#i can't sleep so i just doodled a chicken

[greycaelum]

HI!I LOVEEEE YOUR WRITING!!!!

Can i pls pls plssss request a one shot with gojo and his girlfriend,where his gf always get really excited about snowing,to the point of jumping up and down and her eyes twinkling like a child?!

Its snowing in my city and i keep jumping up and down ;)

Scribbles and Doodles: { Let it Snow }

—Gojo Satoru X Reader

"Hi sweetheart, thank you for your kind words, I'm sorry it took me so long. Research and my job kept me preoccupied. I hope it's still snowing and be careful too! Have tons of warm stuff to keep you toasty and snug in the winter!" —Grey,

Satoru woke up to a chilly morning. He remembers turning the air condition mid-2 of the dawn after getting chills but now, it was even colder. Peeling off his mask, Satoru turn to his window and saw the grey skies, and he has to double-take at the white thing slowly falling off and cluttering on his windowsill.

It's snowing.

And by any chance, he's hearing a familiar voice faintly laughing.

Satoru groaned, pulling off the covers from his naked body. Rubbing his bleary eyes, he walks to his window and looks down. As if in a queue, you run through the small pile of gathering snow, a wide smile adorning your face, still in your hoodie pajamas.

"She'll catch a cold." Satoru clicked his tongue and grab his clothes. His muscles are aching and he'd rather sleep than trudge into the frosty powder winter has to offer. Satoru stop his tracks and went back to the bedroom. Rummaging through the cabinets he found his jacket and went out of the room.

"'Toru! It's snowing!" You shrilled at him. You ran in his direction and almost tripped on the slippery ground.

"Fuck, Baby, you trying to give me a heart attack?" Satoru held your arms and steadied you.

You just grinned in reply and stood on your tiptoes, grazing your lips to smear a kiss on your boyfriend's cheeks before turning your heel and tumbling on the snow again.

"Slow down, you little rascal, you wanna catch a cold or somethin'?" Satoru pulled back the scruff of your hoodie making you recoil and yelp.

He wraps his thickest available jacket around you, zipping the thing that reaches your ankles all thanks to his height, and pulls the hood over your head.

"There," Satoru smirked at your pout. "Now that's what you call a burrito."

"I can't move!" You flail around with difficulty, all the blame falling into the jacket's thick insulation. "'Toru! Get this off, you cheater, you're not even wearing one." You accused.

Satoru is tempted to hold a carrot around your nose but throws off the idea if he doesn't wanna sleep on the couch. After all winter's privilege is getting to cuddle you more to share warmth.

"I don't catch a cold, because I'm the stro—" Satoru pointed at himself assuringly.

"Because you're abnormal." You deadpanned and turn around, marching off.

"Hey! That's just mean. Come back here!" Satoru bends down and makes a ball of snow throwing it on you.

"Y-You!" You turned around only to get hit by another on your chest. It didn't take long for you and Satoru to have a snowball war filling the front yard with squeals and snowballs hitting whatever it hits.

By the time you're both spent, laying on the snow with a snow angel behind you both, your hands are all numb from the snow and Satoru's nose is almost as red as Rudolph's. Both of you panting but holding your hands together. This time a thin layer of Satoru's Infinity encases you to keep snow from getting in your eyes. Catching your breaths you both went inside, got into a warm bath, and eventually found yourselves tucked on the couch of the living room, hot cocoa in your hand, a bowl of chicken broth in Satoru's, and a thick quilt covering the two of you.

The snow quietly piles up outside, sweeping the city into a white wonderland. You and Satoru curled up on each other, snug and cuddled in each others' arms.

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned image(s) and song(s) used belongs to their respective owner(s)

General Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @lexiene @tender-rosiey

[willowedwisteria]

Summary -> Lovestruck stares <33

Warnings -> NOT PROOFREAD

Featuring -> Itto, Heizou

Genre -> Fluff ofc what

Heizou From you:

Heizou was munching and relishing the fried chicken in his mouth when he caught you staring at him

At first, he was like, "You want this fried chicken don't you 🤨🤨"

Was conflicted between eating it all right in front of you for an amusing reaction or actually sharing it like a good person

It's not as if Heizou is a good person...

But he isn't a bad one either!!!

However, when Heizou actually offers you a part of his fried chicken, at least when he was about to raise his hands up to you, he noticed that... that...

HEARTSTOPPING SMILE ON YOUR FACE??!?!?!?!?!?

It was so relaxed, but at the same time, it made you look as if you were just... enjoying staring at him. The way your hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head to the side, and just grinning at him.

He planned to play a little prank on you, but it seems like the tables have been turned without you even knowing.

"...you want one?"

"Oh, oh! Yeah, thanks,"

The way you just forgot about the chicken after he passes it to you, and continues to gaze at him.

He can't solve the mystery, the mystery of why you have eyes that cause the butterflies in his stomach to multiply.

From him:

It was a really REALLY late night trying to solve this case that had been collecting dust for weeks now.

You had decided a long while ago that you wouldn't disturb him or interrupt him (despite the multiple times that he would strike up a conversation with you while you were reading your book)

It looked more as if you were working instead of him

Usually, he could figure out a case once he gathers all of the information in one place. However, he just can't solve this for some weird reason. It was something he just couldn't put his finger on.

Leaning back into his chair, his head thrown back as he mindlessly stares at the ceiling.

"(Name), I really can't crack this case open :((" He'll whine softly to you

Once he hears soft snores instead of your voice, Heizou will glance at you and the realization finally hits him. Your body was slumped over with your arms used as a cushion to rest your head.

Strolling over to you, he'll peer over your shoulder to see you trying to solve part of the case with him. You got a little distracted and started to doodle though...

Whether it was a stickman version of him holding your hand or multiple smiley faces adorning the piece of paper your body clamped against the table - it was all such an adorable sight.

A soft sigh escapes him, it was almost as if he could regain his energy just by being with you alone.

Sloppily picking up a pencil - vision a blur due to how exhausted his body was, Heizou finishes the other half of your heart and writes both of your initials inside of the heart.

Brushing through your hair before interlocking his fingers with yours, a silent "I love you" was passed to you as he continues to just gaze at your sleeping figure.

Once you wake up, you'll be surprised to see Heizou sleeping right next to you, mumbling in his own sleep your name the moment you try to move away.

Itto From you:

Practically bathing in your attention

Is not in the slightest bit embarrassed by it at all. In fact, he enjoys putting a smile on your face

During one of his performances, he watched as you continued to giggle and laugh at him, how you genuinely cheered for him during the performance and the way you were so invested in the story and looked out for his gang.

AND WHEN I TELL YOU THAT THE ARATAKI GANG WAS ITTO'S WINGMEN, I MEAN IT.

How could they miss it? How lovestruck you were with their boss was something that they couldn't ignore! You made their boss so happy too

Before the performance, I bet there was a lot of teasing going on.

"Oh, look who's here, it's (Name) boss!!"

"Really?!" Itto will peek his head out of the curtain to spot you in the crowd. "Then I have to look extra good tonight! We've gotta put on an AWESOME show for them!"

Cheeks brushed with pink, he won't be able to resist that boost in motivation and mood once he sees you.

"Boss! Boss! I heard (Name) was planning to give a kiss to their favorite performer." Stuff like that was being passed around like wildfire in the Arataki gang.

You had no idea what was going on backstage.

At the end of the performance, he'll just drop his props and just sprint to you. Picking you up by the waist and lifting you in the air, repetitively asking if he impressed you or not.

Once you finally let your feet touch the ground, you peck him on the cheek which gives him your answer.

Just peppers your face with kisses after that, no context or reason at all.

From him:

Poor Arataki Itto, bedridden with a stomach ache that feels like a punch to the gut.

How was he supposed to know that the bowl of food that you conveniently left out in the open - that you had asked him to take care of - had beans in them???

What a shame, he had so much planned for the day (no he didn't.)

