#and all the people saying they won’t see it because Bugs isn’t in it.. please let the 3 Porky fans on this earth (i am all 3 of them) have

[ducktracy]

The Invader was probably my favorite character in the movie, at first I was confused why Marvin wasn't playing the alien antagonist role, but by the end this guy really stood out on his own

THE INVADER IS A LOT OF FUN! tbh i didn’t really have any strong feelings on him at first (pig and duck bias), but i was able to appreciate him a lot more in my latest rewatch in the theater. it would have been neat to see Marvin in his place, especially since Duck Dodgers (the show) shows that he does have the capacity to be a serious threat, BUT i love how limber and exaggerated his animation could be. i think he fits the hysteria of the film well while also preserving the more slow, creeping moments. i love Marvin and would have loved to have seen him (again, rip to the Duck Dodgers film proposed in the ‘90s), but i ultimately think The Invader was the best call because a) the “synergy” and recognizability of Marvin could maybe be a bit distracting and take away from any threat he posed, and b) his whole thing is that he’s an absolute dweeb!! Chuck Jones originally named him Antwerp because he looks like an ant and he’s a twerp! and as the story of the film survives now, i think casting an entirely new character was the best bet for preserving the sort of intimidation they were wanting to go for

[lovebugism]

Hi!!!

Could you write jealous!eddie x reader…🫣

I’m down so bad for this man istg

ty for requesting :D i too am down bad for this man — grump!eddie can't believe other people get to look at you (jealous!eddie, established relationship, 1.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie thought the comic book section of Family Video was the coolest thing in the world until he met you. And it’s weird ‘cause now you’re all he can think about. He’s holding a collector’s item in his hands, but all he can see is you — and how close you’re standing to Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

The boy lays two VHS tapes on the counter before you, each packaged in a thick plastic case. My Neighbor Totoro and The Land Before Time. He waits for you to make an impossible choice while you idle just ahead of him, elbows propped on the countertop with your head in your hands. Your wide-eyed gaze darts between the two options.

Your head shakes between your palms. “I can’t decide,” you conclude, rising to full height with a final huff. “It’s like choosing your favorite child.”

“Well, good thing you don’t have to,” Steve quips with a lopsided smirk. His nose scrunches, and it makes his honey eyes sparkle. “‘Cause you’re getting both. On the house.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him, brows pinched in a quiet sort of protest.

He drops the tapes into a plastic bag, then shrugs like his hand slipped. “Too late.”

“Won’t your boss get mad?”

“What Keith doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me,” you agonize, face twisted with every bit of it.

Steve meets your worry with a wider, pink grin. He bounces a shoulder and jostles the nametag pinned haphazardly to his emerald vest. “I’ll be fine, alright? I’m strong— I can take one of Keith’s stupid lectures.”

Your hesitant fingers brush his golden ones when you take the bag from him. “You’re so brave, Steve Harrington,” you lilt with a teasing glint in your eye, tilting your cheek to your shoulder to feign sincerity.

“The bravest, actually,” the boy jokes in return.

Eddie watches all this play out from where he lingers at the comic book stand. A whole rack of his favorite superheroes, and he isn’t paying an ounce of attention to a single one. 

He was only halfway listening at first, still mostly focused on the cartoon in his hands — if only to pretend he wasn’t completely eavesdropping on your conversation. But now he’s outright staring the two of you down, with an unabashed glare pointed at the asshole flirting with his girl. 

“God, he’s disgusting,” Eddie grumbles under his breath when Steve says something that makes you laugh.

He’s not talking totally to himself. Not entirely, anyway. Dustin’s crouched just beside him in search of one of the newer comics that he swears Keith is hiding from him. “He’s just being nice,” the curly-haired boy reasons with a shrug, obviously distracted as he flips through a stack of flimsy magazines.

Eddie scoffs and finally turns away from you to look at the boy below him. He blinks for the first time in several minutes as he shoots the kid a deadpan stare. “Oh, so it’s not because he thinks my girlfriend’s hot?”

“He’s definitely doing it because she’s hot,” Dustin answers without thinking twice.

“Watch it, Henderson.”

“You asked!” he argues, tilting his chin to look up at Eddie with a wide, ocean-eyed stare. “I’m just saying. Steve’s a good guy. He wouldn’t do that to you— Now, can you please help me find this stupid comic book before I lose my mind?”

Eddie huffs. He decides it might be healthier to distract himself with this metaphorical treasure hunt than stare daggers at you and Steve from across the room. “Which one are you looking for again?”

“Metamorpho— The original. Not the stupid reprint that just came out.”

The older boy stills. He closes the comic book between his palms with one pale hand until the cover of it flips down. Metamorpho, the vibrant cover reads, The Element Man. He’d been too busy looking at you, he hadn’t realized he’d been hiding the thing from Dustin for five whole minutes.

“Is this it?” Eddie murmurs, shoving the thing in the boy’s face.

Dustin’s head shoots up. He snatches the thing from the boy’s grip and gapes at it, with all his practiced teenage boy dramatics. “You had it the entire time?!” he shouts, but Eddie’s already sauntering to the front counter — where Steve’s still making you laugh. 

As pretty as you are smiling (so much that it makes his chest ache), there’s a simmering anger burning orange in his chest. Making you laugh is his job. Not Harrington’s.

You seem to notice his presence before he’s even wrapped you in his arms. You flash him a beaming grin that makes his stomach whirl. He gets sick with it — with nostalgia or something equally tender. 

The green of his envy starts to fade when he realizes you’re wearing his skull and cross-bones sweater, all bundled up in it like it’s yours. He feels a primal sense of ownership, knowing that you’re swaddled in something that belongs to him, knowing he has you in a way Steve doesn’t. It’s not every day the local freak gets to one-up the king.

“Ready to go?” Eddie grins, rosy and broad, as he wraps his arms around you in a loose, sideways embrace. The warmth of the proximity has your stomach doing backflips. The familiarity of his scent, musky and woody and smoky, makes your heart thud hard against your ribcage.

“Yep,” you nod, still smiling. “Steve’s letting me get the movies for free.”

Eddie’s lips smack against his teeth as his jaw drops in a feigned sense of awe. His wild curls bunch at his shoulder when his head tilts softly sideways, looking at the boy across the counter. “Aw,” he croons, high-pitched and sarcastic. “Isn’t that sweet?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Shut up before I revoke your comic stand privileges.”

Eddie squints. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, Munson.”

Eddie, deciding to be the bigger person, chooses to abandon the petty argument. He feels like the bigger person, anyway — like he’s ten feet tall, walking out of Family Video with you under his arm. He could lose a thousand arguments and still feel like a winner as long as he gets to crawl home to you.

You can’t help but notice how weird he’s being, though. There was a foreign bite behind his words as he spat his sarcasm at Steve. The tension follows you even now, as he opens the passenger side door of his van for you. 

Eddie holds onto the rusted latch with a pale, tattooed hand. You turn to face him instead of planting yourself onto the chipping pleather seat. “Are you okay?” you ask, a subtle furrow between your brows when you peer at him from beneath your lashes.

The boy scoffs a boyish laugh, obviously overcompensating. “Yeah, I’m fine— what are you talking about?”

Your eyes narrow. “You’re being weird.”

“I think you’re being weird, doll— interrogating me outta nowhere.” 

He expects you to laugh. Then he could tell you how pretty you are, and you’d be so flustered by the compliment that you’d forget this entire conversation ever happened. You don’t laugh, though. You don’t even crack a smile. You just keep staring at him.

“I’m fine,” Eddie groans, wild curls billowing when a breeze rolls by. He still tries to smile, though the bright pink expression doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He shrugs and tries to play it cool because anything less than that is so not metal. “I’m just… I’m just a little annoyed. That’s all.”

Your chest stings and your stomach starts to ache. Your mind reels as you try to understand what you could’ve done because the oh-so-sensitive you feels like it must be your fault.

“Annoyed at me?” you press in a tiny voice.

“No!” Eddie booms instantly, much louder than you. He quietens, but his face still swirls with protest. He could never be annoyed at you. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve never done anything wrong in your life. “No— are you kidding? You’re perfect.”

