laugh quietly and lean into Johnny so your head rests on his shoulder and your arm is pressed up against his.

“Don’t take this the wrong way at all,” Johnny tells you, “but I am not worthy to have you pressed up against me right now. I am dripping with sweat, I smell, and I don’t even look good right now.”

“I’d argue that you actually look very good right now,” you reply before clapping a hand over your mouth in embarrassment.

Johnny’s head snaps in your direction with his eyes widened in shock, “now that’s flirting! Yes!”

a/n: feedback is appreciated and I'm adding the first date fic to my to do list!

[halfadiamond]

Some AU’s I thought of

Poly TF141 x Singer Reader

Premise: (you know those singers that would follow the soldiers around during WW2 and lift up their spirits) yeah that’s basically it. You’re their girl worth fighting for. Think of like Vera Lynn and how she was known as the Forces Sweetheart

Preschool Teacher Reader x Soap

Credit to: @luvbabydoll (she had a similar scenario (but with Price instead) but wanted to give credit on the idea!) Check it out if you haven’t, she’s a great writer!

Premise: (I imagine Soap to have a big family, sorry he just doesn’t give only child vibes to me!). Scenario where Soap (who’s on military leave) goes to see his nephew’s recital and he gets to meet you, his nephew’s teacher. You think it’s just small talk as you talk about Soap’s nephew, but this man is now down bad for you. Before you know it, Soap is constantly coming to visit you in the school (he calls it “checking on my nephew”) but then why is he constantly following you around like baby ducking who’s just imprinted on you?

Best Friend Brother or Brother’s Best Friend Gaz x Reader

Premise: Gaz and you have a small age gap (like maybe less than 4 years, he’s older!) and you’ve always crushed on him. Maybe one day, you guys are alone (your house or his!) and you’re complaining about your failed one night stand (it’s hard to imagine other men when you want him so bad!) and Gaz offers to help you out. Cue to you getting fucked doggy style on his (or yours) bed!

Traditional Price x Reader

Premise: Maybe for this one, you’re a bit naive (I think there’s a better word for it) but Price likes that! He’s molded you to his perfect woman, you wear the clothes he deems acceptable, cook and clean for him, do exactly what he says, and you never talk back to him. He calls it the greater good and that you don’t need to worry about “Big Boy Stuff” he’ll handle everything, just put the pie in the oven. You’re just missing the last piece, a swollen belly.

Dog Walker Reader x Ghost (I think this AU was already done?? Not sure I tried looking but I can’t find nothing. But if it was already done please lmk so I can give credit!!)

Premise: Ghost who breaks his foot during an operation now needs to hire someone to walk Riley. At first he was going to force Soap or Gaz to do it, but Price wouldn’t have it and hired someone to walk Riley. For awhile, Price is normally the one talking to you and scheduling the walks as he helps Ghost around. But for today Price is out on some errands so Ghost is the one who has to do it. And he falls in love at first sight. Cue him using his crutches (that he swore he wouldn’t touch) as he tries to follow you as you walk his dog. Physical therapy, he calls it as you once again try to make him go home and rest.

Or

Body Guard Ghost x Bratty Reader where Ghost guards you but you’re so bratty and won’t listen to him so he has to find a way to get you to listen and he already has an idea of what to do

[sinofwriting]

Faking It - Max Verstappen

Words: 850 Summary: Max finds out his girlfriend faked an orgasm. Note(s): NSFW, Talks of Sex, Mention of Semi-Public Sex. Part of a kind series where drivers find out reader faked an orgasm.

Other Driver's Versions

Max pauses just before the entryway to the living room. “Have you ever y’know?” His brows furrow at the vague question from his girlfriend’s best friend.

“Have I ever what?”

“Faked it. Have you ever faked an orgasm?”

She scoffs, “Before Max, yes.”

His cheeks turn a bit pink at the conversation he was overhearing, but he also stands a bit taller.

He knew that their sex life was good, that she was getting orgasms, they had of course talked about it, but it was different hearing her talk to someone else about it with no idea he was there.

His brows furrowed in confusion when she speaks again, “well, I don’t really know if it counts as faking it.”

“What?”

“I mean, there’s been a few times when we’ve had sex where I didn’t orgasm.”

His mind starts screaming at him, because what? He always made sure she came, usually before he did.

“Not because it wasn’t good or because I didn’t want to. I just couldn’t.” He can practically see the shrug she gives. “The sex was still good though.”

“Y/N!” Her friend screeches and it breaks up a little through the phone.

The words replay in his head as he goes back to their bedroom, lying down on the bed. He tries to think of when she would have faked it but nothing comes to mind. He’s so wrapped up in his head he doesn’t hear her call his name or get onto the bed until she’s laying down on top of him, his arms instinctively wrapping themselves around her.

“What you thinking about?” She asks, pressing kisses to his jaw.

It normally relaxes him, the feeling of her lips pressed against his skin but not quite where he wants them, a lovely prelude to before she kisses him, but he can’t get past what he heard and he’s never been practically shy.

“When did you fake it? Having an orgasm with me?”

Her fingers pause where they had begun to lift his shirt to slide under. “Max, it’s not a big deal.”

His frown deepens and he’s pushing her upwards so they can look at each other. “Yes, it is. I always thought that I made you orgasm, usually first. And now I’ve found that isn’t true.”

She shakes her head. “You do! I promise you do.”

He doesn’t say anything and she sighs.

“It’s only happened twice.”

He doesn’t know if he’s relieved that it only happened twice or pissed that he failed twice. It should have never happened but twice was far too much.

“The first time was after the FIA gala last year.”

His eyebrows furrow, “But you talk about that night a lot.”

“It was a good night. I felt good, amazing. I loved everything we did, I just wasn’t able to orgasm. I didn’t feel unsatisfied or anything. Especially not with my wake-up call.”

He smirks at the reminder of the next morning. He had woken up just as the sun was rising and had ducked under the covers and ate her out until she was begging for him to stop. His jaw and tongue had ached for hours after, but it was worth it for the taste of her stayed just as long.

“The second time was in China. I just couldn’t stop thinking about what if someone walked in.”

“So, I didn’t fuck you good enough.”

She slaps his chest lightly, sending him a disbelieving look. “I was limping a little after. And you're lucky I was wearing those heels and everyone believed me when I said I twisted my ankle.”

“I’m sorry.” Max apologizes again, picking up her hand and kissing it. He still felt a little bad that their first foray into semi-public sex had been so rough. “Why didn’t you tell me though? That I didn’t make you come?”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal to me.” She tells him. “I love having sex with you, it always feels good regardless of me orgasming or not. And in those two instances I was just happy to be that close to you.”

He stares at her, looking deep into her eyes. He still feels like he’s failed but the way she’s looking at him, all gentle wide eyes filled with truth. “I’ll let it go.”

She snorts and he covers her mouth with his hand.

“But only if you tell me next time. Just so I can immediately make it up to you.” He says, removing his hand as he says the last word.

“Okay, I’ll tell you next time.”

“Thank you.” He murmurs, pressing their lips together.

She hums into the kiss, her one hand slipping out of his and returning to the hem of shirt, drawing it up so she can slip her hands underneath and his stomach flexes at the feeling of her fingertips and he’s rolling them over. Easily putting himself in between her legs.

“Feel like making a mess for me?”

She lets out a happy little sigh, teeth lightly sinking into her bottom lip as she nods. “Please?”

“Of course.”