Kuki should be taking care of his gang right now, but even he can feel the heartache and misery without him around. He can just sense their despair on his "death" bed.

The gang bought a few gifts for him to wish for a speedy recovery, but you didn't even allow him to touch them yet!! What do you mean a dancing cactus won't help him get better :((

You stroke his hair, running your fingers through his untidy hair. Honestly, you weren't used to seeing him without his usual perfect hair-do. Without his signature grin and outfit, he seemed like a completely different person.

"Jeez," your fingers brush against his cheek, "Please be more careful. I told you to take care of that can, not eat the whole thing..."

You turn your back to him, rummaging through bags to see where Kuki had left the medicine she bought recently.

Itto can't help but chuckle at you, taking such good care of him. He assumed you would be mad at him, but you're just worried for his well-being.

He really, really appreciates the time and effort you put into taking care of him. With how hyper he is, Itto feels like jumping out of bed and snuggling up against you - but you would definitely remind him that he needs to rest.

You really care so much for him. Just, wow.

While you reading the instructions Kuki left for you, you glance at Itto out of worry for him and realize he's staring at you. You blink once and try to focus your gaze on the sheet of paper, but the words become jumbled and incoherent.

Blinking again, you look at him with flushed cheeks. A pillow is suddenly pressed against his face for a second, "Go to sleep or something!"

That was a desperate attempt to hide how red your face probably was.

Taglist -> @under-a-starry-night, @yourfaveisblack, @bardisipatos, @callmemeelah, @kithewanderingme, @pale-value, @bamboowritess/@bamboowritess, @uchihaeirin, @karmawonders, @lunavixia, @anfre109, @ly-archives, @zuyoo, @pimacolada-lulu, @bimboing, @gallantys, @swaggyb0ke, @borbsbirbs, @shizunxie, @tiffthescales, @genshin-impacts-me, @keithsaccount, @mkaella, @mentallyunpresent, @alicehasdrowned, @franc-1-s, @no-regrets-just-confusion, @christmaspickl, @lunalily19, @vvyeislazzy

[smalltendencies]

Currently working on a TSP thing where the Narrator is an author who has drafts and scripts scattered all over his home. He works so hard and is proud of each one. They will be published one day, but he has a fear that they won't be recieved like they should.

But unknown to the Narrator, there is a borrower (Stanley or an unnamed borrower... Idk yet) who loves these stories written by the human they see only in glances. They are about scenarios and places they can only dream of. And so every night, when the bean is asleep, they go and read these before they go to sleep themselves; sometimes accidentally being so absorbed in the words they don't stop until the telltale signs the Narrator has woken up causes them to flee.

The borrower is a little shit though (like Stanley lol) and will use whatever writing utensil they have (a piece of lead, some homemade borrower pen with calligraphy ink they borrowed, ANYTHING) to annotate and mark up the pages. A paragraph about why they loved this scene. Underlining their favorite quote. Just showing that someone looks at these endless pages when they will probably not be published for years.

Of course, they don't stop there. Little bastard tendencies makes them also mark out words they hate. Little notes about how they would make the scene BETTER. Why this paragraph doesn't fit with the rest of the narrative. Anything that comes to mind.

While these papers and packets are strewn all over the house on different tables and desks, the Narrator has some uncanny ability to find them the next day. And he is so so confused as to why there is small writing (that he needs a magnifying glass to even see) pops up every night. Is there a ghost? An intruder? Who knows. But they clearly don't know good writing.

Don't get him wrong, he relishes in the happy comments. He enjoys the praise and love in the notes that give him more of an ego boost. But he LOATHES the markouts, the red ink that says he did it WRONG.

Sometimes the borrower can hear the Narrator rant through the walls.

"I don't need the validation of a person who won't tell me their absurd opinions face-to-face!"

"Don't waste my time if you don't even understand the character's motivations!"

"Maybe before writing all over my work, you should sit and think about how this description helps the readers understanding considering the protagonists choice in this moral dilemma."

"This is 'out of character'?! Clearly you have no critical thinking skills whatsoever!"

"Why are you doodling on MY art?!"

The Narrator is just ranting. He doesn't think the mysterious entity can actually hear him. As he slowly deciphers each comment (because that handwriting is chicken scratch and its so small), he will complain, rant, or thank the writer and explain why he chose to do what he did.

The borrower gets bold, and will write above their previous (now marked out) comments. Little snide comments to get under the Narrators skin just for fun. Because all of this is just to make both of their boring lives interesting. He never expected the Narrator to take in a BORROWER'S thoughts. (They have little written fights on sticky notes that last DAYS) Both of them can't wait to hear from the other.

It's not breaking the code as long as they don't get caught, right?

They do get caught. A prank laid out by the Narrator that involves some clear super glue on copied pages (that are also glued to the table Jesus Christ he committed to the bit if he was willing to hurt hardwood) with a note that says something along the lines of "If you know my work so well, why not stick around and tell me that to my face?" What was supposed to be a small inconvenience and joke for a person ends up being near life threatening for a borrower.

And the Narrator finds them the next day stuck and they are scared. More like terrified. This whole friendship they built is crumbled automatically because now the borrower is so scared and the Narrator doesn't know what to do about this whole situation.

[mamuzzy]

Okay, my temporary-brainfuckery is over, I'm kind of hyped now about the new year and can look back at 2023 with much more contentment. So I jumped on the train of doing Art Summary too :))) (template HERE)

Yeah, what the fuck did I do in the first half of the year... honestly, I don't remember. No, really, I can't remember...

My sketchbook can be dated back to 2021 with some old Touken Ranbu and merfolk sketches, but I don't remember actually opening it this year until june...

...and guys, I actually have only a few pages left to fill!!!! I kind of proud of myself. Joining into TCW fandom really did wonders with my creativity and productivity.

I'll get sappy with this probably, but the existence of this blog, a filled up sketchbook in my hand is the very proof that I exist. When bdick fucks me in the brain, I can't remember having these wonderful memories of creating but when my mind clears from the fog, I come up here, looking at my little fortress, looking at my silly doodles, I don't feel that I have to build up everything from the start, and I actually managed to create a safe-place for myself that welcomes me back when I return from those dark places. My art maybe not visually pleasing, my anatomy is shit, but they are mine and most importantly THEY EXIST.

❀ My artistic plans for the future in this blog... ❀ ❀ To continue creating: daily doodles. Not sure about uploading it daily but maybe making compilations from my sketchbook from time-to-time. I'm expecting to have a more relaxed job time-wise, also I'm on a medication now due to my migraines, maybe I won't spend half of my year sleeping just escape from the pain. ❀ Creating character bios for my OC's. ❀ Participating in events/doing challenges: The whole concept is scary for me because deadlines are stressing me out, and I'm a slow artist.

❀ One of the self-made challenge: Redraw my sketchbook from 2012-2014. I probably mentioned that I've found it some time ago and actually chickened out from uploading them because most of the sketches in them are quite... hmm... bpd related without me knowing I had bpd back then (also i don't want them to hide under cut because then what's the point of uploading???). But it would be interesting to redesign them and make a comparison post about it.

❀ be more authentic with my art: my original plan with this blog was to use art to heal myself, and while drawing funny stuff is great, I still believe I'm self-censoring myself both in art and both in personal posts just like I'm masking in real life and it's. fucking. exhausting. My mental fuckery is a part of my life, part of me.

❀ Writing short stories: TCW, TBB, RepComm, million ideas in my head.

❀ Getting started on my Deadshot story: A multichaptered longfic starting from Umbara arc (I wrote ARC again), following the canon events but will deviate at some points.

❀ Getting started on my urban fantasy Coruscant Guard Story.

I could go on but I don't want to set unrealistic and unachievable goals either. YEAR JUST STARTED AND IT'S ALMOST OVER!!!

Thank you for hanging out with me in 2023, thank you for giving me a chance with those prompt-games and requests. I love you guys.