He takes your face in his ringed hands, cradling your cheeks until they squish softly together. A perfect thing, indeed.

“Then what happened?” you mutter through your gently jutted lips.

The boy drops his chin to his chest and sighs. He hates that you care so much about him that you actually make him talk about his feelings. He’d much rather bottle them up and save ‘em for a rainy day. But no, you love him enough to pry the hidden emotion from his cold, black heart.

“I don’t know,” he answers first in an inaudible murmur, kicking at loose pebbles on the concrete because it’s easier than meeting your eyes. “Sometimes it gets annoying when… Other people look at you, I guess…”

He peeks at you beneath his long lashes, button eyes made of chocolate. They swim with a glittering emotion. Something tender and sheepish. He’s like a puppy when he looks at you this way. You can’t help but find him utterly adorable accordingly.

He’s a little surprised when his words make you laugh. He wasn’t joking, really, but he’s relieved to hear the honeyed sound. It runs over him like drops of summer rain and absolves him of all his envy.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I can fix that,” you reply, smiling wide between his calloused palms.

“I know,” he whines, pouting softly. “And it sucks. ‘Cause you’re too pretty for your own good.”

You lean further into his warm hand. You blink at him with pretty eyes, and in a pretty voice, you wonder, “Would it make you feel better if I said that I only care when you’re looking at me? And that everyone else is basically invisible when you’re around?”

Eddie’s heart swells so much it starts to ache. You’ve awoken something in him — something that used to be dead before you came around, or something that didn’t exist at all. It’s something golden and made of velvet. Something warm and honeyed. Something that doesn’t have a name because you don’t even know you’ve invented it.

Despite trying not to smile too wide, a beam begins to pull at the corners of his mouth. A second later, and he’s grinning with all his teeth. He gets all shy, ducking his gaze as he nods at you. “Yeah, actually— that does make me feel a little better.”

You beam up at him, all lovesick and stupid. With your cheeks still in his hands, you rise to the tips of your toes and press a smacking kiss to the flushed apple of his cheek.

Eddie figures it doesn’t get more metal than this.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 6

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.6

“Good evening, Stanley.”

“...”

“I can see in lieu of speaking, you have instead chosen to communicate with an obscene hand gesture- two obscene hand gestures. I'll excuse your immaturity because I understand you might be feeling… upset.”

“Upset? Me? What could I possibly be upset about?”

“I understand your current state of… lodging is making you apprehensive. On account of being involuntarily committed.”

“You not picking up sarcasm doesn’t surprise me. And this isn’t an involuntary commitment; this is an unlawful abduction and confinement. I have enough experience with both to know the difference.”

“You what?”

“Ask me whatever stupid questions you’re about to ask, but I refuse to stand up. This is literally the first bed I’ve had since prison; and in that bed I had to worry about bed bugs, dirty needles, poisonous snakes… and Jorge.”

“What was that last thing that you just whispered to yourself?”

“Don’t worry about it. Now, what do you want, Doc? You here to scan me again? Get me to take more drugs? Ask me weirdly personal questions like your hot friend?”

“I want to talk. I may have come on a little strong when we crossed paths in town, in order for you to truly understand where I’m coming from, I’m going to have to give you some context in place of your lost memory.”

“Please tell me you’re not about to give me the tragic backstory of you and your missing twin.”

“Listen, Stanley, you don’t remember this; but we had a falling out ten years ago.”

“Aaand you’re doing it. Yeah, that’s pretty much what I was expecting. Fine, I’ll play along.”

“We were in our senior year of high school. You ruined a project of mine, and it cost me my dream college. We had a fight, and you got- you left home after that.”

“Man, dunno why I’d do something like that.”

“You were scared of me leaving you.”

“Did a shitty thing, and ended up alone anyways. That's something I'd expect from me.”

“And then you tried to justify it and say there was a silver lining-.”

“I’m sorry.”

“...What?”

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“... Where’s your excuse?”

“Hm?”

“Your excuses- your reasons? You cannot just apologize- so casually.”

“Sure I can. I just did. You don't accept it, that’s your right."

“...You don’t mean that.”

“Naw, I’m pretty sure no one deserves to be betrayed. I’m sorry you were.”

“Saying sorry doesn’t make it okay.”

“Didn’t say it did. Nothing can- it’s already happened, and there’s no changing it. You don’t wanna forgive and forget? I won’t make you.”

“And you’re going to simply… move on?”

“Look, PhD, I can’t tell you why your real twin did what he did, or what was going through his head when he did it. But he did the wrong thing to the wrong person, and paid for it. It’s too bad you had to pay for it too.”

“You are-.”

“Can see why you’d get us mixed up though. All I do is ruin things, too. Maybe if that thing with your project hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t be a wackjob who carries a tranq gun with him everywhere and abducts people off of the street.”

“I’m not mixing anything up. You are exactly who I keep trying to tell you that you are. You’re just not you right now.”

“I’m never anybody but me. You feel better now? Get all of that out of your system?”

“Now that I have told you what separated us-.”

“I’m gonna take that as a no.”

“Can you fill me in on the years that followed?”

“Doc, a lot of what I remember is like smoke - it’s hazy, and it’s hard to hold onto, can you be specific?”

“How about we start with something tangible?”

“Like what?”

“I am going to slip a paper and a pen through the slot in the door. Write down a list of the people who’ve tried to kill you.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. You told my associate a number of alarming things during his interview with you, and he reported that a not insignificant number of those things revolved around people trying to kill you.”

“A lot of them still want me dead, you know. If they figured out where I was, they might raid this place. It’s not too late to just… let me go, and we can pretend none of this happened. I’m not gonna hold a grudge against you, it's clear to me you've got issues because your real twin is either dead or hiding in Cuba.”

“They can try. They’ll fail.”

"Gutsy. We coulda been friends if you weren't insane."

"...We were."

"If you say so."

To be continued...

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Snake, madam red, lau, agni, and Soma

With Ceil cousin ( the mom of his cousin, we need better name it's gets confusing), like how are they liked with a hard working mother who care for her only son ( care enough that they still trying to get out of the Phantomhive name liked that previous ask )

Cousin Mother Reader | Yandere Blackbutler

Madame Red

When she hears about you through the grapevine she’s interested

Further impressed with your literate ability and pride in your single-motherhood

She does have a nasty habit for killing people who don’t

“What confidence…I admire that about you dearest cousin.”

She’s plenty pleased that Ciel’s decided to keep you with him

Not only to have a valid excuse to bug you but to be the perfect one to help you ‘run’

“Society’s hard on us women, it’s best if we stick together. Right~?”

She enjoys the attention and needy face+ you give her when trying to scheme 

She doesn’t care all that much that Ciel is well aware of this

After all, he isn’t exactly privileged enough to be a shoulder you lean on 

“Sorry but I’m not going to stop! Us two are just two peas in a pod! We belong together!”

Lau

“Ah~so Ciel has added another to the pack? How interesting!”

He really is intrigued especially when you outright scold him and Ran Mao 

“Have some dignity you two. There are children present!”

“Oh do we upset you mother dearest?”

“Don’t mock me. And if you’re going to smoke do it outside, scum.”

“Oh? Your twittering is so violent, why don’t you sing instead? It’d surely make you an even prettier prize.”

“Hey! Miss (Y/n) please don’t throw that at ‘m! Please don’t!”

He loves provoking you 

He thinks its hot

Most women he’s met are a lot more docile 

And with a child no less 

Oh what’d he give to have you straddle him like Ran Mao 

To have you beg him for his help 

But it seems your pride excludes him from your ventures

Too bad you don’t want to work with him an opium manufacturer

He’d love to take care of you both

Agni 

He admires your diligence 

And the way you smile when you talk to your baby boy

He wonders why you don’t treat Ciel the same way

“It must be nice to be able to travel as freely as you two do.”

“...I’m sure the prince wouldn’t mind, having you travel with us.”

“While I wish I could, the government won’t allow me to go so freely. Currently, the acting ‘man’ isn’t willing to let me go.”

“...What’s his name? Surely he wouldn’t refuse an honest marriage proposal.”

