#<- he’s a pig skinner

[thecosmicsailor]

Doodle page of my Shadows over Loathing characters because they’re silly :)

[glafifo]

[recallback-art]

Did a second run of Shadows over Loathing because I wanted to do an evil run. I had far too much fun with this guy and I am perhaps even more attached to him than Cecil because sometimes you need a guy who loves being fucked up.

He's not even evil, really, because that would imply he cares about what he's doing.

Bonus picture that's a vital contribution to their dynamic:

[quokkaholic]

Confession and Cuffs s.c

Warnings/tags: suggestive fluff, cop hate lol, cussing duh, y/n aggressively flirty low key would be harassment irl. Lightly edited

Synopsis: You are a notorious criminal that is very familiar with your local police force. Detained on a faulty warrant and interrogated for hours, you give them nothing but sass and harsh criticism. That is, until you meet Detective Seo.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

You remain in the same sterile interrogation room you have been in for hours, stainless steel chair bruising your tailbone and digging into your spine. With an adjustable lamp clamped to the edge of the table turned off, the lighting is dim but you can still see the reflective surface of the one way glass opposite you. Even though you are alone, and have been for a while, there is no mistaking the feeling of eyes on you monitoring and examining your every move, every breath, every blink. You feel like it has been at least an hour since the last officer was in here with you demanding a confession to a crime you, for once, didn’t commit; even if you had, you’d never spill your guts to them. The only reason you are here now, is they arrested you under the guise of a warrant out for not paying a speeding ticket you received years ago as a teen. You know for a fact you paid it and got it expunged from your record, but it was so long ago you no longer have proof of the transaction. On top of that, it's a Friday night so the records department won’t be up and running again until Monday. These pigs orchestrated the whole thing to get you in their custody, and you aren’t even the perpetrator in this case.

Since your arrest, it has been a revolving door of officers trying different tactics on you. They’ve made offers of food and lenient sentencing. Tried to coerce you to sell out your compatriots. The last guy practically just screamed at you for half an hour, voice screeching and droplets of spit flying from his red hot face, trying to scare out a confession, but all you could do was laugh. He must be new, you thought, despite being a criminal, you have gotten to know and are on decent terms with a lot of the more reasonable officers. After having to release you on the grounds of no evidence countless times, many of them have accepted that your actions tend to only harm other members of the seedy underbelly of the city.

That is the case for most of the force, but obviously not the next officer that walks in. You can tell by his demeanor that he is going for bad cop as he saunters in with an expression of disgust and accusation when he looks your way. He avoids eye contact, maybe because he wants you to feel lowly and beneath him, but it's more likely he knows you will see through his ruse if he lets you meet his gaze.

“We know it was you” he spits flipping through a folder labeled evidence that is without a doubt filled with blank pages. While you usually give ambiguous answers or simply remain silent, you’re over messing with the investigators at this point,

“Hmmm no you dont” you hum out matter of factly

“Quiet! We’ve got you this time,” he must be really committed to the bit, raising his voice and ordering you around.

“Really? What dirt do you have on me? Go on. I wanna see.”

“It's in the evidence storage for the night,”

“You don’t have photos in that conveniently marked folder you've got? If I’ve told you dipshits once, I've told you 100 times,” you pause to squint at the name badge on his chest,

“Skinner, I’m not your guy” shouting back to get the attention of the people that are without a doubt recording, before leaning back in the chair that feels like a bed of nails at this point. Not allowing your discomfort to show, you continue,

“You're a bad liar, Skinner. If you had something real I'd have been arrested for a real charge and not some backhanded bureaucratic nonsense. I’m done talking” your statement punctuated by the crossing of your arms over your chest. The goose bumps on your skin are impossible to ignore; it's a damn icebox in here, another tactic to get you to admit to this crime you played no part in. Despite your refusal to engage, he went on accusing you and shouting garbage before stomping out like a frustrated child.