[unclekaz]

i'll be honest, springtrap and nolan having personal journals has been very prominent on my mind, mainly just imagining how they write.

springtrap has very good calligraphy but it's slightly sloppy since he never figured out a comfortable position for his writing hand in his life, awhile nolan literally writes chicken scratch. even nolan can't read what he writes, he only knows what it says because he remembered what he wrote down awhile writing it.

but also im imagining their styles of writing. nolan is very expressive and impactful in his mind because you know. machine theory is a perspective fic- but im imagining it's surprisingly brief but also details nolan's feelings. it's essentially what he always wants to say but could never bear to speak it, i.e his inner dialogue translated into a physical form

springtrap? it's his diary. it's full of solid looking doodles, the occasional sketch of nolan, and probably a LOT of mentally ill and likely very bad poetry. he absolutely hides it somewhere because of just how insanely obsessed he is in love with his husband, venting his feelings but also expressing is love in one center place. he'd love tumblr

press see more for two prompts each that are supposed to be excerpts from springtrap's and nolan's personal journals, you'll uh. you'll understand who's who.

'He's impossible to deal with some days. I cannot help but fret and worry over his conditions, but all he does is give me that warm smile. Well... At least I can always be there for him. It still distresses me to see him so thin. To think he's capable of so much while nearly being skin wrapped over bone is horrific. He seems to like my cooking, so maybe everything will be okay after all.'

'Come and see, please, indentured shall be thee to save my lover's soul. For he cannot bear the champion's curse any longer! Come, bitter conduct. Come, unsavory guide! Save the soul of my eternally damned beloved! For they seek a treasure unpossessed, a yearning in the heart unfulfilled with viscera... Save them, oh thee! Save them!'

-|-|-;ɛ -|-|-;()|_]o}|-;-|- ()/= |_ɛ/-\\/||\|o} |-;||nn ||\| }()|nnɛ()|\|ɛ'} [/-\/~ɛ /-\|\|o| o|/~|\/||\|o} ()/=/= |} /-\ /~ɛ()[[|_]/~/~||\|o} -|-|-;()|_]o}|-;-|-. |-|- }|[|<ɛ|\|} |nnɛ -|-() ɛ\/ɛ|\| [()|\|}|o|ɛ/~ -|-|-;/-\-|-. | \/\/|}|-; | [()|_]|_o| -|-/-\|_|< -|-() |-;||nn /-\|o()|_]-|- -|-|-;|}, |o|_]-|- |-;|} ɛ-/ɛ}... |/= ()|\||_-/ |-;ɛ |<|\|ɛ\/\/ \/\/|-;/-\-|- /-\ }|[|< |0|_]|0|0-/ |-;ɛ |-;/-\o| ()|\| |-;|} |-;/-\|\|o|}...

(The thought of leaving him in someone's care and driving off is a reoccurring thought. It sickens me to even consider that. I wish I could talk to him about this, but his eyes... If only he knew what a sick puppy he had on his hands...)

|nn-/ |o()o|-/ |} }-|-/-\/~-|-||\|o} -|-() }|_()\/\/ o|()\/\/|\| -|-|-;/-\|\||<} -|-() |nn-/ |\|ɛo}|_ɛ[-|-. |'|nn [/-\|0/-\|o|_ɛ, |o|_]-|- |\|()-|- |_]|\|}-|-()|0|0/-\|o|_ɛ. -|-|-;ɛ |-;|_]|\|o}ɛ/~ |0/-\|\|o}} /-\/~ɛ o}ɛ-|--|-||\|o} \/\/()/~}ɛ, -|-|-;ɛ ||\|}()|nn|\||/-\ |} }-|-/-\/~-|-||\|o} -|-() |<ɛɛ|0 |nnɛ |_]|0 /=()/~ /-\ \/\/ɛɛ|< }-|-/~/-\|o}|-;-|-. | /'|_]}-|- [/-\|\|'-|- |oɛ/-\/~ -|-() -|-ɛ|_|_ |-;||nn... |-;ɛ'o| }-|-/-\/~-|- [/~-/||\|o} ()\/ɛ/~ |nn-/ [()|\|o||-|-|()|\| /-\|\|o| |oɛo}o}||\|o} |nnɛ -|-() -|-/-\|<ɛ [/-\/~ɛ ()/= |nn-/}ɛ|_/=. ()/~, |-;ɛ'|_|_ o|() |-|- |-;||nn}ɛ|_/=. |'o| |_()\/ɛ -|-() ɛ|\|\/|}|()|\| |-;||nn \/\/|-;|}|0ɛ/~||\|o} }\/\/ɛɛ-|- |\|()-|-|-;||\|o}} ||\|-|-() |nn-/ ɛ/-\/~} -|-() |-;ɛ|_|0 |nnɛ }|_ɛɛ|0.

(My body is starting to slow down thanks to my neglect. I'm capable, but not unstoppable. The hunger pangs are getting worse, the insomnia is starting to keep me up for a week straight. I just can't bear to tell him... He'd start crying over my condition and begging me to take care of myself. Or, he'll do it himself. I'd love to envision him whispering sweet nothings into my ears to help me sleep.)

[tristansarchive]

It's there, fallen open on the floor, and immediately her first thought is to lean down and take the journal in her hands, rushed and wishing for no blemishes to the pages; precise, she would shut and return it to the next best thing besides the unconscious body curled tightly, unmoving back facing her— a small table, decorated by a presently inactive lonely lamp, but that she knew to flicker now and then, something within it loose from a loud crash she does not make mention of.

Her steps make no sound, though her body can't help but protest the sudden drop of temperature around her with a shiver, the door behind her slightly ajar and bringing forth heat her boss's room lacks— there's something akin to unease surging from deep within her chest but her lips remain pursed, body rigid with hard-earned discipline as she moves closer, not daring a single touch.

Instead, she trusts her naked eye to wander over Jeremiah, without pause to his overall state: her attention not retained by the buttons ripped off his collar or the advancing discoloration of his skin eating at him, that he's been obsessively checking its progress and dulling his nails on the edge of his teeth. She's not surprised to find a bottle loosely cradled to his speckled chest, the veins on his forearms and fist so strikingly visible she can almost make out the poison running through, mostly what Ecco does feel is gratitude, for the smallest, hiccuped rise and fall of a hit-and-miss exhale — it's difficult to ignore the urge to be certain, but her arms stay close to her body, lesson well learned from a last time.

She's petrified in place, the cruel hand wrapped around her wrist shaking with concerning weakness, and yet Ecco's heart's hammering against her ribcage, a cry stuck at her throat because those wide, penetrating pools of ghastly blue hold no recognition or warmth for her, indenting her flesh with half moon marks as he wildly searches for something, bending the bone under his mercy, narrowing his unforgiving glare when she’s not what he wanted—

Assured he's just sleeping, her shoulders drop a centimeter.

It's back to the object at her feet then, that her focus falls to; with its thin spine, the busied leather cover parts under the weight of cheap, plastic gemstones and stickers and what looks like chicken scratch overflows from the interior, underlined footnotes spiraling in different colors by the borders, giving rest to the excessive doodling from earlier pages; a section much closer to the blanks. A part of her, reliant and a proud survivor, a voice she credits to the mother she never knew, resents its rotten messages and whispers of burning it before she’s coming back from contemplating the flame flickering from her lighter, her smoke caught in the dryness of her mouth— the devil hidden in the shadows of her boss’s labyrinth whined about missing a drag often, in his putrid little cell. Fitting.

But another. Her other.

The other Ecco wastes minutes reading, starving her lungs and alert to so much a twitch from the bed, to the lines of a man she hadn't heard much of — each snippet adds a missing stroke to his picture, or rather reunites the broken shards of a forgotten chapel’s stained glass window; he makes a vaguely compelling if pathetic sight in the eye of her mind, she can't still fathom what in him was so extraordinaire to the rest of Gotham, hardly worthy of Jeremiah’s obsessive consideration.