He’d wish you weren’t silenced from telling him

Otherwise, he might be tempted to go behind his prince’s back again

Soma

“Marry me (Y/n)! Ciel can take care of your child and we can go back to–”

“Can’t and won’t. My child goes with me, no matter what.”

“Awwwww!”

Because he acts like a child its a given you treat him like one

And man does it feed his mommy issues

When he decides he wants you he’ll have you 

He just has to keep asking nicely right?

If not he’ll just have Agni relocate you

That way he’d be the only baby that you have

Snake

“Well that’s a strong mate if I ever sees one–says Wormsworth. And I agree.”

He’s used to being feared

not anyone with genuine knowledge of his reptilian compatriots

So already he holds a strong attraction to you 

He can’t believe Ciel intends to hurt you 

He doubted from the start

So he can’t be tricked to think he’s not protecting you and your kid

So he might sabotage your schemes or send a snake when its going too well

He wants you to love him he really does 

But if all he can do is protect you he’ll do just that

Besides if you left how else would he show you how good of a mate he is

[cinnbar-bun]

Popularity- Cross Guild's Day Off 2 (Cross Guild x Reader)

Summary: In which you work with the three Cross Guild officers and Buggy attempts to prove his popularity through a poll. Of course, it's never as simple as it really should be in Cross Guild.

Rating: SFW/Crack

Word Count: ~3k

Notes: No relationships are defined, so feel free to headcanon whatever you want. I know it says x Reader up there and I wrote it in mind that it's a weird ass polycule but I made sure to leave it ambiguous for your reading pleasure. Made in mind with part 1, but can be read as standalone. Features cameos from Alvida, Galdino, and Daz Bones.

A/n: I love these three goofballs so like feel free to request stuff with them or what scenarios you'd like to see them in please???

Read Part 1 here! Read this chapter on my AO3 here!

“It’s really not fair! It’s not fair at all!” Buggy screamed. Mihawk, Crocodile, and you sighed at whatever it was that seemed to be, well, bugging Buggy. 

“Will you stop your complaining? Some of us are actually trying to do work here,” Crocodile growled while his fingers continued clicking away on the calculator. “(Y/n), go and hand me the reports for-,” 

“Right here, Sir,” you said as you handed him the stack of papers he wanted. Crocodile smirked proudly while his eyes narrowed at Buggy. 

“See, why can’t you be like (Y/n)? They know how to get work done.” 

“Wha-! I get work done! Plenty of work!” 

“Juggling isn’t work.” 

“Is too!” Buggy stomped his foot. 

“Hardly,” Mihawk chimes in. 

“Grrr… you two are just jealous of me! Jealous of how I’m the Star Clown and you two will just be boring, old men!” 

Mihawk and Crocodile glanced at each other knowingly and rolled their eyes. 

“You’re still bothered by the fact you were not important enough to have any good cards in the deck, aren't you?” Mihawk states bluntly, not bothering to be gentle with Buggy’s fragile ego. 

“SHUT UP!!! SHUT UP!!!!” Buggy shouted, gaining the attention from his subordinates outside the office. 

“Aw… someone’s upset,” Crocodile teased. You huffed at the two stoic ex-warlords and tried to soothe Buggy. 

“Buggy, it’s alright. They’re just silly cards. Look around you, you have so many employees happy to work for you because they really admire you as captain,” you say genuinely while patting his head. Buggy sniffles and nods. 

“You’re right, (Y/n), you’re right,” Buggy agrees. He wipes his eyes and nose with his hand before he bounces back to life, clenching his fists. “That’s very true! All these people love me and would die for me! So those card makers don’t know anything! I’m the most popular one here!” 

“Wait, what…” you wince, while Crocodile and Mihawk groan. 

“Thanks, (Y/n), now he’s gonna do something stupid again,” Crocodile sighed. 

“Buggy, all I’m saying is-” you try to fix your error, but Buggy shakes his head. 

“Nope! You just gave me an amazing idea!” 

“Here we go again,” Mihawk mumbles. 

“W-what’s the idea?” You ask Buggy. 

“Obviously, to really settle the matter, we need to hold a popularity contest!” Buggy proclaims. 

“We really don’t have to. No one cares about this except you,” Crocodile says blandly while he opens the folder you gave him. 

“Haha! You’re just saying that because you know deep down that I will win when it comes to Cross Guild!” Buggy eggs Crocodile on. “They love me here!” 

“I really don’t care-” 

“So, to finally gather once and for all who the most popular is-” 

“God damn it.” 

“I’m going to poll the others!” Buggy announces, grabbing a random clipboard from your desk. 

“Isn’t that rather biased?” Mihawk asked. 

“Biased? What are you talking about?” Buggy raises his brow. “You think Imma lie about this?” 

“Yes,” all of you respond. Buggy lets out an offended gasp and frowns. 

“Well then, what do you suggest, smart guy?” Buggy yells at Mihawk. 

“Having only you go around and then return with results will obviously not be the most accurate. We need to send a third party that won’t lie,” Mihawk explains. 

The three men turn to look at you. 

“Why do I have to do it?” You fold your arms. “I have work to do!” 

“I’ll pay you extra for this week in order to have Buggy shut up,” Crocodile states. 

“Do you think I can be swayed so easily with money?” 

“Yes,” the three men respond. You swipe the clipboard from Buggy. 

“Damn right I am,” you state as you pick up your favorite pen from your desk. 

“Now then, since you’re going to be polling, I expect truthful and honest answers,” Mihawk demands. “No one can lie or cheat this.” 

“Before we do this, none of you are allowed to know who voted for who,” you add. “I’m not having you fire or hunt down some poor employee because they voted for Mihawk or something.” “Well that won’t happen,” Buggy comments. “No one is gonna vote for Mihawk to begin with.” 

Now it’s Mihawk’s turn to be offended. “What do you mean by that, Buggy? Do I need to silence you for good?” 

“Eek! All I’m saying is, you hardly ever step out of the office or interact with anyone!” 

Mihawk stays silent then mumbles, “I interact with others…” 

“Oh really? Name one person you’ve interacted with,” Crocodile demands. 

“You can’t do that, either,” Mihawk counters. 

“That’s just because I don’t give a shit about these people’s names. I still talk to them, though,” Crocodile corrects. 

“Fine, (Y/n)!” Mihawk huffs. 

“They don’t count.” 

“Why don’t they?” Mihawk crosses his arms. 

“Because we all see them every day in this office,” Crocodile chides Mihawk. “Name someone.” 

“Okay, I guess I cannot name anyone,” Mihawk relents. “Not that it matters in the slightest, by the way. This is a silly and pointless little game.” 

“See? No one is gonna vote for you!” Buggy laughs. 

“I guess I should kill you now, Buggy,” Mihawk says as he draws Yoru. 

“Gaaaahhh! No! Please don’t!” Buggy cries, latching onto you for safety. 

“Buggy, please let go,” you sigh. The clown does so shakily and you begin to write on the paper in your clipboard. “Okay… Buggy, Crocodile, Mihawk. There we go. I’ll go around and ask, then. See you guys later.” 

“Before you go,” Crocodile begins. You turn to hear him out while he has a big shit-eating grin on his face. “If you’re going to talk to Mr. 3… knock before you enter.” 

Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets from what this could mean as you nod and exit the office. 

“Why the hell did you say that?” Buggy questions. Crocodile chuckles, taking a puff from his cigar as he shakes his head. 

“Oh, they’ll see soon enough.” 

-

“Favorite head of Cross Guild?” An employee scratches his head. His coworker beside him does the same. 

“Wait, uh, they’re not gonna kill us for answering this, are they?” The other one asks. 

“Crap, you’re right. Is this some way to weed us out or something?” 

You shake your head. “No, no, not at all! This is just a… uh… thing they’re testing for some new merchandise,” you lie. 

“Ah,” the two men nod along. “That makes so much sense.” 

“Buggy,” the first man states. 

“Mmm… yeah, Buggy,” the second adds. “He never harps on us like Sir Crocodile.” 

You thank them for the response and tally it to the votes. 

“I guess Buggy was right,” you mumble to yourself, seeing as he currently had seven votes out of the seven people you asked. “Maybe we could send these results in to those cardmakers and get a cut of the merchandising.” 