A while later, you are beginning to doze off with your head resting on the frozen table, but the sound of the locks being opened shakes you from your drowsiness. In walks a hunk not in the typical uniform. He’s got on a white button up that hugs his thick arms so perfectly accentuating his toned form and a black vest over it and pressed black dress pants with a key ring and badge clipped to the belt. You turn to the mirror and attempt the make eye contact with the people on the other side before blurting out,

“Oh so we’re doing sexy cop now? That's new,” before looking back at the man entering the room. He puckers his lips and presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek trying to fight back a smirk while dropping his file on the table across from you.

“I’m Detective Seo. I’ve been assigned to this case, and I just wanted to ask you a few questions” He says with confidence but politely as he pulls out the chair opposite to you and takes a seat.

“You and every other pig in this pen.” You say coldly before allowing your grimace to shift into a cheeky grin, “Don’t worry, I can kid around with them. We’re all close; I practically know them all by name” feigning sincerity in your tone.

“I bet you do” he lets the words slowly fall from his mouth as he mocks you for your seemingly endless unofficial record, opening the thick folder,

“I’ve checked out your file”

“Oooh a fan I assume?” you question, heightening your tone to speak more sweetly staring up at him through your lashes. He looms over you flicking on the table lamp. If he wasn’t so jaw droppingly handsome, you'd be irked by his attempt at asserting dominance over you. You like the look of him above you, but it ends all too soon as he pulls out the chair on the other side of the table and gracefully and controlled lowers himself into the seat drawing your gaze to his muscles straining against the fabric of his button down.

“You could say that,” he mumbles seemingly unimpassioned. His eyes skimming the papers in his hands,

“I can’t lie, I’m impressed. Life long career criminal and not a single conviction”

“I don’t know what this criminal nonsense you speak of is, but you're damn right, my record is as clean as a whistle. Well, I guess until today,” you aren’t trying to maintain an ere of innocence. Everyone here knows what you do for work, and you aren’t oblivious to that, but you’ll be dead before they get audio of some half ass admittance of guilt they can spin and manipulate to finally take you to court.

“We both know this charge is bullshit, and you’ll be set loose on Monday,” he nonchalantly muses and he peers over the top of the papers at you. His warm eyes would be mezmerizing in any other circumstance, but you have to remain sharp.

“You sound sad, babe. We’ll work hard to make the most of the time we have together,” you tease. Leaning forward to rest onto his elbows,

“I know I will,” he assures you then asks,

“So why did you do it?” he asks. You give an exaggerated disappointed huff before answering,

“So so handsome, but unfortunately just as dense as your mates,” clicking your tongue before continuing,

“Just as I told your last goon, and the one before that, and the one before that, and I’ll say it again just for you, babe, I. Didn’t. Do. It.” Holding unblinking eye contact you lean forward closing the distance between you, your voice becomes a cooing whisper as you go on,

“I don’t know how else to put it, love. Why can’t you understand me?” drawing up your eyebrows and slowly shaking your head to convey distress continuing to draw closer to him.

“My name is Detective Seo,” He mutters trying to correct you as he seems to struggle to keep his eyes from drinking in your approaching features.

“Oh I know, baby” whispering for only him to hear.

He has remained strong, not letting your seductress intimidation technique win out over his macho demeanor, but as you near only a foot of nose to nose separation he pushes back not only his upper body but his whole chair from the table causing a smug smile to spread across your features. His slight fluster is impossible to hide due to the pink rising to his cheeks and his lack of grace as he gathers his documents before heading to the door. Soon the feeling of watching eyes fall back over you, and you hope so deeply that they are his.

Despite the painful furniture and frigid temperature the only thing on your mind is Seo. He’s there when you’re awake being grilled by other cops or just staring at the damn wall, and when you get brief moments to rest, he's in your dreams.

You’ve long lost track of time in the windowless room, another way they are trying to disorient you to let your guard down. With some sweet talking, you convince them to allow you to use a private bathroom as opposed to the grimey stalls that the other detainees use. While you are lucky to be affording this luxury, you have ulterior motives. As your escort guides you through the hall passing cubicle after cubicle, you get a glimpse out the window. The light is dim and dusky; it must already be Saturday evening. Your romantic daydreams have done wonders for making time fly by. After a few turns down corridors, you see what you’ve been looking for, not the bathroom, a rich wooden door with a window covered neatly by a curtain, and just to the right a gleaming placard. Detective Seo Changbin. Such a pretty name for such a pretty man. You commit the path to his office to memory for potential future use.