[lxxahazel]

Hiii! Can I please get a Lucifer x fem!Reader where the reader finds him in his workshop during one of his really bad depressive episodes? But instead of trying to talk, she just quietly sits with him and starts making her own little army of clay ducks to keep his company. :3 TvT if you have time... Heh.. 🥺🥺🥺

Ohhhhhh, sure! I already finished the chapter 8 of His Smile Her Sin. (I'm bored hehe)

So, here you go anon! (I'm sorry if it's not good, it's my first time taking asks 🥲)

╰┈➤ A Quiet Comfort in the Workshop

[Lucifer x Reader]

Y/n wasn't like the other denizens of Hell, nor like the grand, often intimidating figures that usually orbited the King of Hell. She wasn't an Overlord seeking power, a sinner begging for redemption, or a subordinate seeking orders. Instead, her presence in Lucifer's life was a gentle, steady hum, much like the quiet whirring of his favorite automatons. Their relationship had blossomed from an unexpected shared solitude. Y/n, an older soul who had arrived in Hell centuries ago, carried a quiet understanding, a deep well of empathy that she offered without judgment. She had encountered Lucifer during a particularly tumultuous period for him, not long after his bitter falling out with Heaven and the burden of his new domain had truly settled upon his shoulders.

While others tried to dazzle him, advise him, or simply avoid his volatile moods, Y/n had simply been there. She'd listen when he wanted to rant about Heaven's hypocrisy or about Charlie's latest failed project. She'd quietly work on her own small crafts in his presence, never demanding his attention, yet always ready to offer a comforting silence or a genuine laugh when he sought it. She often found him in his workshop, his true sanctuary, where he poured his immense creative energy into intricate contraptions, mostly ducks, always ducks. Their bond wasn't built on grand gestures or passionate declarations, but on mutual respect, a shared appreciation for the quieter moments, and Y/n's uncanny ability to see beyond the King of Hell, to the tired, lonely angel underneath. She saw his brilliance, his deep-seated love for his daughter, and his profound, often hidden, melancholy. This bond had evolved into a steadfast companionship, a quiet port in the storm of his infernal existence.

Tonight, however, the familiar, comforting symphony of the workshop was absent. The low hum of whirring gears and Lucifer's cheerful, if sometimes off-key, whistling usually spilled into the castle halls, a constant backdrop to the evening. But tonight, a heavy silence pressed against the door, thick and unsettling. You paused, a knot forming in your stomach. This profound quiet was a far more ominous sign than any frustrated outburst. It spoke of a retreat, a deep sinking into the depressive episodes that occasionally consumed him.

You pushed the door open just a crack, the faint creak barely audible in the oppressive stillness. The room was dim, illuminated only by the faint, dust-moted glow of a single task lamp on a workbench. Lucifer sat hunched over, his normally pristine white suit rumpled, his bright colors dulled by the oppressive quiet. His usually impeccable blonde hair was slightly dishevelled, and the ever-present, cheerful tilt of his top hat was gone, left on a nearby shelf. He wasn't tinkering, wasn't sketching, wasn't doing anything but staring blankly at a half-finished automaton duck, its tiny gears motionless, its brass wings unattached. His shoulders seemed to slump under an invisible weight, his head bowed, the very air around him thick with a despair you knew all too well. It was the quiet, suffocating kind of sadness, the one that made him withdraw completely into himself.

Your heart ached. You longed to tell him it would be alright, to offer words of comfort, but you knew better than to try to talk him out of it, to offer platitudes he wouldn't hear. He needed space, not unsolicited advice. He needed presence, not interrogation. And most of all, he needed to feel understood, without having to articulate the crushing weight on his soul. You had learned, over many quiet evenings, that the best solace you could offer was simply to exist alongside him, a grounding force in his turbulent mind.

So, you slipped inside, as silently as a shadow, and closed the door behind you with a gentle click. You didn't approach him directly. Instead, your gaze landed on a clear section of a nearby bench, cluttered with various tools but offering just enough space. You spotted a forgotten lump of modeling clay, soft and pliable, a remnant from one of Lucifer's more whimsical, less precise, experiments.

You pulled up a stool, settling a comfortable distance from him, far enough not to intrude, close enough to be a quiet anchor. You began to work. Your fingers, guided by instinct and a desire to fill the silence with gentle, non-threatening activity, began to sculpt.

First, a tiny, perfectly formed duck. Its beak was just so, its little wings tucked neatly against its sides. You smoothed its head, gave it two miniature, watchful eyes. Then, another. And another. A silent army of little clay ducks began to form, each one slightly unique, yet all possessing that undeniable ducky charm. They were crude compared to his intricate clockwork masterpieces, yet they held a simple, earnest charm. You focused on the delicate details, the tiny feathers, the curve of their miniature bellies.

The only sounds were the soft squish of clay as you worked, the almost imperceptible rustle of your clothes, and the gentle, almost imperceptible creak of Lucifer’s chair as he shifted. He didn't look up, not yet. You kept shaping the next recruit for your growing flock, letting the rhythm of your hands be the only conversation.

After some time, a small, metallic *clink* broke the profound silence. You glanced over, subtly, from the corner of your eye. Lucifer had finally picked up the tiny automaton duck on his bench. He wasn't working on it, just holding it, his thumb slowly stroking its smooth, brass head. His gaze then drifted from the duck in his hand to your quiet, focused efforts. He saw the neat row of completed clay ducks, then the one forming under your nimble fingers. A faint, almost invisible tremor went through his shoulders, but it wasn't a sob. It was a sigh, long and slow, a fraction of the immense tension seeping out of him.

"Still making those little fellows, Y/n?" His voice was a low murmur, rough with disuse, but devoid of its usual forced cheer. It was the first time he'd spoken all evening.

You hummed softly, not stopping your work. "They're good company. A quiet sort of company." You gently pressed a tiny, imagined feather onto the back of the duck you were currently shaping. "Better than just sitting alone with my thoughts, sometimes."

He was silent again for a long moment, watching you. Then, a softer, almost curious tone. "They're… simple. But endearing." He picked up one of your finished clay ducks, a plump one with a slightly lopsided beak. He turned it over, examining its unpolished surface. "Mine are so complicated. So many gears and springs."

"Yours are magnificent," you replied, looking up then, offering a gentle smile. "But sometimes, magnificent isn't what's needed. Sometimes, simple is just right." You gestured to your small, growing flock. "These ones don't need much. Just a place to sit, and someone to keep them company."

He placed the clay duck carefully next to his automaton, as if they were old friends meeting for the first time. He didn't smile, not really, but the tension in his jaw seemed to ease. He leaned back in his chair, a little less hunched than before. The silence returned, but it was no longer heavy. It was soft, filled with the unspoken understanding between two souls, the shared space of gentle artistry, and the quiet comfort of a small, growing army of ducks, now with a new, quiet observer.

· · ───── ·𖥸· ───── · ·

TvT

[hazbin-a-helluvamagines]

Hello! I love the idea of a platonic! yandere! Lucifer Morningstar that treats the reader basically like his adopted child. I would like to see some headcanons on this dynamic!

-🦊♦️

"My Child" ; Lucifer Morningstar

Okay, so first off. Have you seen this man? Absolute daddy material. So soft, so playful, so silly, so gentle, so caring. Literally the opposite of what you'd expect from the literal devil.

I'd imagine you're definitely probably a fallen angel or someone who he's able to see a piece of himself in. Maybe you were thrown out of your family for new ideas and free thinking. Maybe you're a fallen angel. Hell, maybe he just spotted you feeding some ducks. Just as soon as you've managed to make him empathize, you've won his heart.

He'd ask why you're not with your parents. If you don't tell him why, but mention that you have none or yours are bad, he'd sigh and continue speaking to you as normal, offering you a place in the palace with him at the end of the conversation. If you told him why, he'd immediately offer to take you in. He couldn't just leave a child to struggle and fend for themselves on the streets of Hell. That'd be a death sentence for a poor, innocent child.

Once you're there, he'd do absolutely everything to make you feel welcome. His little cherub shouldn't be expected to do anything, they should be able to just relax and feel comfort in a home that was now theirs.