Jerome Valeska writes his memories as tales for crying out loud, except they carry no moral or ending, one beginning where the other ends and often they mingle as he peppers in commentary — every bit the autobiography of a lunatic, and the paper's stained and/or sticky, occasionally glued to one another; some of it’s incomprehensible, not only for the calligraphy itself but for drags of ink that hadn't dried.

"I can feel you, oh, you're so close. I know I feel you all the time. Twins know these things, yeah, and Zach couldn't have gone too far with that junkyard rescue shit of a car— like I said, snookums: won't ever stop, no, not 'til I reach you and when! I! DO! 

OH, YOU, Miah, you. will. tell. THE TRUTH why why did you LEAVE me there TO MY FUGLY FACE AND ALLLLL OF GOTHAM, HAHAHA I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE TOUCH YOU PUT A GUN BETWEEN YOUR SHINY EYES, BABY BROTHER XOXO"

Blotched, few rounds sprinkled across water down the text, some long since wrinkled the pages while others aren’t yet done warping the letters, fresh droplets that run rampant through the slashes of Jerome's pen. 

When the journal finally finds its way safely back to the table, Ecco tells herself her Other must've been too immersed in the deceased Valeska's dramatic writing— empathizing with the agony of an imagined sob she doesn't turn to, on her way out. 

She's not what he wants.

[maisy-the-trans-mouse]

if you're feeling sad today here's a chicken to cheer you up

[alex-demon-wolf]

Farm Hands

Based on doodles from @thecrowslullaby check them out, they make amazing mostly lociet work! There is some cursing!

Roman sighed as he got off the bus, bags in tow. He looked around, only seeing fields upon fields of wheat and tall grass, with the dirt road the bus went on being the only thing to separate it, "Uh.. y'know where the farm is?" Roman looked at the driver, who looked back

"Which farm? There's gotta be about a hundred round 'ere,"

"I don't know, the one ran by some short dude? The one a guy named Remus-"

"Oh. That one. Down the road for bout a mile or two, it'll be pretty clear when you get nears it," With that, the doors shut, and the bus was gone

"Wait, can't you-?!" He sighed again, and started the walk, pulling along his luggage. "Stupid Remus, and your stupid want to be in the stupid south, and live on a stupid farm, with some idiotic bee-keeper," He trudged along, feeling the heat of the noon sun beating down on him, the humidity not helping him keep the energy he had, "Could've just moved to the city with me, get all those lovely comforts, but chose stupid, stinky, feathered pests over me! You're own bro-" He tripped over a rock, a small dirt cloud puffing up from underneath him, "Motherf-"

"Ro-Bro! I'm so happy to see you!" Remus hugged his brother tightly, smiling like it was Christmas morning, "I was starting to worry when you didn't get here by lunch, but don't worry there's plenty left still!" He actually took a look at his brother, and noticed the dirt, and sweat that caked his face, fancy white shirt now looking more so brown, and sticking to him

"Why.. didn't you tell me.. it was miles away?.." He panted out as the walked to the farm house

"I thought I did, my bad.. but, there's a nice tub in the house, and I think a cold bath will help get the pep back into your step! How about I just take these to your room, and you get cleaned up?" Remus picked up the luggage, Roman just nodding, following Remus to the bathroom, which was thankfully next to where Roman would be staying

"And who are you?" Roman grabbed a slice of the pizza, looking at the man sitting across from him at the table. He was short, probably the bee-keeper, with long hair that seemed pretty thin

"Roman Kalore, Remus' twin," He took a bite of his slice, "You?"

"Janus Alister. Haven't seen you on the farm today, you just get here?" He got a slice from his own pizza, Roman cringing slightly seeing pineapples on it

"No, got here little after one. Why would, of all people, I be working on your farm?"

"You seriously think I'm going to let you just stay here, and not help around?"

"Who makes their guests work?!"

"Someone who needs more help than they can get. I'll run you through the routine tomorrow,"

Not long after, the two heard the front door open, and the smell of chicken came into the house, along with the trash rat that it was coming from, "Sorry I'm late, Jessica was being bitchy to Arnold again, then Rosemary tried to sit on Petunia's eggs, that left some blood on the floor-" He kept talking as he walked over, going on about chicken drama, then, "Also, Jan your boyfriend's here, he may be a little bloody though-" He sat down, started eatin

Roman's nose crinkled up at the stench coming from his brother, who started eating with his gross hands, "Why??" Remus shrugged a little, eating happily

In came in a man, slightly taller than the twins, some blood on his shirt, hands covered in something. He had a basket of eggs, half moon glasses looking gross, "Got the eggs.." He walked over, placing the basket on the table, "I'm taking a shower then sleeping, night to you three," Janus blew him a kiss as he left

Roman groaned as he covered his head with his pillow, Remus jumping off the top bunk, shaking him, "Wakey wakey! Eggs and- well no bakey today, but waffles!" He smiled brightly at him, going to get dressed

"What time is it?" Roman sat up, curls going every which way

"Seven thirty, I think Jan was bein forging for once!" Remus smiled at Roman, dressed in a green flannel, and some old looking blue jeans. Roman groaned, hiding his face in the pillow

"So what am I doin?" Roman looked down at the bee-keeper, half wanting to squat down to just silently point out his height, the other half knowing he'd probably get socked in the face

"You're going to be helping me around the farm," He looked up at him, "First we're going to sheer the sheep that haven't been yet, check on Remus, then collect honey from the bees, by then it'll be lunch, and we're heading to town for it so you may want to change by then,"

"I.. can't help with the bees," Roman tried to phrase it such a way that it got what he needed to say, but didn't want to across

"Why?"

Roman took a breath before saying, "Bees.. freak me out, and I doubt having someone panic will help anything,"

He thought it over, "Then you can check on the cows when I go to the bees. They shouldn't be too much trouble for you, they mostly just lay around, now let's go,"

Roman sighed, pulling feathers out of his hair, even when he got to the cows. He looked at them from the fence, their food looking full, so did their water. Some were walking, some were laying around, a fluffy brown one looked back at him, laying down as she did. "Hey Little Lady, how you doin?.." Roman smiled a little at her.

"Moo!" Is the response he got, which was about all he expected.

"Same here, today's been rough, especially with Remus," He laughed a little, looking around before hopping the fence, heading over, "I love him, but he seriously couldn't pick a better place to stay?"

"Mooooo,"

"Sorry, didn't mean any offense to your home," He sat down, leaning against her. She rested her head on him, Roman petting her a little, "You're so cute.. got it real easy too, huh?.."

"Moo?" He could've sworn he heard the question mark

"Get to just lay around, get to eat, and drink whenever.. have people take care of you.." Roman snuggled her, "While most of us have jobs we don't like, with people we hate, with barely anytime outside of it for the things that we do like, and want to do.."

"Mooo,"

"Yeah, life sucks as an adult," He looked up at the sky, "Maybe that's why Remus still acts the way he does.. Probably why he chose here over the city in all reality," He laughed a bit, remembering how he'd cursed his brother for half the walk up to this farm

The cow snuggled Roman, who shut his eyes. He snuggled her back a bit, smiling softly as he started to fall asleep

"How's it goin Bee Boy?" Janus smiled hearing that voice, looking at his friend from where he was dealing with some weeds, having extra time before lunch

"Pretty well, how about you Virgil?" The much much taller sat down with him, moving some of his black hair out of the way

"Eh, as well as someone who likes black, and hoodies can be in the middle of a southern," summer,"

"So you're more miserable than usual?" He tugged up a weed, putting it in the weed basket for now

"Yee-up," Leaned back, using his arms to hold him up, "So how had it been with the city boy?"

"He's been.. disagreeable, but helpful, though I had to send hims to 'check' on the cows since he couldn't help with the bees,"

"Lucky bastard," Virgil laughed a little, "Nessi probably enticed him into napping with her,"

"Oh most definitely, why I sent him over there instead of to the horses," Janus looked at Virgil, "Speaking of which, have you seen Logan? Haven't seen him sense yesterday,"

"He's off in town I think, hanging out with the baker probably," Janus went back to plucking the weeds, the two falling into that familiar friendly silence. Soon, they heard the bell ringing from the barn, to announce it was noon to everyone around

Roman smiled at the bustling little town, smells from all the restaurants filling his nose, but were slightly messed up with Remus walking next to him, smelling a little like chickens still, "So where are we eating?"