They graciously let you rest for just a bit longer before starting up the interrogations again. Without fail you continue your typical slough of jesting and snarky comments without revealing any semblence of guilt, but unlike usual, there are some requests for the handsome detective sprinkled in. This continues late into the night and you can assume early into Sunday morning.

During a particularly kind session of questions, more like pleading on their part, you had just had a scrumptious meal hand delivered by your favorite officer; you are feeling generous. After some careful deliberation, you decide to throw them a bone but only on your terms.

“Bailey, you know me. You know I work alone and what little evidence you have points to a group of at least two. The fact that you guys won’t drop this line of questioning after hours of getting nowhere is making me question your sanity, lady,” you chide with a mouth full of food.

“I feel bad for you, hon. So bad, in fact, that I want to help you guys. I’ll share…” her face lights up as if what you're about to say will free her from this never ending game.

“But only to Seo” and her giddy face shifts to one of despair before one of determination as she rushes out the door pulling out her phone from her back pocket as the door slams behind her. Not an hour later, the man of your dreams is pushing open the thick door. Equally as confident as last time, but he has ditched the tough guy demeanour for a more flirtatious one to match your own.

“I heard you were begging for me all night” he humors with the corner of his full lips pulling up into a sly smile.

“Oh baby that wasn’t begging, that was negotiating, but I'll beg if that's what you want.”

He moves close, foregoing the chair and sitting on the edge of the table forcing you to tilt your head back to keep the steamy eye contact that makes a heat rise in your stomach. He sends you a wink and opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off,

“Getting you here is only part of my request. I'll help you, but in exchange, I demand a date with you once I’m released”, his sultry look quickly shifts to a genuine smile and red cheeks as he breathily chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief,

“Before you go on about it being unprofessional, this is all just a big misunderstanding on record, babe. Remember, there was simply a glitch in the system that put out a warrant for my arrest. I am perfectly innocent. Actually, this is a massive mistake on your part and a major inconvenience to me. It truly is the least you could do”

“Oh really? I don't think innocent is the right word,” he leans down a bit, eyebrows raising knowingly.

“How about blameless? I'm just a blameless woman held hostage by a mismanaged police force, the least you could do is take me to dinner.” jokingly sticking out your lower lip to pout. He gives his best attempt at a disappointed sigh, but no matter how many times he attempts to release his tensing cheek muscles, they keep returning to a full smile.

“Fine, now who was it?”

“You think I’m that easy, Changbin?” pulling back clutching your imaginary pearls with one hand in faux shock,

“I'm not doing your job for you, plus I can't be on record selling out a coworker can I? Now, you promise me to take me out Monday after we clear up this silly clerical mistake, and I'll tell you where to look, you just have to trust me, yeah?” Caused by the name drop and your outlandish proposal, the shocked look on his face is genuine unlike yours.

“Trust you!?” he chokes out the question, but you just look back expectantly waiting on his response.

“I promise, y/n, to take you on a date this Monday” This the first time hes had a serious look in his face since he walked in.

“No take backs detective Seo” you warn. His flush brightens hearing you say his title for the first time after only calling him pet names.

“The old storage units on the west side of town”

“The owner? No way Mrs Lee had anything..”

“Let me finish!” you yelp, holding hand up to stop him.

“The owner of unit 87. Me and Mrs. Lee are actually members of the same book club, and I have it on good authority that the owner of that unit hasn’t paid his dues in three months”

“So he's the…” you once again interrupt him trying to jump to conclusions.

“No! I said I'm not doing this for you! However, your cute looks and eagerness make me want to help you extra. His kid has some unsavory affiliations, and they have been using said unit to store some… things. I'm not saying it's them, but what I am saying is the stuff you find there will lead you guys to the perp as long as one of you has even the barest minimum of reasoning skills. I know that can be few and far between in this line of work.” You just had to slip in that last jab, “Now, there's your in. You're welcome in advance, baby” He is a whirlwind running out the door, but before it shuts he shouts back to you

“See you tomorrow!”