He'd definitely introduce you to Charlie shortly after, and she absolutely adores you, both because you're a cute kid and because there's finally someone to keep her very lonely man of a father company in his huge palace.

If you were ever to ask about Lilith, he'd just smile sadly and try to make some excuse that'd both give you hope while not lying to you.

"Mommy is... out right now. But maybe she'll come back one day."

He'd make ducks of you... a lot of them. A creepy amount, actually. But who could blame him? You're his second chance to be a father right!! He can't lose that! He wants to show you how much he loves you and spend as much time as possible with you!

Lullabies and bedtime stories. Every night. Sorry, I don't make the rules. Cute ones like The Ugly Duckling (Lucifer's favorite), Bearenstain Bears, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, If You Give A Mouse A Cookie, There Was An Old Lady Who Swallowed A Fly, or a cute little pop-up book.

Takes pictures. A lot of pictures. Every day. Of the most mundane things. Just playing with your toys? Picture. Trying to read? Picture? Tried and failed at cooking? Too bad, that's a picture in the scrapbook now.

He'd be legitimately confused if you ever asked him to stop and said you weren't comfortable with it.

"But why, Y/N? You're such a cute little duckling! They're only for personal memories, I won't show them to anyone!"

By that, he means he'll both show them and gush to anyone that will listen to his ranting about you.

He just wants you to know he loves you and never question his adoration for you. :(

He'd try to keep you in the palace... possibly forever. After all, he's already had one person he loved leave seemingly just out of nowhere, he doesn't want to risk you just deciding you're done with him and abandoning him one day, too.

So he has to be by your side.

He HAS to.

Forever.

He has nothing to live for if he isn't.

[cat-mentality]

Back on with my silly qsmp headcanons with zero evidences in canon!!!

The English version:

Foolish has never once in his life tried to pretend to be human, yet people just genuinely think he is like that(tm) and don't question anything he does

As he has shark dna Foolish doesn't need to blink as often as a human, he is therefore great at staring contests (it freaks the fuck out of everyone)

Foolish and Bad keep an score of how many times they have killed each other just to have bragging rights

They have never give an straight answer when someone asks if they have fucked in the past

Bad sings in the shower

Fit is just a regular human but no one believes him when he says it, they all just think he is hiding his true self and he has received MANY talks about "embracing yourself"

Jaiden trauma dumps by accident. She will be having a perfectly normal conversation and then mention something horrible from her past without even meaning to.

Slime can't read a room to save his life, if embarrassement could kill that would be his main cause of death

He once lost control of his human form and left slime goo all over Wilbur right before a concert

Wilbur cannot handle spice.

Neither can Philza actually.

Niki in other hand has bitten peppers before and snacked on them.

Mouse is very open about the fact that she is a demon and she is very pleased that everyone on the Island just takes it in stride, since usually it freaks people out

Mouse is not saying she has partaken in eating human flesh before, but she is also not denying it.

Lenay has a criminal record. No one knows why and she has never answered either.

Tubbo talks with his machines and it freaked him the fuck out when they started to answer him (It's Arin and he is loving this new kid)

Quackity and Mouse once entered a competition on who could hold their breath for longer (The both passed out)

Philza thinks every sickness can be fixed with avocado toast and he will recomend it as legitimate medical treatment

Jaiden talks with parrots and they keep her on loop of all the gossip on the Island

It took Tina literally invoking the powers of hell to people realize she is a demon and not a rabbit hybrid and Mouse was incredibly excited to have a demon bestie

Foolish is in fact jealous

Niki is such a good baker that she has made people cry by how good her food is

Fit spends a lot of his time running around Tubbo and stopping him from poking where he shouldn't, Philza is just glad he has someone to share the babysitting duty

Slime is a light weight, one glass of wine and the man is gone

Niki is an lynx hybrid and she has hissed at people before. She also can sort of understand cats and they follow her around a lot.

Fit is in fact allergic to cats but every cat on the Island seems to really love him

Slime needs his glasses less than his bitch wife so he will sometimes take them off, but it causes a lot of confusion because people fail to recognize him without them

Lenay has a terrible sense of direction, she is just better at following people and hoping for the best

Philza's crows really like both Fit and Tubbo and will sometimes follow them around but get sometimes annoyed that they wouldn't understand them

Bad and Philza were coworkers for a time

Jaiden can't dance but she sure as hell likes to try

Lenay on the other hand is a good dancer but she doesn't usually do it

Tubbo is actually a duck hybrid but literally no ones believes him when he tells them that because all the ducks on the Island hate him

He falls asleep on the most random spots ever because it's less sleeping and more crashing, he doesn't even know where his bed is

Fit will sometimes thrown his mechanical arm at people. No reason but that he felt like doing it.

Bad uses his tail to hit people when they are being annoying.

Foolish once bite his tail in retaliation.

[all-pacas]

#you all know what i mean by now when i say margaret qualley gif.#yeah. yeah#it’s such a pivotal moment for her and it isn’t any less important just because it failed#thinking about informed consent because i rewatched it yesterday but that conversation between foreman and chase where chase tells foreman#that cameron is standing up for what she believes in (by not treatung powell)#has always been so difficult for me to parse#because it feels mocking and yet that doesn’t make sense with the rest of the conversation#ie chase calling foreman a hypocrite and defending cameron’s absence#i think that weird note in his voice is supposed to be. envy. and he’s playing it off#because yeah. cameron is standing up for what she believes in.#and she’ll do it again and again and again#and the one time she tries to do anything else chase pushes her right back into it#house md @eliotquillon

I'M MAKING THIS ONE ITS OWN POST BECAUSE

something i think about all the time is chase talking to dibala right after cameron is threatened and leaves. she's a better person than you, he spits. by implication, given what chase is about to do: she is a better person than himself, too.

chase, we know, spends a lot of time trying, quite badly, not to care. to not be invested. to not get involved. he brushes off support, but he also brushes off questions and patients; foreman chides him in fools for love for acting so normal and unaffected by the incest revelation of the case, for example, but we also know that chase is very bad at this: he cares blatantly, you can't throw a child (or someone with any sort of religious feeling or faith) at him without him opening up; he is relentlessly, painfully earnest with his love. it truly isn't that he doesn't care, but that he is afraid to — even after telling house he has no intention of reconnecting with his father, he ends cursed reaching out a final time anyway, and admits in the mistake and birthmarks that yes, his father's death devastated him despite the imposed distance.

i think chase does envy cameron. because she cares, and she believes, and she'll fight for anyone and anything, and he cares too, and he has strong beliefs (in the tyrant, he actually is the one to come down rather strongly on all murder is wrong, even for a good cause -- ironically! -- and we see plenty of times that he'll venture an opinion and then immediately fold when challenged), but he is afraid to express them because he's been burnt so often. he wants to believe. he wants to be kind. but if house's reaction to the world's cruelty is to be cynical and aggressive, and cameron's is to be demanding and stubbornly insist on better, chase's is to duck his head and hide from it. in universe, chase is considered to be an opportunist, untrustworthy, morally vacant. he is told as much, to his face. he is not a good person. (don't turn into a good guy on me now, cameron tells him, and he loses all his will to resist her advances.)

chase might not be thrilled cameron is opting out of ezra's treatment, but he still doesn't like foreman's hypocrisy in complaining. she is a good person. she's standing up for what she believes.

[letmesleepwhileiwork]

Drawing/Writing Ideas for Dafpork

These are for me and anyone who comes across it as well- it helps to write out ideas! Keeps my brain going at max efficiency (no I cannot use this for schoolwork dafpork only).