Just as you’re about to walk away, Alvida strolls into the room. 

“Oh, Alvida! Good morning,” you smile at her. “Can I have a moment of your time?” “(Y/n), dear,” Alvida runs a hand through her hair. “What do you need from the most beautiful woman of the sea?” 

“Well, the higher-ups wanted to run a poll,” you show her the paper. “Please vote for your favorite head of Cross Guild.” 

She studies the paper for a moment and purses her lips. “Hmm… you know what, I vote for you.” 

“What?” 

“What? Just put a tally for you,” Alvida suggests nonchalantly. 

“But, um, I’m not a head of Cross Guild,” you argue. 

“So? You practically are their fourth one. I’m sure they won’t mind. And if they do, they can take it up with me,” Alvida brushes your concerns aside and takes the pen from you. She writes your name down and adds a tally. 

“Can I ask why you want to add me?” 

“Simple, dear.” Alvida chuckles. “You’re not like those brutes upstairs. You get worked to the bone by them yet still retain your own sense of self. Do you know what that is?” 

“No, I don’t think I know what that is-” 

“Passion!” Alvida throws her arms in the air. “You are passionate, clean, stylish, and most of all, you are quiet! If anyone is worthy of my vote and attention- it is you!” 

“Wow, thank you,” you comment, impressed that Alvida actually gave you a nice compliment. 

“Yes, yes, well, what do you think about becoming my assistant instead of working for them?” Alvida winks. 

“Ah sorry, I’m pretty happy where I am right now,” you quickly shut down. Alvida clicks her tongue. 

“Hm… perhaps you’d prefer to be my partner instead? You would be a good match by my side.” 

“Would you look at the time!” You awkwardly laugh. “Bye, Alvida!” 

“Bye, darling. Don’t worry though, we’ll pick this conversation up another time~,” she waves. You sigh in relief as you walk away that she didn’t mace you immediately. Still, there’s work to be done. 

You walk into the staff lounge and greet the other members there, who cheerfully greet you back. 

“Sorry to bother you guys, but if you could just fill out this poll, that would be great. And don’t worry, no one will know of the results, so please be as honest as you can!” 

The clipboard gets passed along by the staff members, who quickly add a tally mark to the poll. In less than a minute, all twenty people in the lounge have responded. 

“Wow, thank you guys. You guys are quick,” you joke, taking back the clipboard. 

“The choice was obvious,” one of the employees answers, and the others nod. You wonder who they voted for when you look at the paper, only to see your name has now over twenty marks attached to it. Your eyes widen and you politely thank the others as you step out of the room. 

It was one thing when Alvida did as she pleased, but now the others were voting for you in droves. You took a deep breath. Crocodile, Mihawk, and Buggy surely wouldn’t kill you for this, would they? After all, Alvida herself said they could bring it up with her. Yeah, that was okay. This was just a silly joke anyways. 

You continue to collect polls, feeling touched yet also nervous when you found that every employee had checked you off as their favorite. It got so bad that you had to use a second page to collect all the tallies that the employees were adding to your name. 

As the number of employees left to ask dwindled, you remembered to get Daz Bones and Galdino’s polls. You figured the choice would be clear for them- Crocodile. After all, they were very loyal to him and even continued their work relationship into Cross Guild. It would also allow for Crocodile to at least get some vote from his current tally at zero. 

You had scoured for them all around the base, but didn’t find any sign of their presence. Just as you were about to give up, you found Daz Bones peacefully sitting, probably waiting for his next assignment. 

“Daz! Can I-” 

“(Y/n), I have no interest,” he cut you off. 

“It’s for Crocodile,” you add, knowing he wouldn’t participate otherwise. Daz nods and then urges you to step closer. You show him the clipboard and he raises a brow. 

“Crocodile really cares about this sort of thing?” 

“It’s mostly because of Buggy,” you explain, and Daz nods, connecting the dots. He quickly tallies a mark to Crocodile’s name. “Thank you, Daz!” 

“You’re welcome,” he gruffly responds. 

“Oh, and do you know where Galdino is?” 

“Why should I know? Perhaps he’s in his room,” Daz shrugs. You should’ve guessed that but wave goodbye and walk to Galdino’s room. You’re about to knock when you remember Crocodile’s ominous warning echoing in your head again. 

“Knock before you enter…” 

You were going to do that anyways, but the weird way Crocodile said it made you grimace. You nervously rapped your knuckles against Galdino’s door. You heard a huff and a lot of grumbling as Galdino swung open the door. 

“What do you w-,” he angrily yells until he gasps when he sees it’s you. “(Y/n)! Ah! Uh! Please excuse me!” 

You briefly notice a large wax statue on the table before Galdino slams the door on your face. You jump when you hear Galdino freaking out and throwing things around his studio. Something metal is grating against the floor as you hear Galdino struggle to move the obviously heavy object. 

“G-Galdino? Is this a bad time?” You call out. 

“No, no, no! It’s fine! Perfectly fine! Hahaha there’s nothing weird going on here!” Galdino answers from inside his room as something crashes to the floor and Galdino swears. 

It’s silent for a moment until Galdino opens the door, leaning against the frame and trying to give you a charming smile while some wax is now splattered against his pants and shirt. 

“So, (Y/n), what brings you to my studio?” He asks while forcing his voice to sound lower, pushing up his glasses. 

“Ah, the heads wanted to take a little poll. Mind answering?” 

“Anything for- I mean-,” Galdino coughs and lowers his voice again. “Anything for you, (Y/n).” 

He takes the clipboard from you and begins to notice the options, quickly marking a tally next to your name. 

“There you go- wait a minute!” He looks horrified as realization sets in that there’s only one tally next to Crocodile- most likely Daz, he thinks. Crocodile would absolutely know right away that Galdino didn’t choose him, and the thought makes Galdino nearly pass out. “I-I need to change my vote!” 

“Sure,” you give the clipboard back to him and Galdino scribbles over the one he gave you to mark one next to Crocodile. 

“Kh... but we’re supposed to be honest…” Galdino mutters. He glances at you, and seeing you patiently waiting and smiling at him makes his heart tighten. 

Gah! Who am I supposed to choose?! My muse or my boss?!

“Are you alright, Galdino?” You asked, making Galdino struggle to form words. Instead, he scribbled over the mark he put next to Crocodile and re-marked a tally next to your name. 

He hands the clipboard back to you and you smile and wave to him. “Thank you, Galdino!” 

“Y-you’re very welcome!” Galdino shouts, unable to control his voice properly around you. You turn around and head back to the office while Galdino lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

He was most likely going to die after this, but seeing your smile was all worth it. He could die happy, even knowing that Crocodile would probably drain him of life later. 

You, however, didn’t notice the longing look Galdino gave you as you open the door to the office. 

“Well, I got all the votes!” 

“Well, who won?” Buggy immediately jumps forward and steals the clipboard from you. He notices that Crocodile and Mihawk hardly have any, with only Crocodile have a mark. “See I wo…” 

His face darkened as he noticed he had only seven votes. 

“What’s the matter, Buggy?” Crocodile smirked. “Can’t handle the fact you lost?” 

“I… wha…” Buggy grips the clipboard roughly, nearly snapping it in half. “How the hell did (Y/n) get all the votes!?” 

Crocodile and Mihawk are caught off guard. 

“Wait, what? (Y/n) won?” Crocodile repeated. 

“I thought I told you to be fair and not cheat!” Mihawk accused you, his golden hawk eyes glaring into yours. 

“I-it wasn’t my fault! Alvida was the one who put my name on the list!” You try to defend yourself. 

“Give me that-” Crocodile snaps as he swipes the poll from Buggy’s hand. Crocodile grunts as he notices page after page marked with tallies from the employees choosing you. He sees Mihawk has none, but that his name has one mark (Daz, of course), and one crossed off (that bastard, Galdino-). Given Crocodile’s attentiveness, he does recognize that yours and Alvida’s handwriting is different, so your story is credible. He huffs and tosses the clipboard, making Mihawk lean over curiously. 

“Not even one vote…” he murmurs. 