They keep you in custody for the majority of Sunday, but no one enters to question you further. Only a few familiar officers pop in to chat or share a meal as you're finally able to drop the smug persona since Changbin is hard at work clearing your name. He returns to finally have a normal conversation with you and iron out the details of your date before your release. While it is policy to keep suspects cuffed on your way out the door, they usually never do, but Changbin insists. Both enjoying it a bit too much as he locks your wrists together before guiding you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. You stop before the main entrance of the station for him to remove your restraints. While your conversations have been respectful and polite ever since you gave the crucial information in solving the case, his smirk resurfaces as he twists the key.

“If you behave for me, maybe I’ll bring these tomorrow night.”

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

A.n- I can’t be anti authoritarian; one of my best friends is a cop! Thanks for reading! I felt particularly delulu writing this one. Wanted to name this ‘If you’re bad cop, and I’m good cop, who is sexy cop?’. Also, what the hell else do you call a smirk? Lots of smirking in this one. I can only alternate bt smile, smirk, and grin so much before I start feeling silly

-mo (acab)

Masterlist

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 6: New Possibilities

Prompt: I'm not giving up

(Sequel to Day 3, Getting It Right) Mulder - still not jealous - discovers Scully's date has sent her flowers. What does that mean? Rating: T, wc: 1,229

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

The bouquet of flowers is on their desk Monday morning, sitting there as if it belongs. Mulder stares at it, looking around, wondering if anyone is playing a prank. Nothing happens. He pockets his key and observes the assortment of fresh roses. With careful precision, he fishes out a small, pink card sat atop the flowers, trying not to sneeze.

“’For my lady’,” he reads out loud and doesn’t even need to keep reading to know who sent the flowers. Sawyer Montgomery, the guy Scully has gone out with twice. And, Mulder thinks to himself, who Scully ditched Friday night when they were supposed to have their third date. That might have been partly his fault, but that was last week, and in this new, fresh week, Sawyer is sending roses. How average.

“Mulder?” Scully catches him with his hand in the cookie jar – or rather in the flower bouquet. She’s holding two cups of coffee, and he rushes over to take them from her. The smell of caramel and cinnamon – his and hers – wafts through the office and for a moment he forgets that the flowers – and Sawyer – exist at all.

“Did you get flowers?” Scully asks him with a sweet, albeit curious smile.

“My dates don’t send flowers,” he says. “Yours do.”

“Sawyer?” she asks, sounding surprised and Mulder just nods. “Did he- was he here?”

“The flowers were already here when I arrived. Must be an X-file.”

Scully walks over to the flowers with deliberate steps, as though wary of them. Mulder realizes he’s still holding to the card and gives it to her.

“What is Wonder Boy saying?” he asks, trying to sound bored and nonchalant. He takes a sip from his coffee and watches color rise in her cheeks.

“Um, just that he hopes we can postpone our date. As you know,” she says, turning to him with narrowed eyes, “I had to cancel on Friday.”

“You know our job isn’t exactly 9 to 5.” Could the killer guinea pigs have waited til Saturday or even today? Probably. If he had waited and not jumped at the first pseudo-case he could find, they could have stayed home and enjoyed their weekends, because the killer guinea pigs turned out to be regular guinea pigs who nibbled on their very stoned owner’s fingers. In that alternate universe, Scully would have gone on her date with Sawyer, and maybe the card would have said something else entirely. It’s a universe he doesn’t want to contemplate.

“I know,” Scully mumbles, disrupting his inner turmoil. “I should call him.” She glances at him, her expression uncertain. Does she want dating advice? From him? “I’ll call him.”

“We have that meeting with Skinner in 15 minutes,” Mulder reminds her.

“You’re right,” she says and sounds almost relieved. Or maybe that’s just what he wants to hear. “I’ll call him later.”