Ahem, here we go:

1. Daffy trying to be sneaky with disguises but every time he’s found out by Porky, and Porky doesn’t have the heart to tell him his lisp is way too obvious even when he pitches it differently

2. Porky uses Daffy’s arm as an umbrella because water slides off the feathers, Daffy pretends to huff about it but he secretly enjoys helping out

3. Actor AU Daffy is nervous about his first performance ever because of his big ol’ celebrity crush on Porky

4. Actor AU other way around, Porky is trying to guide a new actor and can’t help but be a little gay fool cuz the new actor is a cutie pie

5. Daffy can’t find anything in his size at the mall so porky tailors something for him that fits perfectly and it’s adorable or something

6. Daffy can’t keep his hands to himself and Porky admonishes him for being grabby but then he realizes he does it to Daffy too and is embarrassed

7. Daffy tells Bugs to pretend to hit him in front of Porky as a prank, Bugs says he doesn’t want to die, Daffy flippantly tells him Porky wouldn’t hurt a fly so Bugs goes through with it then regrets it because he’s getting a death stare and many silent threats now

8. Porky helps Daffy stay warm when he has to stay behind in the winter against his instincts and nature- SUPER FLUFFY.

9. Bugs realizes that Porky gives Daffy special treatment when he tries to wheedle an extra break out of him like he saw the duck do earlier and fails miserably

10. Porky injures himself on set and the person responsible mysteriously finds themselves with bad luck and a significant target on their back for pranks

11. Daffy sheds his flight feathers and confesses the vulnerability it makes him feel to Porky- fluffy fluffy idea.. I wrote a fic like this before but I’m not v happy with it cuz I was 13 but I’m going to revisit it with a new lens!

12. Porky proposes to Daffy or vice versa, they have a goofy little wedding and they love each other and it’s great

13. Porky has a sense for Daffy’s trouble and automatically sets precautions for his tomfoolery without even realizing it. Close that window, use this fire extinguisher now, 🦆 your head here.. etc etc.

14. Someone flirts with either of the sillies and they just rant about their husband until they give up

15. Cadet finds Dodgers has been kidnapped by space pirates and a crew of Martians and finds out he’ll do anything to get his captain back! And realizes why that is along the way.. (this one’s definitely a fic idea as opposed to a drawing)

16. TLTS (not a huge fan but I do like it if I just add some tweaks to porky’s personality cause they made him too much of a pushover) Daffy doesn’t stop therapy and Porky can finally pursue something genuine with him as he learns to be a better person

17. NLT/Wabbit, Daffy admits the reason he’s been chasing after Porky and annoying him this whole time is because he likes him and doesn’t know how to ask him to hang out like a normal ass person

18. NLT/Wabbit, Cupid daffy (partially inspired by Eliza’s AU but also the episode itself) tries to relentlessly chase porky down with the love arrows but his aim is terrible and porky just feels bad for him and agrees to a date without the arrows’ help - pleasantly surprised they uhhh become boyfriends and live happily ever after :)

Ok that’s enough for today ima work on the fic I already have going on now

[bronson4444the2nd]

So... I started playing palworld.

Bad start I know.

I've sunk an good amount of time into it,collected an good amount of pals, not far enough into it for the firearms or mass production stuff but whatever. But I've played enough of it that I think I can say my stance on it.

This game is thriving,because pokemon refuse to inovate or improve.

It designs (wether they are plagerized,inspiered, or other) are not important to me,the more mature "parody" elements are not important to me, the graphic's are not important to me. What IS important to me is the fact that this early access, open world survival game is infinitely more fun then any other attempt to "inovate" on the creature collector genra of video game.

Because it's actually trying to be something different.

Temtem, cassette beasts, nexomon, hell even shin migame tense(Wich was the literal protigener of it) have tried and failed to gain a foothold in the monster collector genra due to the absolute monopoly Pokemon has had on it sense the 1990's, mostly because the earlyer games mentioned have all stuck to the slow, repetitive turnbaised combat that pokemon has dominated and continues to dominate. Palworld is just ARK with pokeballs slapped in,and it is infinitely better then what others have tried to be, because they are so afraid to actually change anything major about it.

You know Legends Arceus? One of the most popular modern pokemon games? How people were super exited for the trailers cause it showed the player ducking & weaving around pokemon's attacking,but then they showed that it was just the normal pokemon combat system of them just standing in place & waiting for each other to attack? Palworld feels like what Legends Arceus should have been.

That would definitely explain why it is the 2nd highest played game on steam & outsold legends Arceus within the first week.

I may love pokemon,but I can't fucking STAND how stale it's become,they refuse to make good games anymore because they both don't have the time to. and know that everyting they release will earn them millions, cause regardless of quality,we will all buy them anyway.

I'm so fucking tired, and Palworld gave me a breath of fresh air that I desperately needed.

So tldr: the pokemon company sucks and these are my favorite designs in palworld

[ghostlykestrel525]

snacks

headcanon: demons do in fact, eat people. they'd be very polite about not eating people their host knows personally and a few of them might even deliberately single out people who have bad habits of hurting others (all four of The Bois (Phan, Mare, Anti, Dark) typically included in that number) but that doesn't mean that it's pleasant to stumble across a half-eaten limb, or in this case, a hungry demon midway through mealtime.

TW: Blood, description of injury. this is something of a horror piece. i'm not overly great at writing but yknow. Phantom eats a person. Who isn't dead when he starts biting. Poor Nate gets hauled out by a concerned smokey-boi, but not before he's seen far too much. I hope I tagged that right i'm still getting used to these things

“Don’t go in there.” The demon grabbed him gently by the shoulders, pushing him back. There was a strange look in Mare’s eyes as he said it, blocking Nate’s path into the living room. This wasn’t exactly normal behaviour, which was undeniably concerning. “...why not?” he questioned, trying to see past Mare’s bulk. The smoke demon adjusted his stance, still carefully placing himself in the way. He let out a soft hiss, an anxiously released breath through clenched fangs. “Phan’s in there,” he mumbled. Nate squinted, suspicions arising in a heartbeat. What was he covering up? What was Phantom doing that was so criminal that Mare was willing to take the chance of trying to hide it? He tried to push past the demon, only to be rebuffed, shoved gently back, Mare staring at him with a strangely soft, almost worried expression. “He won’t leave a mess, I swear,” the smoke demon reassured, glancing over his shoulder. “But– you can’t go in there. Not yet.” This was doing nothing to soothe his nerves. Nate could feel the anxiety rising, bubbling up under his skin, roiling and rippling like boiling water. He hesitated, not wanting to turn away, scared of what might be happening. From somewhere within the room, he thought he heard a faint laugh, something silvery and feminine and decidedly not Phantom’s low, velvet-soft chuckles. He almost relaxed. Just a girl. He’d brought a girl– The muffled scream stopped his thoughts dead in their tracks. That was a scream of pain, a high-pitched shriek of agony that someone else had tried and failed to suppress. He darted forward without thinking, elbowing Mare in the ribs as he ducked past, bursting into the room, wanting to help, thinking there had been some sort of terrible accident.

He staggered to a halt, meeting the terrified, pleading eyes of the woman Phantom had brought home, makeup smearing from her tears, the lower half of her face completely covered by the demon’s hand, clamped down in a viselike grip across her mouth. 