Buggy, meanwhile, is distraught, crying on the floor and banging it repeatedly. 

“It’s not fair! Not fair at all! I hate this! I’m the star!” Buggy wails out loud. 

At first, Crocodile did this as a joke to satiate Buggy, but even his own ego is hurt by this new poll. 

“I take it back, you’re getting docked again,” Crocodile threatens, pointing his cigar at you. 

“What?! But I spent all day getting this with the promise of money!” 

“I changed my mind! I wanted a good poll, not whatever the hell this was!” Crocodile yells back. 

“Recount! Recount this!” Buggy shouts. 

“I refuse to lose this competition. Give me an hour, I will win this,” Mihawk says, pushing himself off his couch as he walks out the door to do who knows what. 

The ensuing commotion causes some of the Cross Guild members to peek through the door and watch Buggy screaming in agony at losing while you’re sobbing at the fact you’re losing money due to this dumb poll. 

Alvida rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. 

“Would you guys cut this noise out? It’s driving me mad!” 

“Alvida! This is all your fault!” Buggy yells at Alvida in tears. “I was supposed to win, not (Y/n)!” 

Alvida frowns at Buggy and twirls her mace in her hands. “Are you questioning my decisions?” 

Buggy gulps as he sees the mace casting a shadow over him. 

“N-no, not at all!” He quickly corrects himself, praying Alvida will not maim him to death. 

“That’s what I thought.” 

[pippytmi]

kacy au + a prompt from this list: "this is the first time I’m living on my own and my parents decided to spontaneously drop by in a few hours to see how I’m doing pls let me borrow some cleaning supplies and food so that my parents will believe I’m a functioning, responsible adult who totally cleans and doesn’t just have condiments and eggs in my fridge AU”

////////

“Hey! Hi, you’re—you're 8C, right?”

Kate nearly drops her bag at the sudden voice and its proximity, entirely unused to any kind of attention whatsoever. Embarrassingly, her first response is to reach for a gun that isn’t there, succeeding only in pulling out her keys as a makeshift weapon.

“Whoa,” the stranger before Kate says, raising both hands up. She looks vaguely familiar, dark eyes and curly hair and a short enough stature that Kate presumes she won’t be a real threat. “Is that a…key? No offense, but I don't think that would stab very well.” She squints up at Kate suddenly, almost like she’s trying to figure her out. “Please don't test that theory.”

Kate can only hurriedly lower said keys, feels her cheeks burn under the scrutiny. “Sorry,” she says. “I guess I’m a little jumpy.”

“It’s all good, I totally get it,” the stranger says cheerfully. “There’s not really a welcoming committee around these parts.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Kate asks slowly, cautiously on guard once more. She had first moved into this apartment two months ago, so it’s a little late for a welcome-to-the-neighborhood kind of thing.

“It could be,” the woman says, and she holds out her hand. “I’m Lucy. You might know me better as 12B, I’m the one always throwing empty bottles at the landlord’s head.”

Kate just stares back, accepting the handshake a beat later than socially acceptable. “I…didn’t know anyone did that, actually.”

“Oh it’s fine,” Lucy’s quick to reassure her. “He hasn’t found out it’s me.”

“Okay.” Kate is still very, very confused as to what Lucy of 12B (who throws water bottles at people) could possibly want. Or why she has decided to introduce herself in such a strange manner.

“Sorry to bug you," Lucy says, “but you’re kind of my last hope. I’ve been trying to find one friendly neighbor in this shithole, and so far, everyone has been shutting their doors in my face. You’re kind of on another level since you tried to shank me, but I am completely willing to forget that if you can let me borrow some stuff.”

“I didn’t try to…” Kate trails off as Lucy gazes up at her with such a hopeful expression that her resolve immediately weakens. “What kind of stuff?”

“Nothing major,” Lucy says. “Long story short, my parents decided to drop in on me, and I basically have nothing in my place. Any chance you can lend me some cleaning supplies? And maybe some groceries? I will one hundred percent pay you back. I just need them to think I’m an actual functioning human being.”

“I guess I can see what I have,” Kate says reluctantly, gripping her groceries a little tighter to her chest. “Come in, I’ll get you everything you need.”

This is probably a bad idea. Scratch that—it is definitely a bad idea, and Curtis will actually kill her for this, but Kate invites this literal stranger into her (government-assigned) home and leaves Lucy alone in order to briefly dash into her room and lock up the gun kept in the bottom of her purse.

Lucy, at the very least, stays firmly in the living room where Kate left her, though her eyes obviously wander around the room. “I like the color,” she says, gesturing to Kate’s couch. “Funky.”

Kate grimaces. “It was the only one they had,” she says of that neon-green monstrosity.

“Well, I think it’s really cool,” Lucy says. With Kate back, she seems emboldened, takes a turn about the room with a curious half-smile. “Your place seems smaller than mine. How much are you paying? Because if it’s the same as mine, I can totally get the landlord with a bottle for you.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Kate says. “Um, I think I should have everything you need in the kitchen.” She ushers Lucy right over, gestures to the fridge and says, “You can pick whatever you want for food. I’ll get the cleaning supplies from under the sink.” Still on edge, she crouches down to retrieve everything while watching Lucy out of the corner of her eye.

If Lucy can feel Kate staring, she doesn’t show it; she happily accepts the invitation to rummage through the fridge, clanking of bottles and rustling of bags audible. Finally, Kate focuses on the task at hand, and packs the basics into a plastic bag: bleach, window cleaner, Lysol.

“Okay, this might be more unbelievable than having nothing in my house,” Lucy suddenly declares. “Do you have anything good to eat?”

Kate lifts her head. “What?”

“This is all health food and green juice, 8C,” Lucy says. Pauses. “Oh fuck. I never asked for your name.”

Honestly, Kate forgot she hadn’t, either. “It’s—”

“I really hope you’re not a serial killer,” Lucy continues, as if Kate isn’t even in the room and she is just musing aloud. “That probably should’ve been my first question. Can we start over? Here. 8C, are you a serial killer?”

Kate blinks. “No,” she says. “But I also don’t think serial killers would tell you if they were.”

“Fair enough,” Lucy says, and peculiarly enough, she doesn’t seem threatened at all by the possibility. Obviously she is not afraid to be in unfamiliar situations with unfamiliar people, and Kate wonders if she should rethink her assumption that Lucy is not a threat. “So what’s your name, then?”

“...Kate.”

“Kate,” Lucy repeats. “Hm. It’s not what I was expecting, but it fits.” With that information, she just turns around and…continues going through Kate’s fridge. “Are you single?”

Kate coughs. “W-what?”

“Single people always have those sad frozen meals, at least,” Lucy says. “I do too, normally, but I haven’t hit the grocery store in a while.” She opens the freezer and actually whoops at the sight of Marie Callender's finest. “Jackpot! I will take these off your hands.”

“And your parents will…be fine with that?” Kate decides that, overall, she is utterly confused by Lucy the neighbor from 12B. There's no other possible way to put it.

“Oh not at all, but it is what they expect,” Lucy says. “I’ll take some of your health foods too, I guess. Let them think I’m trying to stop bad habits.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear with a self-conscious laugh. “I mean, only if that’s fine with you.”

And something about that moment where Lucy becomes a little awkward—when she bashfully looks down at her feet, then looks back up at Kate from underneath her long eyelashes—it endears Kate completely. At the very least, it makes her relax, stomach twisting in itself in a tell-tale weakness for pretty girls in trouble. “Sure,” she says. “Do your parents like wine? You can take a bottle, I have a few.”

“I would never turn down wine,” Lucy says, brightening. “I don’t even care that I don’t have wine glasses. We can drink out of paper cups for all I care.”

Kate opens the liquor cabinet to make her selection: a nice red that had been a gift from her mother. (She’ll just have to email her later and say she loved it when her mother asks.) “I would offer to lend you some, but I also don’t have wine glasses,” she finds herself saying, then immediately regrets it, because Lucy obviously expects an explanation and all Kate seems to be able to do is make a fool out of herself today.

“Are you also a connoisseur of paper cups? Kate from 8C, I think we’re going to be friends,” Lucy says easily, and Kate’s lips twitch from the effort of biting back a smile.