And later, Mulder realizes as the day goes on, never comes. At no point during the day does Scully call Sawyer – or anyone, for that matter. He watches her like a hawk – she’s his partner after all and the day boring – but she never picks up the phone. She peeks at the flowers from time to time, her finger tracing a rose pedal, but still, she doesn’t call Sawyer. Close to five p.m., Mulder decides to just shoot his shot.

“Hey,” he says, waiting for Scully to glance up from her keyboard. Her eyes look even bigger because of the glasses she’s wearing. He’s never thought about it before – or her, really – but she’s beautiful. Cute, too.

“Yes, Mulder?”

“I’m hungry. Are you hungry? Do you want to get something to eat?” She seems surprised for a moment, but she takes off her glasses, smiles at him, and says yes.

*

They decide to get Chinese take-out from a place she loves near her apartment. That way, Scully explains, they can eat and still do some work. Mulder rolls his eyes, but if he’s honest, he doesn’t even care about working, as long as he gets to spend more time with her.

“Are you sure we can’t just watch a movie?” He has to at least try.

“Mulder, we need to get these reports done. Who knows what will come up tomorrow, or the rest of the week.”

“Something more fun than writing reports, I hope,” he mumbles.

“Dana? Dana!” Mulder and Scully turn at the exact same moment, their shoulders bumping into each other. A man jogs toward them and it doesn’t take long for Mulder to recognize who it is.

“Sawyer, hi.” It’s Scully who finds her voice first.

“Did you get my flowers?” The man asks with a huge smile directed at Scully, not even glancing at Mulder.

“I did- thank you.”

“I thought you’d call. Like I said, I’m not giving up on this. On us.” Mulder can’t do anything but watch as Sawyer takes Scully’s hands into this. “Hey look, I’m spontaneous. Let’s get dinner now.” His grin reveals two perfect rows of pearly white teeth. Mulder doubts that the man has ever missed an appointment, dentist or otherwise.

“I can’t, Sawyer. We just got take-out.”

“We?” The other man takes his eyes off Scully and observes Mulder, who attempts to smile. He has no idea whether Sawyer recognizes him from a few days back when they were both in line for coffee.

“Hi, I’m Mulder. Dana’s partner.” He offers his hand and only when Sawyer doesn’t take it, does Mulder realize that his choice of word might be misleading.

“Your- Dana? I thought-”

“I’m sorry, Sawyer,” Scully says and both men stare at her. She’s not correcting Mulder at all, or clarifying that what he meant is work partner. They just work together. Sure, they’re friends, too, but he doesn’t want to complicate things even more. “We just got back together.” Scully’s words are flat and not at all convincing; luckily, Sawyer never got the chance to get to know her well enough to realize what a terrible liar she is.

“Sorry, dude,” Mulder says, putting his arm around Scully. She leans into him easily, as if drawn to his side. It doesn’t feel fake at all. It feels right.

“I can’t believe this, I- you will have to find someone else to do your taxes, Dana. Good night.” With that, he stomps off.

“Did he really just say you need to find someone else to do your taxes?” Mulder asks, his arm still around Scully.

“Thank you for playing along.” She lets out a sigh and it sounds to him like relief.

“I thought you liked him.” She shrugs and they continue walking to her apartment.

“He was a bit…”

“Boring?” Mulder supplies, earning a well-deserved eyebrow.

“Not exactly right.” They’re almost at her building by now.

“Can I tell you a secret, Scully?” She just gives him a look. “I called him Snoozer in my mind.” That draws a genuine laugh from her.

“Why?”

“He’s a tax lawyer, Scully.”

“And that automatically makes him boring?”

“Yes!” They both laugh, their eyes locking. “I’m just glad I don’t have to become friends with him,” Mulder says after a moment. “He didn’t even get your coffee order right.”

“But you did,” she says and the implications of it stay in the air as a possibility. Out of her eyesight, Mulder just nods and smiles.

[magnuscomedybracket]

Quarterfinals Match 1

087 Uncanny Valley vs. 103 Cruelty Free

Propaganda under the cut!