"There's this cheap place next to the bakery, we can grab some food there, then head over and say hey to Pat?" Remus suggested happily, Roman noticing how his smile got a little bigger at the name

"Pat?"

"He's the baker, he makes some really good stuff, gives us a discount most of the time,"

"Cause he wants to get you to fall for him," Janus casually said, Remus blushing a bit

"Shut it Jan!"

The trio got into the bakery after their meal* Remus going up to the counter immediately, and started chatting with the man behind the counter. His smile seemed even brighter than when Roman arrived, as he got a laugh out of the man. Before long, Roman had a little cake stuffed into his mouth by his brother, who was telling him about how Pat had agreed to come to some bonfire that night

Roman wiped the sweat from his brow as he kept pulling up, and cleaning off the carrots, sleeves of his flannel rolled up to his elbows. He looked up hearing footsteps, seeing Janus walking over, "Oh, hey!" He greeted, before focusing on what he was doing

"Hey there, Roman. I wanted to talk with you,"

"About?"

"Why you seem suddenly so happy to do farm work, last night made it sound like you hated even the thought of it,"

"Oh.. well, I realized something, when I was with the cows, and it got me into a better mood about all of this," He got the last carrot, and stood up with the basket, "Eighteen carrots, where do I put em now?" Looked at Janus with a soft smile

"I'll take em, you can go get a break. Though before that, what was the realization?" He took the basket, counting the carrots just to be sure

"Nothing like, earth shattering or somethin like that, just that this is what makes Remus happy, and no reason to be a Debby downer about having to work here to get to see him, and possibly make him less happy,"

"You really care huh?"

"What? Did you think I came all the way here, walked almost three miles up hill, carrying almost a hundred pound bags, in the summer, in the south, at noon, and didn't care about him?"

"Fair enough," Janus said with a simple shrug, "Just don't want him to get hurt again, you can understand that," Roman nodded, saying a goodbye to Janus before heading over to the chickens to see Remus, who currently had near ten around his feet, flannel now tied around his waist, showing hia dark grey tank-top now

"Hey Rem!" Roman greeted Remus happily looking at him

"Hey Ro-Bro, you done for the day?"

"Yeah Jan said-" Remus pointed at Roman, and the chickens started at him, causing Roman to run away. He couldn't believe he was being chased by chickens, that his brother had sicked on him!

Remus doubled over laughing, cackling like this was the funniest thing to ever happen. After Roman running around, nearly getting pecked, Remus stopped the chickens, putting them back in the coop, "S-So-" Remus was trying to stop his laughter as he shut the door to the coop, looking down at Roman, who'd fallen. He took a breath, "So, how about we head inside, get cleaned up, and start dinner for tonight?"

"Are you even allowed to cook??"

"Not alo-hone!" He sang, offering Roman his hand. Roman smiled a bit, and took it, standing up

"Hey guys!" A jolly voice said, as they got the mats set up, the fire being started by Janus. Roman looked over, to see the baker, a man shorter than the twins, circular glasses, with a buff kind of dad bod, and also had a bag of treats

"Patty!" Remus headed over, hugging him. Patton hugged him back tightly, starting to happily talk with to him. Not long later, Virgil and Logan joined them, Virgil having a guitar with him

As the sun set, and the fire was their only light in the quickly cooling area, they ended up getting closer. Patton holding Remus close as they ate their hotdogs, Janus and Logan leaning on each other, giving occasional kisses. Virgil and Roman sat close, a blanket similar to the ones the other pairs had, wrapped around them. Virgil started to play a song on his guitar, a sweet song that just emphasized the tender moment

Roman could see why Remus liked it here, especially when he looked up. The sky was as clear as crystal, stars dotting the deep rich blue, "Woah.." He leaned against the string bean of a person that is Virgil

"Mhm.." Virgil hummed, continuing to play. The fire lit all of their faces, showing that each of them were happy. Roman could get used to this, even if it did mean climbing up a hill each day to get back from town, even with the hard work, even if there were fights. Moments like this were worth every second of it

[byulsgrease]

duly noted

you've never been one to obsess about your soulmate, assuming you'll figure it out when the time is right. but seriously, what kind of nonsense has yours been writing about recently?

(eventual moonbyul / wheein x gender neutral reader, soulmate!au, trainee/idol!au, ~1.2k words)

a/n: wheein bias wrecker anon! I might've had too much fun with your req and so this is gonna be my first soulmate au 🤠 while byul and wheein don't actually appear in this part (does that make this a prologue? idk), I promise they'll make their appearance soon enough :)

cw: struggles of being a trainee (weight + food talk)

The claps from your dance instructor ring out in the mirrored studio, calling everyone to attention before they send you off for the day. Everyone stands around listening to whatever niceties they're talking about, asking the rhetorical questions of whether all of you want this, how everyone needs to work harder, etc. How many years has it been now, almost three? Evaluations went pretty well recently and you've certainly demonstrated signs of growth since you started, but debut? Who knows. Does anyone, really?

But right now it's late and you're hungry, hoping that your growling stomach isn't loud enough to pierce through the lecture. You're respectfully tuned out anyway, since it's all old news. Nothing you haven't heard before. They clap again once their spiel ends and everyone disperses. Your eyes catch Hyejin's on your way out of the studio, sharing a funny face and an eyeroll before disappearing into the herd of trainees shuffling to the lockers.

Your locker opens with a routine spin of the dial, taking care to slow down and line up the numbers properly so you're not stuck having to do it over again. The inside's pretty cute for a metallic rectangle— it's really the only space of your own besides your notebook. Pictures of your family, old school friends, and fellow trainee friends line the sides beneath a tiny string of battery-powered fairy lights. It's not much, but always a humbling reminder of why you're here.

Unzipping your bag, you take out a pair of slides and drop them on the floor while stepping out of your sneakers. There's not much else in your bag, just a change of clothes and your notebook, of course. Everyone has one. Anything inside could be drawn, written, scribbled, painted. It’s your personal creative space and no one else's, but with two conditions:

You can't write your name in it, not even your initials. Of course everyone tried to as kids against their parents commands, but letters simply sink into the page, disappearing as if they'd never been written at all.

You can only mark up one side. Pages on the right side are for you, and the left side pages fill themselves. Fill themselves with what? you asked your parents. They gave you a non-answer, saying you'd figure it out someday. Great. Only other thing they bothered to tell you was that your right-hand pages were someone's left-hand ones. So someone can see what I put here? Their confirmation sounded rather casual, which you found weird. Someone out there was watching what you put in? But you got used to it, especially since every person owns one. It's a novelty for children anyway. Mark up a page however you want, knowing that someone out in the would will see, and sit back to watch whatever randomness shows up on the left side.

Your left side pages were actually empty for quite a while, save for the occasional "UGGHHH" followed by a typical childish annoyance scrawled messily across the entirety of the page in marker. Not that notebook use was mandatory, but parents usually encouraged it because it kept their kids occupied. There wasn't much you could do about empty pages, nor did you care most of the time, but it did leave you a little jealous of other kids at school who'd sometimes open theirs and be greeted with cute watercolor paintings, mini murals, or skillfully written poetry.

For you, the notebook's served many uses. As a kid it was random doodles and poorly-drawn fantasy scenarios— escapism, perhaps. In middle school it was angsty poems and random journal entries about the random happenings of your life. For the first half of high school it became your to-do list, keeping track of school assignments. And on the rarest occasion, song lyrics. Visual art was never your medium of choice, music came more easily. But drawing staff lines for music notation in the notebook usually ended up being too tedious, so your original stuff was mostly relegated to voice memos on your phone. And now? Who knows. Trainee life may as well be a blur. Sing, dance, talk, eat if you can afford to, sleep, repeat. It's hard to find the energy to write anything most days. Whenever you feel like checking, the left side has random jottings, nearly illegible most of the time.