“I actually like to drink wine out of mason jars,” Kate says. “I know it’s a little weird…”

Lucy has absolutely no qualms about smiling, and her smile lights up her whole face in a way Kate can’t look away from. “I think that’s cute,” she says, and Kate’s face burns so hot she knows that her status as this building’s number one gay disaster is 100% secured.

“Here,” Kate barely remembers to blurt out, handing off the wine bottle. “And let me get you a bag for the food too.”

After everything has been successfully squared away, Lucy is left with three large bags that will definitely require more than one trip. “Thank you,” she says. “Seriously. You’ve saved my life and I promise I will replace everything I’ve stolen today.”

“It’s no problem,” Kate says. “Do you need help taking it to your place?”

Lucy feigns a double-take, mouth falling open in an exaggerated gasp. “Already trying to invite yourself over? Wow, 8C. At least buy a girl dinner first.”

Kate’s mouth inevitably twists into that damned smile anyway. “Is that not what the frozen meals are? Technically, I did buy them.”

“Touché,” Lucy says, biting her lip. “You are…surprising.” She snags the smaller of the bags which contains the cleaning supplies, then swings it over her shoulder. “Alright, you can walk me home. But no funny business.”

“Okay,” Kate says with a laugh, taking the last two bags herself.

“But,” Lucy says as they walk outside, “you officially have a rain check.”

“For dinner?” Despite the circumstances of Kate’s arrival here—despite the looming undercover op that is about to consume her life—she feels light. Hopeful, even.

Lucy throws a wink over her shoulder. “For the funny business,” she says, all but skipping in the direction of her apartment.

Kate, meanwhile, freezes in place. Nevermind about Lucy being a threat to her life—she’s just going to be a threat to Kate's sanity.

(Which…may or may not be a bad thing. It’s to be determined, at any rate). 

[sundewhasaudhd]

Fuck it, I know I said I wouldn’t post things about my AU’s out of order, but it’s my blog, and do want I fucking want

Sad TNT duo scene (tw: knives, suicide)

(PS, this thing’s pretty long, so you might wanna go grab some potatocorn or something):

W: *Looking down sadly at his reflection in his knife*

Q: *Practically slams open this man’s fucking door like he isn’t breaking and entering* Jesus fucking Christ Wilbur, where the fuck have you been?! I…people were really starting to worry about you.

W: (to himself) You, you cared?

Q: What?

W: Nothing. Why are you here?

Q: Did you not hear me dipshit, looking for you. I hadn’t seen you in a few days, I was starting to get concerned.

W: That feels a bit dramatic, don’t you think?

Q: Not when you’re at my border bugging me everyday, no

W: …

Q: You ok?

W: Yeah, yeah, I’m fine

Q: You sure? There were a lot of pauses in that four word sentence. Y’know if you have something you want to say to me you can say it

W: Yeah, since when has that been true?

Q: Excuse me 

W: Never mind, that’s not important right now

Q: Feels pretty damn important, but ok, sure

W: *takes a deep breathe* Quackity, kill me

Q: W-w-w

W: It’s perfect, I won’t be able to hurt you or anyone else, and you won’t have to put up with me anymore 

Q: Wilbur if this is your idea of “a joke” it’s not very funny

W: What about me asking you to kill me sounds like a joke to you? It’s not that hard if that’s what you’re concerned about. There are a bunch of knives in here, just take your pick. There are some over there, I think I have one near my bed, plus I’m sure you plenty weapons in your room. *Wilbur’s voice starts fading out* And you don’t have to make it painless if you don’t want to… *his voice is completely drowned out by either ringing or static, I haven’t fully decided yet*

Q: N-no you said you wouldn’t leave me! Th-that you’d be here for me! You promised you wouldn’t leave me again! You promised!

W: That’s what I do Quackity. I lie. I lie and I hurt and that’s all I’ll ever be good for. I can’t change that, no one can, which is why it’d be better for everyone if you just killed me

Q: I- no I’m not gonna kill you Wilbur!

W: Quackity, I want you to look me in the eye and tell me a single reason why I still deserve to live, why I should still be here tomorrow

Q: I-

W: You can’t. I know you can’t. And that’s okay. That’s great even! That’s you realizing how badly I’ve hurt you, and that you shouldn’t want me around *placing his knife in Quackity’s hand, which his dumbass doesn’t notice, because Wilbur’s touching his face and he’s gay* I don’t deserve to live Quackity. *starts moving Quackity’s hands (the knife) towards his chest* You should know that more then anyone. The only thing I’ve ever given you is pain, especially when you’re already hurting. You’re just doing yourself a disservice by letting me live.

W: Y’know, I really will miss you. You’re my favorite person, and I love spending every second I can with you. But that’s really selfish of me. At least you won’t miss have to miss me. Hell, anyone with half a brain cell won’t miss me

Q: What the fuck are you on about, of course I’d miss you if you died!

W: No, you won’t. I mean, come on, why would you. You hate me, remember

Q: I don’t h- *sees the knife in his hands, and then immediately drops it* Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you?!

W: EVERYTHING!!! Every single decision I’ve ever made was at the expense of someone else! I’m trying to do the only good thing I can with my pathetic existence by ending it, which YOU don’t seem to understand! 

Q: Because that’s stupid! Yeah, you’ve hurt people, so what? We’ve all hurt someone else at some point!

W: CAN YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DO SOMETHING USEFUL FOR ONCE IN YOUR FUCKING LIFE!

Q: …

W: I’m- this is exactly what I’m talking about. This is all I do. So, just pick up the knife, and put an end to my pathetic existence

Q: No! I won’t kill you Wilbur

W: Why are you being so stubborn about this?

Q: Because I love you, ok! I love you a lot. You’re the only constant in my life, and I really don’t wanna think about what would happen if you weren’t here. You’re my everything. And I *shaky sigh* I just can’t lose you again

W: …

Q: Fuck, just forget I said anything. I’ll just leave and pray that your not dead tomorrow mornin-

W: *hugs in gay* I love you too 

Q: *starts crying while hugging Wilbur tighter*

IF YOU LIKE MY SCRIPTS, PLEASE REBLOG :3

[immeasurablesaladagere]

may i get sum lil chase headcanons pretty pls :3

YES I've been waiting for this request!

“Wilson, where do babies come from?” (Genuinely forgot and just wants to know, House and/or Foreman told him to ask)

Politely reminds people who swear around him that “That’s a bad word.” And manages to sound like a condescending parent even in his little high-pitched voice.

His voice gets really soft and high when he regresses.

Very polite little sweetheart. Draws pictures for people, says his pleases and thank you’s, makes a point of saying goodnight to people, etc.

Really hates alcohol being around him while he’s regressed. He usually just gets quiet if he sees it but god forbid someone is actively drinking or heavily intoxicated, he shuts right down or cries and it's hard to settle him.

Has more inhibitions about crying in front of others and in general if he’s on the upper end of his age range (6-8), but on the younger end cries pretty easily.

Scarily good at hiding, not good if he’s doing it because he’s upset and very very not good if he’s regressed and upset in the hospital.

Bit House one (1) time.

Doesn’t like reading anything that isn’t a simple children’s book even if they’re technically below his reading level for his regressed age. He likes things to be simple and straightforward when he's little.

Likes drawing with sidewalk chalk and colouring in general. His favourite drawing utensil are those thick Crayola markers that bleed through the paper.

Avoids being an inconvenience at all costs to the point that he keeps quiet about what he wants  or needs to his own detriment. He needs his caregiver to remember to feed him or water him like a plant because if they don’t he won’t say anything.

That being said, he will throw tantrums/have meltdowns if his needs go unmet for long periods of time. When he’s really upset he does that yell-wailing thing. He’s intense but then calms down pretty quickly and is just exhausted.

Gets very fussy if he’s tired. If he’s feeling younger than 5 he needs his nap time! This is a warning, not advice.

Reads children’s bibles and watches a lot of Veggie Tales and The Wiggles

Looney-Toon enjoyer.

Semi-verbal in baby/toddlerspace. He'll say one or two words and otherwise just make little noises.