087 Uncanny Valley

Guy cleans out flesh from a drain without a blink and nikola has to invite him back again with Jude because he wasn’t scared enough the first time because of obliviousness

Besides the obvious bit of Guy who Doesn’t Realize He’s In A Horror Story, imagine this from Nikolas perspective. Like “oh shit lol this guys name is “skinner” I’m gonna mess with him for shits and giggles… Ok he didn’t notice any of my spooky bullshit, wild! I threatened to butcher him and he was Not Paying Attention! Jude! Hey! Come check out this idiot man!”. Also implication that Jude and nikola hang out being shitty together. I support women’s wrongs.

"Megan" tries to expose this guy to The Horrors and he's so focused on his job that he just doesn't notice. She's so shocked by this that she calls him back and still has to literally force him to notice

The world's most oblivious plumber somehow doesn't notice all the creepy stuff going on and just does his job like normal. It only gets funnier when you consider it from the Stranger avatar's point of view.

Nikola Orsinov trying so hard to scare the least observant man you've ever seen. Whispering in his ear about flencing while he hums noncommittally and pulls a wad of meat from the drain of her spooky factory in the middle of fuck-all nowhere and then he just gives her the invoice and walks out??? Like it's a normal job? And when she calls him to come back the next day she has to dress up in a clown costume to get his attention and grab his head to make him look at The Atrocities that he just entirely missed the day before. I love Sebastian Skinner so much and I wish only the best for him

#I really just want to point out that they're trying to scare a plumber. #A plumber!! #do you think this is the first time this man has had to clean skin and hair out of a drain? #do you think he's never seen blood before? #like yeah it's objectively funny from the Horror's point of views but for him? It's a tuesday #Like that isn't even the weirdest thing he's seen that week #'oh they threatened to butcher him' yeah? what makes them special? #this guy probably deals with 20 different avatars a week by necessity #no amount of 'his name is skinner let's fuck with him' is going to be worse than service work in people's homes (via @/childoferebus)

#the only reason we know what's happening for half the episode is taht we know this is an horror story #and how things usually go. #dude spends half the episode going 'just a normal job. #house in the middle of nwohere. weird smells and textures #*shrugs* just anotehr day on the job* (via @/monstersqueen)

103 Cruelty Free

murder pig

#'murder pig' is so underselling cruelty free #'cruelty free' is funny bc after a whole episode that works through paralleling #the statement giver relationship with meat and his pigs to #the relationship of the murder pig with him and meat #The last thing he says is that he still eats bacon! #Also the murder pig is dealt with by encasing it in cement (via @/monstersqueen)

[enquiringangel]

Do you think the Boys have any long-term goals? Things that requite years to learn like languages, instruments, maybe mechanics? Do you ever think they'd leave Santa Carla - or what might MAKE them leave?

Santa Carla is home, it’s like this nexus where all these dispossessed teens are drawn together and where they made a family. It’s comforting and familiar and it’s the stage where they act out their performance of eternal youth. In the movie I get the impression that they very much live in the moment. Like, almost aggressively so. It’s like they are caught in a bubble of time where the past is meaningless and the future doesn’t exist. To an extent I think they are all avoiding the deeper implications of potentially living forever.

If something—say, the events of the movie—were to come along and burst the bubble, I think there would be a lot of navel-gazing going on. Which is something I will be exploring in my David Lives AU ;-)

So Big long-term goals: no. Leaving Santa Carla? Yes possibly, if there was a drastic shake-up to their way of unlife. During the events of the movie they’re kind of stuck since I can’t see Max allowing them to go wandering.

But despite all that meta talk they would get bored if they did the same thing over and over again, so they have made an attempt to keep stuff interesting.

Languages - I feel like they would go through periods of being really into this, listening to teaching cassettes and attempting to practice on native speakers and on each other, but also fallow periods where they drop it for ages and pick it up again later. I can see Paul wanting to learn French because it’s a romance language and he thought that it would be sexy. But he got unexpectedly into it and started learning other languages from there. He’s also the most willing to accost random humans to practice speaking with them, whereas Dwayne’s collection of half-learned languages is mostly written word focused. This is in comparison to David whose linguistic skills are pretty abysmal. (There is some very rusty Gaelic knocking around in that noggin’ though.) Marko is usually Paul’s guinea pig so he picks up a fair bit from him.