Her body was convulsing wildly, shaking and twitching and struggling, unable to break out of his grasp. The demon’s head was lowered, his lips close to her exposed neck where it met her shoulder, but that was no display of affection. His teeth were sunk deep, rivulets of crimson pouring down her skin from the puncture marks. As Nate watched, transfixed in horror, Phantom pulled his head back. Skin stretched and tore, ripping with a sickening squelch of shredding sinew and fatty tissue, a chunk missing from the softness of her neck. Blood trickled down the demon’s chin, running in another river of red, splattering down onto his victim. He chewed hungrily, swallowed the mouthful, and ducked down again. She twitched violently as his fangs pierced her skin again, another piercing screech muffled beneath his palm. Her eyes widened, begging for help, letting out terrified, pained whimpers, still convulsing. She was bleeding out, and fast - if he was going to act, it had to be now. Nate lurched forwards, trying to summon the breath to so much as call the demon’s name, to distract him somehow - but his progress was halted by what felt like bands of steel, coiling around his chest. The studs of a bracelet pressed against his ribs. Mare. He felt the demon tug him backward, his shoulder blades meeting the tense muscle of Natemare’s chest as he was dragged back. “...leave him, dad. Please,” the smoke demon whispered softly, almost begging. “Too late now, just– c’mon.” Phantom’s head snapped up, yanking his second bite loose much more roughly. His eyes glinted as crimson as the blood soaking through his victim’s dress, wild with bloodlust and hunger - and it became clear that if Nate had gotten closer, tried to intervene, even posed the slightest threat, he’d have been considered part of the meal. The hot burn of revulsion rose in Nate’s throat, bile threatening to make him throw up. Mare gave another gentle yank, taking him so far off balance that he fell back against the demon, leaning his full weight into Mare’s arms and letting himself be dragged backward. The woman was still now, cries silenced, the flow of blood slowing from a tide to a trickle. The light slowly faded from her eyes, becoming glassy, sightless. Lifeless. Death had claimed her. Phantom’s hand shifted from its grip on her face, trailing a smear of blood behind it. He cupped the back of the empty skull in one hand, shifting the body to get an easier angle to take another bite out of the flesh, apparently having forgotten about his audience already. Mare tugged Nate out of the room completely, supporting him in a firm grip, closing the door behind them. For a moment, there was silence, no words to describe the scene they had just witnessed. Nate swallowed thickly, trying to figure out if he was about to be sick, or if he’d be okay. His hands were shaking, the image of those dead eyes still staring at him, frozen in silent, eternal terror, as if it were burned into his mind. “...I did try to warn you.” Mare sighed softly. There was something that wasn’t quite sympathetic in his tone. He seemed to understand the horror, the revulsion, but at the same time… he was a demon, too. He’d probably done exactly the same thing countless times. “If it’s any consolation, we try to pick people who are clearly assholes. Not good people.”

[kimaswork]

ESA Werewolf Bakugou

This is my first actual post so forgive me if it sucks. This was not proofread.

Summary- reader has bad anxiety and was recommended to get an emotional support, but they ended up with a werewolf instead.

1.3k words

You had anxiety, to say the least. It was terrible, and paired with your PTSD? God was it a nightmare! The constant flinching and jumping at the slightest of noises was becoming hazardous. Your life was chaotic and you wanted to fix it, so you went to the doctor in hopes of getting medications. Instead, you ended up having to get a support animal. And without getting any meds, you had no other choice but to do as you were told. So without argument you went to the center they recommended to you and entered.

Upon entering you looked around, noticing a calm and peaceful aura about the place. “Hello.” a receptionist said, making you jump back with a gasp. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She apologized. “I-It’s fine.” you say with a stutter. You walk towards her and set down your papers of referral, “I was told to come here to get a support animal.” you say, just like you had practiced in the car, multiple times, before entering. She looks at the papers and nods, “Alrighty then, lets get you back into a room and introduce you to a few. We can do the paperwork afterwards.” She smiles as she walks you back to a room with a chair. You sit and wait as she leaves to get the first dog.

Upon her return you saw another man behind her. You were confused for a moment before you looked closer, they weren’t a man, they were a hybrid. “This is Jack,” she introduces as she motions to a german shepherd hybrid, “He’s 26 and was trained for emotional support.” you nod as you look up at him. He was tall and lean, with neatly trimmed fur and a straight face. You gave him a small wave and he nodded in return. They stayed and talked with you for a few minutes before leaving. The receptionist then returned, “So?” she asked. “I don’t think I would do well with him.” you reply. “Okay, that’s totally fine. I’ll go get someone else then.” she states as she leaves and soon returns with another hybrid.

The process continued for a few hours, your anxiety rising with each new face you met. After the 17th hybrid the receptionist came back alone. “We only have one other service animal here,” she says, “But normally he has to choose if he goes with you or not… he’s rather picky.” she explains. You nod your head, “O-okay, let’s try.” She leaves and returns moments later with a massive figure behind her. You tremble slightly in your seat just at the sight of him. “This is Bakugou, he’s actually not a hybrid,” She says as she holds the door open for him to enter. He was so tall, he had to duck to even get through the door. “He’s a purebred werewolf.” she finishes. Honestly, you could’ve guessed that just from his hulking size but it was clear once you saw his carmine eyes. His stare was intense yet soft as he looked at your small form. You were about to attempt to say ‘Hello’ before he strode across the room towards you, None of the others had approached you, so this was surprising to you and it made your anxiety spike. He sat on the floor beside you and placed a massive paw on your thigh. You flinched at his contact, making him look at you with a concerned gaze. He looks back to the receptionist and says, “Her, I’ll go with her.”

She has a shocked expression with wide eyes, “Really?” she questions, and he nods in return before turning back to you and laying his head down on your legs. He could smell you, and he knew you were practically terrified. He knew you had issues just like all the others that had tried and failed to acquire him as a support. But you were different somehow, your scent had an undertone of what seemed like a permanent fear. You look down at him, still fearful, but the pressure he had on your legs was… Comforting? He looked up at you slightly before applying more weight, noticing how your trembling had stopped. “I'll go get the paperwork.” the receptionist says then leaves, making you flinch. Bakugou glares at the door where she left before returning his attention to you.

Time flew by as Bakugou kept you calm, or as calm as you could get, while you did the paperwork. Within the hour the two of you were out of the center and in your car heading back to your apartment. He sat in the passenger seat, hunched over due to his size. You made your way across town and parked at your apartment building. He looked out the window before exiting your rather small car, looking back at you when you didn’t exit with him. He stalked around the car to your door and opened it for you. You flinched and whipped your head to the side, looking at him timidly as your body was stiff. He kneeled down to your level and unbuckled you. “C’mon, let’s get you inside.” He says, his gruff voice shaking you from your stupor. You slowly got out of the car and locked it once he closed the door behind you. “S-sorry.” you apologize as you began to walk to your door. “For what?” he asks, confusion in his tone. “Well. my anxiety is really bad and-” “I know.” he cuts you off, “I read your file before I went to go meet you.” he clarifies before you could even ask how he knew. You unlock your door and let him enter first before following behind and closing the door again. You give him a small tour of the house, speaking very little as you showed him each room. He could smell you throughout the house, the scent of fear and panic ever present.

Finally you got to the last room and opened the door, “This is your room.” You say. He leans in and sniffs the air, “No.” is all he says before walking away. You look at him perplexed, “No?” you ask. “I won’t stay in there, your scent is faint, so you don’t frequent the area often.” he begins and you watch him head towards your room. “For me to do my job I need to be near you constantly, to help and assist you. So I’ll be staying in your room.” He finishes. “A-alright.” you comply as you follow him into your room. He sits on the floor and looks at you, “Sit.” he says, tone demanding. You obey and sit on your bed before him, brows scrunched in mild concern. He leans forward and lays his head on your lap once more, almost immediately calming you with the comforting  pressure. “Y-you can come on the bed if you want.” you offer, voice low. He nods and wordlessly crawls onto the bed behind you. You were about to turn to look at him before you felt him pull you into his lap. Not expecting him to do such a thing you panicked and gasped as your body grew rigid. “Shhh-” he shushes you in a soothing tone as he holds you close to his body. Enveloping you with his massive frame and applying a constant pressure to calm you. You look up at him, “Bakugou?” You ask, silently asking what he was doing. “Call me Katsuki.” he says. You nod as you slowly relax into him, his soft fur brushing against your cheek with every powerful breath he breathes. He looked down at you with a soft grin, “Better?” he asks, to which you nod. You couldn’t explain it but he made you feel calm, he made you feel safe. You knew you could trust him with your health and your life. “Good.” he says as he rests his head atop yours, “Get some rest, I can tell you’re tired.” you hum in understanding as you close your eyes, letting him take care of you.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ That's all I got for now but lemme know if I should do a part 2 or some headcannons ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @eatdearth, @realmackross TIMING: Mid-Late June, not too long after Mack's arrival to Wicked's Rest SUMMARY: Two lost souls looking to bury their sorrows in drinks come together to form a new friendship. WARNINGS: Alcoholism tw, mental health tw

Mackenzie needed a drink. No. She needed several drinks. Living in the stupor she had been in for quite some time was getting somewhat old, so venturing out beyond her normal day to day activities just felt right. That’s why she had currently found herself standing in front of The Wormhole. It was the roughest looking bar she had seen, and if a fight or two broke out, even better.