Favourite snack is cheese and crackers with a bit of fruit, usually grapes (he likes to eat all three at the same time in little sandwiches).

Regresses to cope with stress, reclaim his childhood, and even to have fun sometimes. It's mostly voluntary, but he does have a few triggers like aggressive drunks or something that reminds him too much of his childhood, positive or negative, like a nostalgic toy for example.

If his regression is triggered he has a hard time getting back out of it, but otherwise his hold on his littlespace is frustratingly weak. He has a hard time staying small when he's trying to be, and House, Wilson, and Cameron help keep him in it by helping him with things and actively mentioning how little he is.

"Ah ah, you're too small to put the cookies in the oven. Why don't you help put the milk away instead? Two hands, okay?'

When he's little he has this doe-eyed innocent look to him, and anyone who knows him can see it immediately.

Very naturally curious about the world, nature specifically. Likes looking at and keeping bugs in jars, collecting leaves and rocks that are cool, etc.

Gives his caregivers bouquets of dandelions. Cameron was so flattered when she got one that she bought fertilizer to keep the flowers alive in a glass of water as long as possible.

[enbyleighlines]

bugs

Oooh, interesting prompt!

So, contrary to what might be expected, I don’t think Snormaiden is the type of girl who freaks out when she sees a bug. This girl basically grew up outside. She uses her tail to catch fish, she likes sleeping under the stars, and she’s often sitting in meadows and making flower crowns.

Now, I don’t think she would be too pleased if a big, scary looking bug started crawling on her, nor would she appreciate an infestation indoors. But as long as the bugs are outside and keeping to themselves? Well, Snorkmaiden is perfectly fine with them. In fact, there are even bugs that she adores, such as butterflies, dragonflies, and ladybugs.

Snufkin, of course, loves all manner of creatures, including bugs. The only ones that really bother him are mosquitos and horseflies, but he knows various homemade remedies to keep himself smelling very unappealing to them.

And Moomintroll is very neutral towards bugs. He does not particularly care for them, but he’s not afraid of them, either, and he certainly doesn’t mind capturing them to let them back outside. He always offers to be the one to do it, in fact. Snorkmaiden and Snufkin humor his supposed “acts of heroism”, although neither of them would mind doing it in his place. That, and Snufkin could probably just coax the bugs to leave by playing a tune on his harmonica. But Moomintroll would much rather show off for his partners.

Luckily, Snorkmaiden and Snufkin are gracious enough to indulge him.

The only bugs that Snufkin won’t let Moomintroll remove from the house are spiders, because he likes that they eat mosquitos. And while Snorkmaiden prefers it when the spiders stay out of sight, she isn’t one to freak out if she comes across one. She might startle a little, of course. But then she will simply shoo them away with a flick of her tail and remind them that it’s impolite to sneak up on people, especially since they’re being so kind as to allow them free reign of the house.

So overall, I would say they are a fairly bug-positive trio.

Thanks for the ask!

[bumblehoneybee]

You know those faceless yellow almost crash test dummies from the Grabpack videos? I love imagining the former employee as one of those who’s a recluse to society already. So, what if the reason the Farmer could do all those crazy things was because they were one of those? Maybe they just take to wearing things to hide their face, but they are clearly not fully human looking. The Farmer definitely withdrew from seeing or speaking to people after Playtime turned them into… this. (They still text, write letters, and the whole shebang to their parents. It’s just. They won’t—can’t visit no matter how much they want to.)

Anyway, the Farmer found that running a farm was much more freeing than having to constantly hide in the city. They gradually build privacy fences, make friends even if tentatively, and just live! It’s freeing, it’s nice not having to hide as much, they have a non-human roommate named Krobus who gets them, they—

The damned factory is a few miles away from Pelican Town. No wonder some of these roads looked familiar besides the one to Grandpa’s farm. I can imagine the Farmer/Ex-Employee/Victim avoids Playtime Co. property like the plague for the next few years. They don’t have to get involved in that hellhole, they don’t owe Playtime anything! So a few years pass by with them continuing to farm, monster hunt, and fish in peace. Maybe they will eventually show a few people what they really look like. They have cautiously showed Emily since no one will believe her.

This avoidance eventually comes to a boiling point when they receive the letter and old commercial. Farmer’s set on a war path because they can hear the Prototype’s whispering in the background of the video. If that amalgamation wants to play this game, they’ll beat it on hard mode! What’s a few man made horrors to the creatures hidden in the mines?!

Player asks a few of the people they trust to watch their farm for a week: Sebastian, Emily, Robin, and maybe Shane (he’s a natural with the chickens). They cite having some family business that’ll take them out of town for a week or so… Safe to say, the events of Poppy Playtime get wrapped up in record time due to the now veteran monster Hunter Farmer.

They blast or hack through any doors that don’t open, disarm (not literally) the smaller toys.

The others are getting saved whether they like it or not—if the Prototype isn’t doing all this for a good reason, then they are setting off one of their experimental bombs.

(Sorry for the ramble. I like combining ideas.)

god i can see the player being that meme of "i'm a pacifist but-" while combining copper and such into cherry bombs to throw at things

poppy is so. . . overwhelmed, because while she's glad she's gotten her angel, they're. . . a lot more than what she was expecting. so many bombs. . . and the sword that's the head of a giant bug? eugh. . .

kissy couldn't care less EXCEPT she wants the bug head so bad PLEASE angel can she use it on the mini critters they're so annoying angel please-

dogday. . . dogday is really thrown for a loop, because while poppy had told him the angel was a previous experiment gone off the rails, he wasn't expecting them to be this. . . determined? they just mow down everything in their path, not caring what stands in their way. he's happy they're here! so happy! but my god WHY is there a shadow man giving you a gun???

[gx-gameon]

Just because tides and currents would work like that in YGO, Jaden finds three certain cards have washed up into the well on the island when he goes to get the Ojamas. He looks at them and then calls his Grandpa asking if he could pretty pretty please send over two certain cards his Dad has because he's about to pull the best "epic gamer move" of all time on the cult trying to take over the island.

Cue Jaden using Exodia on Sartorius in the final battle of Year 2 and making people question as to how long Jaden's had Exodia and just how angry do you have to make him to get it pulled on you.

Okay this is hilarious. Because you know those cards are waterlogged. Bastion’s cards were “ruined” from spending one night in the sea so I doubt they would hold up.

But let’s say they did. Raphael’s cards were okay after his ship wreck but that’s because he cared for them. We will put this down to the spirit of Exodia being so angry that it got separated from its master grandson and threw into the ocean that it kept its cards useable. If any spirit can do it it’s Exodia.

Jaden goes down into that well to grab the Ojama brothers and snap Chazz out of his cult. But he can hear a sound. Like drumming. It wasn’t there last year. He looks at the Ojama brothers and is like “what’s up with the drumming? You guys got a loud roommate” and he’s joking around but they look terrified and tell him not to go over there, that the spirit is ANGRY.

Jaden doesn’t listen but the Ojamas make enough of a stink that he removes them from the well first before dropping back in to check out this “angry spirit”

And thank goodness he did. Because he comes across three very weathered Exodia cards. The great beast isn’t complete but the three pieces together are enough for Jaden to vaguely communicate and feel the RAGE pouring off the beast.

And at first Jaden is stunned because what idiot threw three pieces of Exodia down the well? But then he truly sees the cards. They are waterlogged and shouldn’t be useable. Who treated their cards like this? He’s upset for Exodia.

He walks towards the great beast spirit and can feel the Rage rolling off of it. “I’m sorry this happened to you. No card deserves to be treated like this.” It’s enough to appease the spirit so Jaden can move closer to the cards. But when he reaches for them the spirit pushes back against him. He’s waiting for someone. HIS duelist.

But Jaden’s close enough to get a good look at the cards. The head, the left arm and the right leg. And his mind flashed back to a story his Dad and Uncle Joey would tell him. Specifically why he should never trust his cards to strangers and why Weevil Underwood was a bug. He looks at the cards again.

There is no way…

“You wouldn’t happen to know a duelist by the name of Yugi Muto? Would you?” The spirits angry lifts. And Jaden suddenly feels like he can breathe again. He didn’t realized how much pressure had been in the room.