Instrument-wise Paul is the most musical but he taught the others to play guitar. (As a child he was made to learn violin. There is one gathering dust in the cave somewhere.) Marko is tone deaf and cannot tell the difference between notes of music to save his life. Dwayne is passable but lacks interest to commit to it, though he taught himself to play piano. David picked up the most from Paul’s instruction and is fairly good, actually. Sometimes Paul gets him to come and jam.

For a very brief time, there was a drum set down in the cave. Very brief.

Mechanics-wise they are all interested in things that go vroom vroom but Dwayne and David are the most mechanically minded. They strip engines down together and reassemble them. Dwayne is more handy at fixing stuff but David can look at a car and know all the specs for that make and model. Sometimes he steals them to take them for test drives and rate their performance. In the cave there is a pile of tattered and soggy car magazines sandwiched between old editions of playboy and men’s ‘physique magazines’.

Marko is always knee-deep in some art project or another, which may or may not get abandoned before it is finished. He once tried to build a model of the hotel in its heyday using matchsticks.

Also Dwayne once introduced Marko to the theories of the Behaviorist B. F. Skinner, whose work in operant conditioning included training pigeons. One of the things they were taught to do was play ping-pong. Marko took a look at the wild birds hanging out in the hotel and immediately decided to try it.

[best-magnus-archives-character]

Bonus poll 7? I lost count. Shipping poll 3?? Or 4??

*i assume these are rare cause i havent seen them in the ao3 magnus archives tag at all, or if i did it was like once. if i accidentally added smth not rare im sorry!! most of these were submitted when i was asking for ships

**galaxy brain take of guys who just said nope to the entities (joshua resisted the coffin, dylan was seen by monster pig as a friend)

***universe brain take with the same premise but polyamorous (skinner is too unaware of his surroundings to even notice The Stranger, lenox is from mag100 he had the dog and he escaped the spiral by being late for dinner and i love him)

dont forget to vote on the ongoing revival round! you should be able to find it by searching revival poll! (ill do the daily reblog later)

[hasbr0mniverse]

Shipwreck’s Corner - Muskrat spent his formative years up to his knees in one swamp or another, hunting raccoon, possum and wild pig. He was able to hold his own against poachers, 'gator skinners, moonshiners, escapees from the chain gangs, and smugglers. Ranger school and Jungle Warfare Training Center seemed like summer camp to him. As far as he was concerned, they weren't teaching him anything exotic at all!

[prettydollybambi]

I eat like a pig at lunch I stuff it down my throat then regret it later

Every man I’ve ever loved has discarded me when they leave me it’s for a girl skinner then me

I bet when other girls look at my pictures on instagram they say to themselves “thank god I’m not her size”

My friend even said I eat messy at lunch

Why do I have

to be like this

He changed his profile picture to a girl skinner and prettier then me

If I weren’t so huge I wouldn’t have these problems

[sialaterornever]

i reference catarina too much in tags and yet. no one knows who the fuck she is so oc explanation time :D

catarina oakley aka catarina sneaky danger killer oakley (yes that is her legal name) aka the Necromancer is my west of loathing oc!! she's just. ough. yeah. she's on my artfight & toyhouse bc i draw her so much. i dont have favorite ocs but i mean. cmon.

(dw i can never forget my own sona + sialazar btw)

anyways uh. yeah. she basically follows the plotline of wol which is hilarious to explain to people whove never played/heard of wol. also shes immortal bc i said so <3 (explaining her immortality thru skeletal magic bc yeah necromancy aint just resurrection we got bone magic up in ere) also i forgot to mention she's a beanslinger

also shes tall as fuck snd bisexual bc yes. also long as hell hair which is also white and she looks old and she wears a mask cuz she looks like shit. i like to give her scars that look like cracks bc she fights a lot. she also does have the ruthless trait & was gary's partner!