Walking inside, she was greeted by a haze of smoke, the sound of whiskey being poured and glasses being drunkenly slammed down on the bar as a sign of needing another shot. Mackenzie glanced around before moving over and finding a seat one stool down from someone who looked just as down on their luck as she did, “I’ll have a double of the strongest stuff you carry. Thanks.” Turning her head, Mack spoke to the stranger sitting near her, “Come here often?”

—

The Wormhole wasn’t a place Jasper frequented. Worm Row wasn’t a neighborhood he wanted to visit. Not ever. The place scared him. He’s heard numerous bad things about it, though he paid more attention to the violence and danger that his students and even some colleagues have shared within his earshot. But when a pretty girl chatted him up online and told him she wanted to finally meet up, Jasper gathered all his courage to come all the way down to this place, only to get mugged in a darkened alley where he thought something else was waiting for him. Yikes.

Jasper had just taken a sip of his half-empty glass when someone sat beside him. Well, one stool down. To him, that was close enough. He tried his best to appear local so he wouldn’t get targeted again, but all that leaning forward, hunching his back, made him look even more vulnerable, scared, like a dumbfounded duck stuck in the middle of a lake filled with crocodiles. Another yikes. 

“Hmm?” Was that a pick-up line? Jasper was surprised, so much so that he hesitantly turned toward her, his face beaming when he realized she wasn’t a massive muscle-bound jerk with a baseball hat and a bandana designed after the American flag. Hoo-rah! “Oh, y-yeah! For sure. This place is my favorite place in town. The food here is great. H-have you tried the…” The geology professor squinted, trying to read the menu, more appropriately find a food item on there that wasn’t just a bag of freaking chips, but failed miserably. “...I’m Jasper, by the way. Enchante!”

—

Mackenzie could tell the man was nervous. Which had somewhat surprised her, because she was the least intimidating looking person in the room, even though she could rip your heart right out of your chest if she were hungry enough. Lucky for him, she wasn’t. But she had seen plenty of starstruck fans, and while this wasn’t quite the same, she knew a little extra charm might have been needed to calm his fears, despite the effort it took, “Really? You don’t seem so sure about that.” She offered him a friendly smile as she watched him stumble through his words, finally ending with his name, “But it’s nice to meet you, Jasper. I’m Mack.”

Watching the glass filled with a dark liquid come sliding her way, Mackenzie stuck out her hand and caught it. She wasn’t sure what kind of treat she was in for, but she was hoping it would have some kick, “Bottoms up, I guess.” And with that, Mack threw her head back taking in the liquid that barely made a dent in her taste buds. “Not what I expected, but I think it’ll do the trick.” She turned to the bartender, “I’ll have another and a basket of fries.” If she was going to drink, she was going to eat as well, despite how dull it all tasted.

“So what brings you out tonight? And here of all places…” Mack couldn’t really judge the man as she sat right next to him drowning her sorrows in alcohol. It seemed like The Wormhole was definitely the right place for the brokenhearted and downtrodden.

—

Jasper tried to apologize with his face, an awkward shrug with an even more awkward grin, but only made it worse. Or at least he thought that made it worse. Most people would. “Mack…” he nodded his head, mouthing the words a few more times, as if imprinting it in his head. There was something about the name that made him think. As he squinted his dark brown eyes on her face, something else added to that other something. “Have we met?”

The words crawled out of his mouth like an unintentional, unavoidable spill from the local community pool when someone makes an illegal cannonball splash, water splish sploshing outside its natural confines. Jasper realized his gaze had been stolen by the drink she had so expertly taken, caught impressed by it all, before refocusing his attention back on her face as she gulped all that alcohol down her throat, even more impressive. “I’ll have what she’s having,” he mumbled, raising a finger slightly in the air without even turning to the confused bartender, more confused at the strange first-timer than his order. 

“Ah, well,” when she returned the spotlight to him, Jasper scrambled for an excuse, not unlike a hungry rat who’s been panicked by the footsteps of the homeowner. “...I didn’t want to drink alone. Or anywhere close to where I live.” Was that even an excuse? It seemed too honest for him to be one. “You?”

—

Mackenzie watched him repeat her name knowing exactly what he was doing. She had done the exact same thing many times in her life, just trying to keep cast members, crew members, and the bosses and people who gave her jobs straight. It had almost been a job within itself. And then it came, the all too common question and the squint. Did she tell him who she really was or did she just play it off as coy. Coy it was, “No, I’m pretty sure I just have one of those faces.” It wasn’t that she was trying to trick him with ill-intent, she had just wanted to enjoy her night out without the possibility of a crowd forming.

She had been impressed with his request to have what she had ordered considering if it was strong enough for her to taste, he was going to have a hell of a good time, “I’m impressed. Most people don’t go that hard, but, mad respect for you, new friend.” Mackenzie smiled warmly at him; his fumbling behavior making her feel much at ease.

Drink alone. That one hit her in her soul. Since coming to Wicked’s Rest, Mackenzie had been alone, “Honestly? The same reason. Drinking alone has never really been my thing. Thought coming to a bar might be a little more…fun?” Was going to a bar to drink out of sadness actually fun? She didn’t know, but here she was. “Who wants to drink away their sorrows while watching reruns of Grey’s Anatomy or Stranger Things?” Stranger Things didn’t look so strange now.

—

Jasper nodded, a little disappointed at her answer. He had already spun a story in his head of how they first met, a lot of stories, each different from the rest. Maybe they had met at a conference somewhere else, both passionate educators, both exchanged numbers, but both got too busy to contact each other ever again. Maybe she was an old student, more of a teaching assistant, both flirted for fun but nothing ever came out of it. Maybe she was a spy sent to protect him because one of his scientific papers on geology hid a secret so important to the world, countries were now fighting over his genius. 

“Maybe,” Jasper nodded pensively, shifting his gaze toward the bar’s displayed bottles. “Just one of those pretty faces…” He chuckled, tilting his glass toward him in what he believed was a show of equal respect. “Oh, I can go hard,” he turned back to her, nodding in support of his wild claim. “So very hard.” It took him a few seconds longer than he would have liked, but he realized that might have been construed as a dirty pick-up line, which consciously it wasn’t. Subconsciously, however, his mind was too cluttered to object to that perception. “I mean, with the drinks…”

“That’s fair,” Jasper took another sip of his glass, grimacing as the alcohol burned his throat, most likely karma reminding him to be less creepy, even if he never intended to be creepy. That’s just what happens when your late uncle raises you on your own, away from family or friends, in a creepy manor in the mountains. Fortunately for him, at least he was oblivious to what actually happened to his family and his own uncle’s involvement from their supposed disappearance. “Why would anyone like you end up drinking alone, though? And with…sorrows?” She was too pretty to be this sad, was the first thing that came to his mind before he realized if someone told him that, he’d try to use his magic to discreetly put some dirt in their eye.