It wasn't until you got older that you realized that whoever read your entries on the was the same person generating content on the left. And supposedly the person you're supposed to be with for the rest of time? What kind of system is that? I'm just supposed to trust blindly? having asked your parents in exasperation after figuring it out. Again with more non-answers— it had worked for them, didn't it? There's also the obvious question of why people don't just write directly to each other, but whatever. You're still young, no need to obsess over "the one" unlike some of your classmates. If it's meant to be, it'll happen, you figure. And it obviously is, you've got a notebook with (semi-)filled left side pages. What more could you ask for?

The cacophony of clanging lockers opening and closing starts to die down as people leave. Hyejin's head pops out from behind the locker door, laughing in your face when you flinch.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, one sec. Man, I'm starving,” you remark while slipping the bag straps on your back and closing the locker door. You don't even want to know how strapped for cash you are, probably in for another night of boiled eggs and canned kimchi.

“Wanna go out for food?” she immediately asks, eyes alight at the prospect of getting to eat something besides convenience store food.

"I wish. Actually, you wish," you smirk with longing in your eyes. The "no" doesn't even have to be said, weigh-ins are way too soon to risk it. She hangs her head, jokingly dejected as you swing an arm around her shoulder to walk out of the company building together.

~~~~

After scrounging up whatever food you call dinner, taking a shower, and flopping into bed, you open up your notebook and grab the random pen laying on your dresser, unsure of what you'll write about tonight. There's chicken scratch on the left page already, ballpoint pen. It's actually legible today, though: In my room every day I see your smile.

What the hell does that mean? Whose smile, yours? You haven't even met yet.

Call me everyday every night, hug me everywhere every time

Utter nonsense. Maybe meeting soulmates is just a huge game of catch-up once everything's finally revealed, surely yours will be. There’s just so many questions. Moving to the right side, you jot down a list of cheat meal ideas along with some assorted notes and pointers from practice that you want to work on tomorrow, drawing little characters next to each list item for fun. After accidentally drawing a random squiggle from jolting yourself awake and feeling the heaviness in your eyelids, you cap your pen and shut your notebook, placing it back in your bag. With the lights out, the last thought you have before sleep consumes you is why haven't you ever tried writing directly to each other after all this time?

[next]

[cowboymirio]

Okay, because I can't stop thinking about this after the "They want a pet" one: the cockatoo's name is "Mini Mic", the bunnies names are either "Miruko and Rumi" because Hawks thinks he's funny, or "Chicken and Wing" because, again, he thinks he funny. If Bakugou had a pet, it would either be a big dog that was just a baby and super sensitive (has to be carried, biggest puppy-dog eyes if yelled at) or acts like his s/o or a small dog that acts just like him (absolutely rabid and spoiled).

A/N: YEYSYS I love all of these omg!! Especially the chicken and wing part that got me

Also- here’s the thing-- I'm not the biggest Bakugo fan but this,,, THIS!! sparked something in me so in return you may have some bakudog headcanons!! I gave him a golden doodle because I know firsthand how much of a big BABY they can be.

Katsuki Bakugo - Golden Doodle

💥 You agreed to get a dog with Bakugo on one condition... They had to be from the animal shelter

💥 A totally understandable condition so he obliged, the shelter always had cute doggies anyway so,,,

💥 You guys walk in, hand in hand, and stumble upon the cutest looking doodle you’ve ever seen in your entire life

💥 You start fawning over them in their kennel and cackling laughing over how the dogs fur is the same color as your boyfriend’s hair (which he doesn’t take too kindly to)

💥 To your surprise though, the doodle (yes, I’m calling them the doodle the entire time fight me) ducks their head and sinks further into their kennel and you’re not having any of it

💥 ‘We’re getting this one.’ ‘Are we though??’ ‘yES??’

💥 So anyway... you got the dog 

💥 And by got, I mean Bakugo had to carry them out of their kennel and into y’alls car ‘cause he was too spooked to leave

💥 Poor bby ;;

💥 When you get home you both give them some space and just watch them timidly sniff around the place (that rhymed) 

💥 At one point Bakugo raised his arms up to stretch and yawn (like those really loud dad yawns) and the doodle fucking DOVE under the couch

💥 ‘bABE WHY WOULD YOU-’ ‘HOW THE HELL WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THEY’D RUN’ ‘they’re SENSITIVE Bakugo’ 

💥 aHEM, anyways...

💥 day by day, the doodle gets more and more acquainted with you two... especially Bakugo 

💥 They’re pretty much attached to his side while he walks around the house, when he’s in the bathroom, they sit right in front of the door with a sad lil look on their face </3 

💥 They’re so spoiled and they don’t even know it oh my god

💥 All they have to do to get a piece of whatever Bakugo’s cooking is bust out those deep brown puppy eyes, maybe throw in a big paw on arm to get his attention and it’s over

💥 They won’t get on the bed themselves, Bakugo has to pick them up HIMSELF and plop them at the bottom

💥 But that doesn’t last long because they love to sleep between the two of you, forget spooning ever again

💥 He will NEVER admit it but he’s wrapped around their finger(?? Paw??) like you can tease him all you want but he’s just gonna deny deny deny

💥 This clip radiates so much bakugo energy and you can’t tell me otherwise

 Anyways- Thank you for this I totally didn’t expect to have sm fun writing this ong

[rjshepherd]

So I am stresso and depressonand decided that drawing some of my little among us characters.might cheer me up. This took fucking hours BC those little bean people are much harder to draw than I gave them credit for. I can't get the proportions or angles right but I guess these look OK for a first attempt.

Anyway coffee (pink crewmate) is tired as fuck and can definitely sleep through an emergency meeting. He's been reported as a dead body several times but really he just sleeps weird places. If you follow my irlstuff tag you might have seen him in plush form having his damaged flower removed.

Tea (yellow crewmate) is a bit of a conspiracy theorist. Thinks everyone is sus as fuck and much like me, gets paranoid as fuck when tired.

Green nameless body hasn't been killed by an imposter, more like a malfunctioning garbage disposal.

Coco (jumbo sized black crewmate) is the only person on this crew with more than one Braincell. He's just vibing with what he hopes is ice-cream.

New orange cremate, Ant (short for anthill . he named himself BC he thinks bugs are cool) is an alien imposter. He is comedically bad at his job and has been threatened with firing by his superiors many times. He's decided to give up the imposter murder life and help the crew. He's absolutely terrible at that too but at least the other crew won't kill him for clogging a toilet. He likes to eat chicken bones and sleeps in vents a lot (because they remind him of anthill networks)

Also that's not blood, he just went dumpster diving for chicken bones and they had tandoori for dinner.

I think I'd like to doodle more of these dudes.

Maybe tomorrow.

[jacscorner]

Fox McCloud of Kongo Bongo Part 1

Hello, beautiful friends. I'm simul-posting this silly fanfic idea I had for a while now. Cause Fox McCloud X Tiny Kong content doesn't exist except for the content I made myself, so I'm making a fic dedicated to my silly Sword & Planet doodle I did some months back.

With all that said, I hope you all enjoy, and sorry for any spelling and grammar faults. I'll fix them after the post if someone points 'em out to me, but this fic is being written by the seat of my pants and pretty casually.

The Lylat System was quiet. It had been a short year since the return of Andross when Fox McCloud and the Star Fox team had stopped Andross from destroying Corneria and taking over the system. Fox McCloud, leader of Team Star Fox, was piloting his Arwing past Sector X. The strange nebula was once the secret base for Andross and his operations during the First Lylat War, but now the odd cosmic cloud in the shape of a cross was just a quiet landmark through the system. At least, so it should.

[This is Pepper. Come in, Fox.]

Fox gave a tired grunt, losing his concentration and focus as he reached for the communicator strapped to his head and flipped it on. "You're clear, Peppy."