oh yeah shadows ovef loathing time you know that one newspaper in ocean city sbout frisco frights and all that shit? yeah in my canon catarina did that </3 she got possessed by the Horrors (necromantic magic took over when norton used the crown since in this timeline i gave norton the necromancer crown) and did all that shit to frisco. also she kills gary. the original. angst :3 yeah and then she just runs westward and is just. ominous. im writing a thing some time after the events of frisco frights that takes place in the winter where she finds some prince bleeding out in the snow and helps him recover and shenanigans insue + like. facing the past. i was writing that little thing entirely from a prompt btw i did not intend on it to get out of hand but here we are

she actually kinda gets a role post-sol in a thing im writing bc i have like. 3 sol ocs. rufus actually finds her and manages to bring her back to civilization (ocean city) (he found her in a magical coma in a cave) (no idk why she was there too) and ends up roped in the shenanigans of my sol ocs

i'll yap about them in a separate post but for now uh. they're named catsby oaksend (main sol oc, cheese wizard, she/her), alabastor queens (corruption oc, pig skinner, he/him), and silvester queens (pacifist oc, jazz agent, they/them)

legit one of if not my oldest oc btw. older than the original sia which was. ouch.

[scoutbot]

kindlingpelt

pronouns: he/him

setting: my warrior cats fanclans

story: kindlingpelt is amberstrike's littermate. like her, he was bullied and discriminated against all his life for being half-clan. unlike his sister, he reacted by trying his best to prove them wrong and to be the best, most loyal warrior he could. however, he is willing to break the rules if they dont make sense to him, like by going to visit his sister outside of gatherings after shes chosen to be a scribe.

h. paradox

pronouns: it/its

setting: loathing games

story: h. paradox is the result of the shadowcaster taking the artifacts from the merging of two universes, wrapping them up in strangely-proportioned humanoid form, and gluing them together with a soul and the vague idea of a pig skinner. now, for whatever the shadow caster needed paradox for, it needed to have free will, and thus not inherently be of the shadow. so, when paradox came into consious existence in a back alley, it had two directives in its mind - cause harm and become shadow corrupted. before it could do any of these things, it was found by problem bandersnatch, who adopted this clearly new to existing thing like a stray cat and made it come with him and my other shadows over loathing character on their quest. it quickly found that disobeying its directive and helping people felt good and decided to willingly help problem on his quest.

[havinganormalone]

Okay coming back to this, some choice details from last night:

He told me that his "strategy" for gambling was to change the denominations of what he bet every now and then. He told me how he came up here 3 or 4 nights a week, and it was basically his "part time job." I believe this man meets the criteria of gambling addict.

For those of you who have never been in a casino, slot machines are so fucking boring. He liked the machine based around The Three Little Pigs, which is a level of cringe I would not even touch. All the machines have their own gimmicks which are not explained anywhere. It's not like an arcade where cabinets will outline rules. This is because the gambling company knows that if you don't understand what is going on, you will sink money trying to figure it out. However, figuring it out offers you no advantages. There is no "strategy." The machines take money, and according to a predetermined, unpublished odds ratio, spit out the occasional winnings. Gambling is stupid. It can occasionally be fun and heart-pounding for some, but it is not something you can ever "get good at." At least not video slots.

Over the course of our 90 minutes in the casino, he put $500 of his money into the machines. However, there was one point where he got a payout of over $300, which was more than he had put in at that point, and he did not walk away, because "his winning streak was just starting to kick in." It's true that these machines pay out... but they do so at a slightly lower rate than the money put into them. For every $100 you feed them, you will get maybe $60-$75 back in winnings. Most of this is spread out, so it keeps you at the slots a little longer. It is uncommon to get a payout like he did, where he was close to hitting 0 and having to feed another 100, and there is a very large sum won at once to make up for it. Usually it's like... you have $41, now $43.50, now $40, now $39, now $44, now $40 again, etc, a wiggly graph that's ultimate trajectory is 0.

And it is, I cannot stress this enough, so fucking boring. It's so boring. It's a skinner box that isn't even dressed up very well. It's predatory, and I feel sorry for the people who's lives are empty and desperate enough to be pulled in.

I am on the worst date send help.

[diorysuss]

stop posting about pig skinner

[i-am-very-heck]

wake up new stick figure dropped

hes a pig skinner and enjoys flowy clothes :)