—

That had been her go to. One of those faces. Some people it worked on, but the people who watched her religiously, it didn’t. And those were the days she disliked. Being hounded for a job she’d been thrown into as a child. Sure, she didn’t mind fans, but it had been the fans that seemed to stalk her and follow her wherever she went. There were just some people who had spent their entire lives believing lies that their mind told them, and to a certain point, it scared Mackenzie. That’s why, the one of those faces excuses never made her feel as bad as she initially did, before things had first gotten out of hand.

“Sorry to disappoint. If it makes you feel any better, I get that a lot.” Mackenzie shrugged blushing softly at his compliment, letting the facade linger. If he eventually figured it out, there was nothing she could do, but instead, she’d just enjoy the moment for what it was - another stranger in a bar looking to drink away life’s pain.

Raising her eyebrows at his comments, she watched in amusement as his face distorted from the burn of the alcohol. It definitely hadn’t been for the faint of heart. Had she still been alive, she would have been drinking something fruity and icey, but bland just didn’t do the trick for her anymore. And she wasn’t entirely sure this would either, “I know what you mean. They are pretty hard.” She couldn’t help but wink at him. He seemed sweet enough, despite some of his comments, but his nervousness had been pretty obvious, and the fact that he wasn’t being cocky had made her trust him even more.

With a fresh drink now sitting in front of her, Mack decided to take this one slower; try to enjoy it, but she couldn’t wait for the fries, even if she couldn’t taste them. Maybe the heat would allow her to feel something that the alcohol couldn’t, “Hey, I can be “pretty” and still have problems, Buddy. It’s not just for regular people like yourself.” Crap. Had that been the wrong thing to say? Oh well. It was out there now. “Besides, you didn’t exactly get hit with the ugly stick either.”

—

“Oh, no, you didn’t,” Jasper scrambled to fix what he perceived was a mistake on his part. “You didn’t disappoint me...” That was true. How could she? She was gorgeous. And she was taking time and making an effort to have a conversation with him of all people. “If anything, I disappointed myself.” Also true, despite the fact that it was a habit by now, disappointing himself. He did take great pride in being able to remember his students’ faces, familiar faces, ever so far and few in between, so this was one was a loss in that regard. “I thought I remembered you, and I was wrong, that’s all!”

Jasper offered her a friendly smile that turned into an awkward chuckle, a hand scratching his head. That wink was what made him feel much better. His heart rate began to slow down again, normalize, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of anything other than the hard drink he had in his system. Was she too young, though? That was always the question running in his mind, especially after his last relationship. It wasn’t with a student, of course, but with another professor, of a different department, but the question of his professionalism was always raised by him and him alone, in his head most often, as an argument for his loneliness. If he could only spend his days at work, and he can’t date anyone at work, maybe it was for the best. 

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just bad at this,” he laughed again, shaking his head. Jasper didn’t take offense to being called a ‘regular person.’ He was. Not even comparing himself to her, he already knew and accepted that he was. Never thought of being anything else, anything more. Compared to her, though, this bright-eyed golden goddess? He was lucky she even considered him ‘people.’ He took another swig of his drink to calm his nerves down, give himself a rush of confidence. Or more accurately, an excuse should he fail. “Thanks, that means a lot coming from a pretty face.”

“So,” Jasper leaned forward on the counter, making himself comfortable, as clinked their glasses together, his against hers. “You having fun yet?” He hoped she’d say just yes, but if she didn’t, his mind started to think of ways to help her have fun. One of those ideas, he knew wouldn’t happen, but the possibility made him feel good. Like a freshman who had just come across the prettiest girl in class, who doesn’t have to worry about dying alone yet. “Or would you rather talk about those problems? I can listen. I literally have nothing better to do.”

—

Mackenzie hadn’t expected to be entertained on her night out to drink away her sorrows. In fact, it was usually her that was entertaining, especially when people realized who she was. She could be sitting at a table reading emails on her phone, and pictures would still be taken of her. And while sometimes it bothered her, if she wasn’t in the best place mentally, most days it didn’t. If people wanted to spend their limited time on Earth snapping photos of someone doing absolutely nothing, then that was their business. She had learned early on not to give people an exciting show, because of the repercussions it could have. Of course, being a zombie and dead and hungry for brains at certain times in her life, made that a little harder sometimes. Case and point with Brody.

“I understand disappointing yourself. And then it’s all on you to pull yourself out of a hole of despair right?” She knew this feeling all too well, and lately, it had been harder and harder to get out of, “But that’s why the fates put us together tonight. To lift up two complete strangers and let them know that life is gonna be okay.” Okay, even Mack was struggling with believing the bullshit she was spewing right now, but if it helped him, that’s what mattered right?

“And hey, I’m not the best at this either. I literally came here with the idea to drown away my sorrows in alcohol…” She glanced around, “in the most depressing looking bar in Wicked’s Rest.” She laughed softly as she set her eyes back on him, “Well, thank you for the kind words. And I’m sorry, if I might’ve said the wrong thing a while ago. My foot likes to live in my mouth sometimes.” Mackenzie bit her lip, before looking away for a minute somewhat embarrassed if she had insulted him.

Catching him sliding forward and then seeing the clink of the glasses made Mackenzie ease up some. He apparently was fine with her, and she hadn’t driven off the one person she was enjoying talking to, “I actually am having fun. I thought I would be indulging in the nastiest drink known to man while I ate fries and watched WWE alone.” She motioned to the TV on the wall that looked almost as old as she was, “Are you a fan?”

—

“All on us, yeah,” Jasper heaved a sigh, not really agreeing with that thought, but hell, if a lot of people agree with it, who was he not to? That’s always been a problem with him. Like the black sheep of the herd, he’s always had questions, only to give those questions up when the rest of the herd agree on not asking questions. Maybe he still had questions right then, right there, but the pretty girl did have a point. “It’s gonna be okay, sure.”

“You and me both,” Jasper let out a chuckle, shaking his head. He felt as if they were kindred spirits, both terrible at…whatever this was, both running to hide in terrible corners with their sorrows, and both sometimes with respective feet in their mouths. A weird thought came to him but he decided to just shake it off, away, not wanting to ruin this moment in time. “You’re welcome, and I should be the one thanking you. For keeping someone like me company. You really look like you shouldn’t be down here, with us, mortals.” He chuckled again, finishing up his drink.

“I am actually,” Jasper frowned, though a smile remained on his face. “Are you, too?” He hadn’t met that many WWE fans, especially not women, though to be fair, he hadn’t met that many women or had spoken to many women this long for them to reveal their fandoms. This was a miracle, it seemed to him. “Actually have old PPV DVDs at my place,” he continued, a voice in the back of his head laughing at the idea that if she asked what DVDs were, then she’d probably be too young for him. Also, PPVs. Don’t they call them something else these days? “Maybe we can watch them together sometimes? I have this set that’s all about Eddie Guerrero.”

—

It was nice having a kindred spirit to sit and shoot the shit with. To not feel quite so alone in a strange town. And though she knew they were both two completely different people with different interests and paths in life, Mack found solace in their need to discuss life and its current qualms, “It will be. I hope. No, it will be. No negative self-talk in a bar. That’s cause for a spiral.” She looked down at the drink again, refusing to take a sip. She wanted her fries, dammit.

There he went with the flattery again. Mackenzie blushed softly and shook her head, “Are you kidding me, man? You’re totes giving me like the hero of the movie vibes - kind heart. Not cocky. Adorable. And I am far from anything Heavenly.” I could smash your head open and eat your brain in a matter of minutes. “Don’t ask me why or how? But just know, it’s not pretty.” It really wasn’t, and most days she hated herself for it too.