[Are ya seein' anything there, Fox?]

"That's a negative." Fox said as he checked his instruments again. "I'm still getting those weird readings that Slippy picked up, but I'm not seeing anything."

[Ya shoulda waited at the Great Fox like I told ya, Fox.]

Fox gave a roll of his eyes as he said, "Peppy, stop worrying so much." After the return of Andross every low life of the system seemed to go into hiding. True peace was still out of reach, and there was always work for the members of Team Star Fox, but finding any big named criminals who tried to fill the same niche Andross were hard to come by. In a way, Fox didn't like this; as a mercenary, he lived to fight. Was it wrong to think that way? Most certainly; peace in the Lylat System, where no little kid lost their father like he did, was the ultimate goal. But he needed food on the table like anyone else did.

[Wolf O'Donnell is still at large, Fox. He could be setting up a trap for ya.]

Cap'n Wolf O'Donnel, the name rang in Fox's ear. He could still see the burning, red scar on that wolf's face, the yellow of his eyes burning into his own. Out of all the mercenaries Andross hired to take him and Miyu out, Wolf was probably the best. His equal in almost every way and nearly sent him to his doom. It was the most intense fight Fox had ever been in; for the first time in his life, Fox truly feared that he was gonna die.

And yet, ever since then, there's been a hole in his chest that he couldn't quiet fill.

"If Wolf's out there, then I'll be ready for him."

[Fox, you're-]

"End transmission." Fox didn't wait for a reply, turning off his head piece. He wasn't in the mood to keep listening to Peppy badger him over this; besides, if Wolf was out here, then he would've shown his face by now, right? There wasn't anywhere to hide in Sector X, it wasn't anything by burning gas and bright light.

"One more pass around." Fox told himself, initiating another scan. If nothing was here, then he should turn back and head back for the Great Fox. At least, that's what he should do, but he was in no real rush to make it back to Peppy and listen to him nag his ear off. He cruised around Sector X thinking about how he'd rather go to Titania. There's a nice little saloon there, perfect place to refuel his Arwing and drink his problems away. Just the thought of Titania ale was tempting Fox to ditch his mission. It was weird; he wasn't much of a drinker before, by after the first Lylat War, he grew a taste for alcohol.

Suddenly, Fox jerked the controls on his Arwing, suddenly him into a dive just in time to avoid a photon shot. His instincts kicked in just in time, but where the hell did that come from?! He looked on his radar, seeing nothing, but then looked to see an incoming transmission message. He didn't even patch it through or have the chance to reject the message when a scarred face appeared on screen.

"Hello, pup."

"Wolf!" Fox growled as he glanced up, seeing the lone, quad-wing ship cut through the unforgiving void as he rocketed right for the vulpine pilot. Fox bared his fangs, starting to charge right for Wolf like a demented game of chicken. "I knew you were skulking about these parts!"

"And I knew you'd come with the right bait." Wolf chuckled, his shields deflecting Fox's photon shots as he fired back with his own. "And now it's time I pay back the debt I racked up back on Macbeth."

With some expert barrel rolls, Fox was able to deflect Wolf's own shots, the two ships crossing the other's paths.

"Not to mention I'm paying you back for killing the rest of my team." Wolf snarled, spinning his ship around and beginning to chase Fox through space. His ship let out rapid volleys of hot orange shots on Fox's tail, but Fox managed to evade each shot. Fox could feel Wolf gritting his teeth as he managed to evade each shot. It was like Fox had eyes on the back of his head and Wolf couldn't get a clean shot!

[Fox, come in! Fox! Fox, answer me!]

Meanwhile, Fox couldn't shake Wolf from his tail; it was like Wolf was glued on! He tried to perform a somersault, but Wolf was right behind him, gunning for his engines. He felt his air form a lump in his throat; Wolf was giving him no chance to breath or get any space to counter attack.

"Get back here, brat!" Wolf called out, but Fox was too focused to be distracted or baited by the bounty hunter.

[H-hey! F-Fox, can you hear-ribbit?!]

"Want me?! Come and get me!" Fox called back at Wolf. With a well-timed barrel role, he deflected Wolf's volley of shots and slammed the breaks. Wolf flew right past him and was reading right for the burning mass that was Sector X before Fox chased Wolf down. Now that the tables had turned, Fox was going for the kill, charging up a photon shot that he aimed right for Wolf's engine, prepared to finish off his rival once and for-

[HEY GENIUS! WHAT ARE YA DOIN'?! GET OUTTA THERE!]

Falco's shrieking in Fox's ear piece made him release his shot just before the charge was done, nailing Wolf right in the back of his ship, just missing his engine. Wolf started to climb up and get away, but Fox was more focused on the ringing in his ear. It felt like a siren was blaring with how loud it was.

"...Wait, that's not my ear." Fox flinched as he looked at his were going crazy! Before he could decipher what was happening, a sudden, brighter light came from Sector X. In the center of the nebula's glowing cross appeared,a void of purple light that began to swell and open up.

"A Worm Hole!" Fox realized it too late! He tried to pull away, but this Worm Hole was sucking him in! His controls were starting to lock up; try as Fox might, but he couldn't escape the gravity field the Worm Hole was projecting! It was like a hand had grabbed his ship and started to pull him in by force!

"What is this?! I can't get away!" Wolf shouted, doing no better as his ship was being lured right into the vortex as well.

Fox couldn't think; Wolf's screaming and the Arwing blaring were growing more and more distant as they fell closer to the Worm Hole. His life was starting to flash before his eyes; Fox thought that fear would grip his heart, yet he was oddly calm. Life, death; they didn't seem to matter anymore. Or, rather, Fox felt ready to embrace his fate. Day to day life felt more and more like a chore for the mercenary. And while he didn't rush towards death, he wasn't against letting it come to him. As the light began to fade and sound turn to nothingness, Fox felt ready to embrace death like a bride.

And then, nothingness.

This wasn't the first time Fox had entered a Warp Zone, but this was different from the last time.

The last time, back in the first Lylat War, was a constant bombardment of light and sound. Blues and pinks, odd sounds that made Fox think of some odd, old-school music. It was dizzying back then, yet it felt oddly natural. As if nothing was weird at all; or maybe the odd Warp Zone was manipulating him though the protective hull of his Arwing, making him feel relaxed when any sign man would be panicking and screaming, crashing their ship to any and every piece of debris in the void in a misguided attempt to confirm if what they were being subjected to was real or just a dream they couldn't wake up from.

It wasn't like that this time at all; in fact, it was the exact opposite. Fox couldn't see anything, it was all dark. It wasn't black as night or even dark like space. There was no source of any light, not even from his Arwing. He couldn't see his own hand even if it was trembling in front of his own face. He couldn't hear anything either; not Wolf's screaming, not that he could tell if he was or not, not the alarms his Arwing should've been giving off, not even the sound of his own heart.

He couldn't feel anything either. Not the taste of his own spit, not the seat he was sure he was still sitting in, nor the controls his hands wouldn't let go of with his vice-like grip. Fox felt as though he was cramped inside of his cockpit, yet weightless, and his sad attempt to anchor himself in place was useless. Was this what death was like or was this just the odd void he was trapped in.

How long would he be here? Would he die here? Could he die here? And just how long has he been here? At first, he thought it was just five minutes, but at the same time, he felt that he had been floating here for five hours. It was getting so bad that Fox couldn't tell if he was even still in the cockpit. Was he awake? Thinking in his sleep? Were his eyes even open?

CRASH!

Suddenly, all of his senses hit him like a hammer upside the head. A low groan escaped Fox's muzzle; he wanted to feel something, but now it was pain. His body felt sore and stiff; it felt like he had slept all day and hadn't moved a muscle, but somehow worse. Like he was stuck in his cockpit for weeks. His eyes slowly peeled open with a groan as a setting sun's light pierced his retinas like a hot laser.