Finally, my fries! As the golden delicious morsels were sat down in front of her, Mackenzie leaned towards the bartender, “Can I get some hot sauce and keep the drinks coming for me and my friend here. Just put it on my tab.” She glanced over to Jasper with a grin, before taking in as much of the smell of hot fries as she could. She was willing to share, but not until she had the first bite. If it burnt her cold, dead tongue, then so be it, “I am. I grew up on WWE. Even been to a few shows. What about you?” She had heard the term PPV, but wasn’t exactly sure what it was. It didn’t matter though, she found something that she could discuss for hours with a total stranger at an even stranger bar, “A buddy to watch wrestling with? Count me in.” Picking up her drink, she sipped it slowly, before pushing the basket towards Jasper, “Fry?” What started out to be a rough night was already starting to look up.

[imjustabeanie]

Matchup trade with @karusenka

Your Hazbin hotel match is....Lucifer!

Now even with your no no character I would’ve chosen Lucifer. You two are made for each other! You both need a fun partner with whom you can be yourself and won’t stress you out. Plus you’re both short (jk. He’s short compared to other demons but probably tall compared to humans lol. But you my friend are short).

You two met at the hotel, you were a friend of Charlie and somehow clicked with her dad. While the romantic tension appeared pretty early between you two, there was a lot of pinning. Lucifer never really got over Lilith and is pretty bad at social interactions to be honest. He probably lost hope in love and is just focused on helping his daughter. Said daughter is actually the one who encouraged him to go back to dating seeing how lonely he is. Lucifer may be prideful (he’s pride duh) but he sent a duck to ask you out. Yes a rubber duck somehow spelled will you be my lover and when you accepted you heard a loud ‘yes! (take that depression!’ in the hallway.

One of the reasons Lucifer liked you is actually your humor to be honest. Hey it may be childish to some but he’s a history old fallen angel making rubber ducks in his room. He literally can’t judge you. Especially when he himself chimes in with jokes of his own. They’re mostly bad puns and bad jokes which makes everyone groan and made Charlie question why she let the two of you meet. Don’t get me started on his corny pick up lines! You two are a funny couple who prank people and just live life as it is. He tries to appear serious but fails spectacularly when he’s with you. He just feels comfortable enough to be himself. Away from the judgmental stares and calculating glares. Only moment where he’ll get serious is when someone somehow attacks you. He won’t hold back at all. Scary dog privileges lol.

Just like you, Lucifer gets annoyed when his kindness and actions aren’t recognized. Which is normal, if you go out of your way to help out someone the least they can do is thank you. You two always notice each other actions and it’s nice because none feels ignored. He feels valued, like he can lift mountains without breaking a sweat (which he probably can honestly) when you acknowledge him. It’s because he shares his love in acts of service, words and some gift giving. He does his best to make your stay as comfortable as he can and literally treats you like a queen. He acknowledge your feelings and validates them. You don’t have to feel so guilty for being yourself. You’re in the right and some pride is good for you. Don’t let yourself be dragged to the mud. He probably shows off the things you do for him to be honest. Lucifer finds your sensitive soul to be endearing. He’s probably sensible too but had to harden himself to stay where he is. That’s why he cheriches it, you’ll notice by the hearts in his eye and the tight hug he gives you. He teaches you to put yourself first more often and turn a blind eye to what people say no matter how hard it is (if they say something mean….well good luck). Only thing that makes him worry is your clumsiness. He’s at this from babyproofing some rooms.

Lucifer also enjoys horror and probably introduces you to different horrors through time if you catch my drift. He’ll have some very good book recommendations and will help you meet the authors if they’re in hell. It always surprised people that you’re such a fan of horror despite your love for cute things. Your dates with Lucifer are often movie dates, shopping or just lazing around at home talking and rambling together. I see him being good at sketching and likes to do all those couple stuff you see on media like switching the canva every 5 minutes etc. He likes all those couple stuff. Also don’t worry for cooking, he has private chefs….I believe he shouldn’t be let a foot near a kitchen.

[razieltwelve]

Mother and Son (Final Rose x Bleach)

Masaki’s eyes widened as the Hollow closed in and her Quincy powers stuttered and failed to activate.

No!

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ichigo. She had to protect him! It didn’t matter if her Quincy powers weren’t working. He was her son. If she had to give her life then -

SQUELCH.

The Hollow crashed to the ground, split cleanly in two. There was another whistling sound and the halves became quarters. And still the Hollow tried to rise only to be crushed into pulp by an overwhelming force from above that cracked the pavement and sent the rain flying outward.

Masaki stumbled to a stop beside Ichigo and moved in front of him.

“Who’s there?” she shouted. “Who did that?”

A figure emerged from amidst the carnage. Her eyes narrowed. What... what was she looking at?

Her spiritual senses were telling her that the person in front of her was a normal human woman, but that was impossible. A normal human could never have done what she’d just seen, which meant that this person had the ability to camouflage their spiritual power perfectly.

“Hello there.” The woman had sapphire eyes and dark, spiky hair. “You’re not injured, are you? I wasn’t going to intervene, but then your powers just... stopped working.” The woman smiled, and her teeth were just a bit too long and a bit too sharp to be human. “And don’t worry. I’m not with this loser.” The woman raised her hand, and the soul and pulped, broken remains of the Hollow flowed into a sphere of spiritual power and gore that the woman devoured with obvious relish. “Hmm... not too bad. It takes a bit like beef.”

“What... what are you?” Masaki whispered.

“You know,” the woman said. “I’ve always had a soft spot for kids... and their parents. Whatever I am, you don’t have to worry about me going after you or your family unless you go after me first.” She tilted her head to one side. “Are your powers still not working?”

Masaki tried to use her powers again, but they were gone... like there was a hole in her soul. She needed to talk to her husband and Ryuken about this, not to mention Urahara. Something was very, very wrong. “No.”

“Hmm... you’re a Quincy, right?” The woman walked closer, and Masaki took a reflexive step back, careful to keep Ichigo sheltered behind her. Her son was clinging onto her tightly, but she did her best to soothe his concerns, running one hand through his hair. “Relax. I already said you don’t have anything to fear from me.” She grinned. “Would it help if I promised?”

“Uh...”

“Heh. Probably not.” The woman chuckled. “Would it help if I said that if I wanted you and the rest of the city dead, you all would be?”

“No!” Masaki cried.

“Yeah. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.” The woman laughed. “I’m sorry. It’s the company I keep. Anyway, why don’t I walk you and your kid home. Without your powers you’re a sitting duck for Hollows, but you’re exactly the kind of tasty morsel they’ll go after.”

“...”

“Oh, fine.” The woman reached into empty space and then tossed a sword to Masaki. “If you’re so worried, you can have that.”

Masaki caught the sword. “What is this?”

“It’s a little something I put together as a... test. That sword is made of materials that are designed to damage spiritual beings like Hollows and Soul Reapers. It can also absorb ambient spiritual power to fuel other functions like throwing energy blasts.” The woman snickered. “But don’t go pointing it at a Vasto Lorde or something. That wouldn’t end well.”

“Why would you give me this?”

“Because it’s a trinket to me, and I’ve already come up with better weapons. But right now, you need it.” The woman shrugged. “And that kid of yours is wearing the right sort of merchandise. How could I let a Gary fan lose their mother?”

“Gary?” Masaki stared. Gary was the new cartoon that had come out. It was popular with all the kids, and Ichigo had won a hat as a prize in a raffle at the local shopping mall the other day. It was a garish orange, but he seemed to like it. “That’s...” She sighed. “You know what? Fine. If you want to walk us home, be my guest. If you were going to hurt us, you probably would have by now.” She paused. “And what should I call you?”

“Call me...” The woman paused dramatically. “Claw.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Diana was planning on eating Grand Fisher because she doesn’t like him, but she thought she’d let Masaki deal with him since it would give her an opportunity to see another Quincy in action. When her powers failed, she decided to intervene since, as Diana says, she’s got a soft spot for kids and their parents.

At this point in the timeline, Diana has already eaten enough people to understand how to perfectly camouflage her spiritual pressure, which what allows her to go to the Human World and do all sorts of things... like spread Gary to another world.