With a grimace, the fox blindly reached across the console to open the hatch to his cockpit. His ears twitched anxiously with the lack of any cockpit opening sounds. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he tried to press the button again, but noticed how it felt through his leather glove.

Cold.

His console felt ice cold. The Arwing wasn't running. Fox tried to fire it up, but he didn't even catch the sputter of the engine.

"Great. My Arwing's dead..." Fox grunted as he adjusted his seat. With a hard kick of his metallic leg, Fox kicked the glass shielding off of his Arwing before he dragged himself out. Popping his neck and shoulders, Fox looked around. He was on some kind of beach, but this didn't look like any beach he knew. The sand was black as night and gave a beautiful, if not ominous, shine under the setting, red sun. He looked ahead of him, seeing crimson waves push and as high tide began to set in. Behind him, a massive jungle, but there were smoke stacks poking from the tree line. Black clouds of smog began were pouring into the air, obscuring Fox's view from looking beyond the trees.

"Where in Lylat am I...?" Fox mumbled, but he questioned if he was really still in the Lylat System at this point. He reached for his head piece and began to speak. "Fox to the Great Fox, do you hear me guys?" He was met with a chorus of static in his ears. "Great, my Arwing's dead and now I can't even call for help." Just as Fox thought things couldn't get worse, he heard something.

Marching?

Fox pulled out his blaster, turning behind him and preparing to fire a warning shot, but was promptly met with a pair of larger guns pointing at his face. They looked crude and rudimentary as opposed to his own blaster, but they were not only much bigger, but there were five crocodiles pointing what looked like brass-and-steel blunderbusses at Fox's head, florescent tubes sticking out of the sides of their guns.

"Don't even think about it, furball." The croc snarled, his body bulging with muscles covered by mostly green scales. "Drop your blaster and come quietly or your hide will make a nice rug."

"Oh damn..."

[dreamdilddy]

favorite moments this grump stream aka the Steam Trainwreck™ stream

me literally missing the first few minutes because I was in the wrong stream

getting to the RIGHT stream and seeing that they didn’t have the chapters downloaded for king’s quest so I didn’t miss anything anyway 👉😎👉

this whole instagram live situation while they wait for the game to download 

DogFilter!Dan

“Did you know how sexy you were going?”

“YEET...that’s what the kids are saying.”

“Are You ready for some extreme vore?”

whatever this was

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOTHERFUCKE- can we curse on this stream?”

“MOTHER BRING ME MY CELEBRETORY DIAPER...it’s time for the stream.”

them having to go into their settings like 5 minutes into the stream to turn off the friend requests lmfaO

them singing happy brithday to Hannah so passionately and her just being like "so you're gonna wanna go into preferences and turn them off in there"

"she looks like a Steve"

"until the sacred silence of the BIG sleep"

(grandpa voice) "did you know when you die you poop your pants? get my death diaper"

"ooooh, so I just needed some Thicc Boii Juice™."

"we just drank each other's thicc boii juice"

"they're so small, why can't I just break their necks?"

"Oh, they killed themselves." "Cool!"

"oh wow, is this like a thicc boii juice cave?"

"we might be playing the ultimate game, Russian Roulette, where we hunt the ultimate game: maaaan."

"aw he's cute! crush him. and take the meat."

"if they die its on you, not me" "way to absolve yourself completely of responsibility" "well that's how I got away with murder" "...what?"

"score one for fuck you!"

Dan referring to Ross as "dog" unironically...more than once .

the majesticles

Ross and Dan sharing their sweet little moment

"where do we get more meat?" "put up a Craigslist ad for more thicc boii juice"

"if wearing dumb hats made you a good cook, I would have been one a long time ago"

"won't that mean people will die?" "people die everyday, Ross."

"are you going to super mega drunk drawing love?" "I will be there to give them a cease and desist letter for stealing doodle doods. hope you guys will be there to watch me sue them there live on stage"

"just reminding me that the dragon's there and waiting to give me a little kiss"

(voice cracking) "crank that Soulja boy"

"it's like the...big bang bazinga bing bong"

"okay...knob-" "don't call me that."

"Hey ross...time to crank that Soulja Boy"

"alright well he's dead. steal his potted plant"

"I'm gonna yeet my meat"

(exasperated sigh, quietly) "goddammit, Ross." "DON'T SAY THAT"

"I swear to god if Mr. Fancycakes dies in vein I'm going to go...apeshit."

"into the mic, hannah." (gets really close) "can we even finish this after Ross killed everybody?"

"I wanna be sucking on those tendies"

"someone asked me via Instagram if someone who raises chickens is a real life chicken tender"

"if it's only half a chicken tender does that make it a strip tease?"

a nice cheeky restart

SPEEDRUN

"who was the one who was a furry for bowser?" "doesn't that technically make you a scaley?" "a scaley?"

"okaywe'regonnaplaythegamewe'renotgonnatalkaboutfurries!"

"but the happiness you give me is priceless <3...also Ross get your shit together."

everyone yelling because Ross went to bed by accident instead of trying to save the people lmfaO

"are you sure you want to- (save the goat over the two people?)"

"spoiler everyone. miss bramble is pregnant...so obviously we're gonna save the goat." (this KILLED me)

"it's okay, their bodies will provide a lot of meat for the goat"

"we'll be back when the goat is thriving and that woman is digesting her unborn baby for sustenance"

"all aboard the Steam Trainwreck"

[lilbit-of-kizzy]

⚠️ Warning ⚠️ this is gross af

(no I'm not kidding you've been warned lol, I just had to share in case anyone wonders why I've been hit and miss on here lately, or in case this can tip anyone else off about what can happen)

*holds up the tissue I just blew my nose in* Yup that's a noodle....I bet you're wondering how I got in this situation. Well, let me tell you my tale of woe...

It all started with the pollen wave, it knocked out just about everyone but me especially. I got a sinus infection so bad it threw off my equilibrium to the point of severe nausea. Upon realizing it WAS a sinus infection I was hastily put on antibiotics and prednisone.

Being on antibiotics means a trip to the store for yogurt (any other vagina havers out there will understand why) and yogurt means cereal to go in it cause I'm weird that way.

My cereal of choice is Cinnamon Toast Crunch, which would be fine except I'm technically allergic to cinnamon. But I've had my food allergy symptoms under control for a long time so I don't even think about it anymore.

So finally I'm mostly better, though still tapering off the prednisone (a drug you shouldn't cold turkey for fear of rebound symptoms) annnnd I manage to find the only hole in the yard and twist my ankle. So I stay on the prednisone a little longer to help with the swelling that caused. And I decide as a little treat for myself I'll buy another box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch to snack on.

So prednisone done and ankle on the mend I decide to finish off said cereal as my night time meal, I don't quite do that and we have to get up early for a grand opening celebration the next day so perfect! I have cereal once again for breakfast....and guess what's at the grand opening? Snicker doodles!!! I never get to have snicker doodles anymore! (I think y'all can see my failures)

So I come home to go back to bed and...well my tummy hurts a little. "Weird my tummy never hurts, well I can sleep it off" I think to myself. So I get up....and yeah I'm a little nauseated, but it's probably because I'm hungry and that time of month probably has my iron tanked! I'll fix something rich in protein! Some Teriyaki chicken and noodles! (Failure numero dos....I am also allergic to ginger....and wheat....)

Now for a few precious minutes I'm feeling great! Yup just hungry......annnnd then suddenly very very nauseated, I go lay down and beg my mom to tell me I'm not sick, I can't be sick AGAIN

She says she's afraid the prednisone has completely reset all the hard work I put into getting my allergies in check (this indeed turns out to be the case) and I'm probably just gonna have to be careful for a few weeks

So I take some Tums and some Nexium and try to get some sleep....doesn't happen and the nausea takes it's natural course....and ofc nothing has digested because your stomach just doesn't do that when it's that upset.....

So yeah

I've been blowing noodles out of my nose since last night....

Kill me 🙃