He and the spirit stared each other down and Jaden fumbled for his phone and pulled up a picture of himself with his Dad and Great Grandpa. He turns the phone to the spirit. “Are these your duelist?” The spirit can’t talk but Jaden can see it nodding at him. He smiles “that’s my Dad and Great Grandpa. I can take you back to them if you want.”

Exodia agrees. What were the chances his true duelist great grandson would find him.

Jaden gets back out of the well and takes off. He takes a picture of the three pieces and sends it to the family group chat with “you won’t believe what I found!!!!” And then runs off to free Chazz.

Later that night he’s finally able to look at his phone again. He had 50+ new messages and about 15 missed calls from just Gramps. He calls his gramps back and there’s a lot of shouting and sobbing because Solomon Muto loves his cards.

Jaden promises to send them to him as soon as he can but he doesn’t trust the cult to not look through his our going mail. And Gramps is like no no, I have a better idea

One conversation of Grampa looking at Seto like “remember that time you sent me to the hospital? I’m cashing in a favor!” Seto: “you’ve cashed that in 50 times already.” Solomon: “and I’ll keep cashing it in. What are you going to do tell your husband’s beloved grandfather, the one you once put in the hospital, no?”

Seto just sighs. He hates this family sometimes.

Then Solomon tells him his plan and Seto is onboard right away.

Jaden gets a special delivery straight from Kaiba Corp as the “winner of the something random sweepstakes.” Syrus, Hasselberry and Chazz are super confused, and Jaden wished his family members were better at lying.

Until he opens it to find the last to pieces of Exodia. He’s deeply touched that Gramps would send them to him. He’s also about to have the time of his life using them.

Cue Jaden pulling them out against Sartorius and everyone going “since when does Jaden have those????” “Forget that how mad do you think Sartorius made him for him to use it against him???”

Now the fun part of this is next year…

Is Adrian Gecko after Jaden from the get go??

[lifmera]

hi mera!! i hope you’re having a lovely day! could i please request a hazbin hotel, chainsaw man, and twisted wonderland matchup if it isn’t too much?

pronouns | she/they

preference | it doesn’t matter!

personality | very shy, but once i’m comfortable with you i become very chaotic! i tend to be mean affectionately when i get comfortable and just say what’s on my mind without much thought cause i know i can trust you. i am the type of the person to tell you if what you’re doing could get you hurt or in trouble in some way. i’m also very big about honesty so it’s rare that i ever tell a lie, especially to people close to me. hence why i want people to be straight up and not lie to me. not very big on people i don’t know well touching me, but if you’re close to me you can hug me if you’d like.

when i’m frustrated or angry, it happens often but it’s never truly that deep. like i’ll be angry but it won’t be for long. i do lash out at people, but it is often not just one thing that caused me to do it, it’s a build of of things over time.

being sad is just the same way, it builds up over time until it boils over. i cry a lot when i’m sad, same with when i’m angry, because i don’t know where to let out my emotions.

appearance | my hair color changes often, but right now it’s blue and purple! my hair cut is a wolf cut with bangs! i’m very pale with pale blue eyes and i’m about “5’3” to “5’4” in height! my style is grunge or alt, but i like to keep it simple! so just cargo pants, a plain t-shirt, and some high tops and jacket will do!

hobbies | archery, writing, reading, drawing, collecting, gaming

likes | 80s music, vampiric aesthetics, victorian fashion, cats

dislikes | bugs, spiders, thunder, loud noises, arguing

lil extras | istp | pisces

i’m a very all over the place person so i hope this is okay! thank you! <3

HI HUN!!! IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE. IM TRYING 😭🩷

I’ve decided to pair you with…. CHARLIE, DENJI & MALLEUS

Pretty wide variety… i know!

She LOVES your personality once you start to become comfortable.

She loves to be chaotic with you. Shes just a chaotic energy in total.

She’d love if you kept her AND other people out of trouble! Thats why she loves you so much :)

Shes also huge about honesty. Did you see what happened with vaggie!

She understands boundaries. Although she’s probably huge on touch, I feel like she wouldn’t do anything unless you initiated it.

When you lash out, she tries to help you not bottling up your emotions, and talking to her anytime something happened, she’ll love to hear whats going on.

She loves your outfits and your hair!! She thinks its super unique, and would say “opposites attract”

DENJI

Chaotic trio w power!!

If you playfully are mean to him he’ll do the same. I also think he’d try to bite you as a joke. Like chomp chomp.

Hes HUGE on honesty. Like what happened with makima…? Yikes..

Please help him stay out of trouble. He’s always doing something hella nuts or putting himself in danger. Although most of the times he prob won’t listen, he might!!

I think he might be a little annoying, so it’ll make you get angry, but if you talked about it to him.. 100% he’ll try to fix it!

Loves how u look. Honestly probably fell for you bc of it!!

He would probably game with you. And he’d enjoy it so much and be like.. “could you teach me…”

Teach him all your hobbies. PLEASE. HE’D LOVE TO DO IT ALL. He’ll suck butt at drawing and painting but please. It’d be so fun.

He’ll kill all the bugs for you <3

I honestly think at first he’d be scared of thunder, but he’d start to like it, and help you!!

MALLEUS

Definitely found out abt you thru Lilia. Lilia approached you cus of your style and was like… we need to be bsfs.

He’s also pretty quiet, but when you get comfortable around him, he’d LOVE how chaotic you are.

I think he HATES when people are too uptight. And will look to you for a break!!

Malleus might be a frustrating partner since he seems closed off, but i promise its just cause he doesn’t have friends and he needs to learn :(

He’d be so happy to find out the reason you were shy at first is bc you’re awkward and you aren’t scared of him like everyone else.

He’d be fine with whatever you did to him. Honestly if you lash out at him, he’d be a little taken aback but he’d let you let all your emotions out, and try to help you through it all.

I also think he’d suck at art. At first. I think he’d pick it up super quickly. He’s pretty good at everything.

I think at first he’d also suck at comforting but after a while he’d be super great at it.

~~

I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY <3

[hope-to-hell]

If not for love of money. A.M. x Reader. Let’s suppose for a moment that he lived— such is our privilege. The story ends when we say it does. The epilogue for this man will be written in blood, but it will be written. Smut, angst, f!reader.

————

This isn’t a story, not really. Not when there are weeks and miles between you, not when secrets are nested within one another such that you’ll never reach their center. How could there be a story in this disconnect?

You’ve never heard his real name and anyway it doesn’t matter: you won’t find him until he wants to be found— or more precisely, until he wants to find you. It’ll be on a fine spring evening when he appears in the hallway of a far-too-expensive restaurant, steady and calm, eyes dark like wine.

Hey. I was in the middle of dinner. Which you won’t really say because he’s got a hand over your mouth and the other working its way down. He’s precise here as in all things, following the threads that connect people, places, (money, guns, silent deaths, and the way he simply has to look and there you are with your pretty cunt twitching in anticipation as your blood makes an about-face to pool, hotly thrumming, at the apex of your thighs).

He knows because he’s at the center of it all, cutting a thread here and tying off another there. Spider, you call him one evening at that villa by the sea. He presses you up against a marble column and nips his way sharply down your throat. Gonna bind me up and suck me dry? And of course there is no answer but his hand closing around your wrist, turning your palm up to bite down hard on the meat of it; when he presses your hand against his fly, the blooming bruise pulses nearly as hot and insistent as he.

And oh, his heavy hand upon you is a gift; his nails, though short, press aching crescents in your flesh; his teeth are so, so white against the endless night above. Don’t think. Just act. Let him do the thinking for you; let him pin you here between the ache of cold tile against your knees and the firebrand-heat of him as he feeds you his cock. There will be no trace, no evidence, nothing to bind him to this moment. He will give you his seed and then a sip of something strong to wash it down; the drink is bitter and pulls sleep swiftly in its wake, and when tomorrow comes he’s gone again.

You don’t call. You never write.

It’s not for love of money, not really; it’s for the love of being good at the job, for the satisfaction of seeing the exchange go off without a hitch (and— let’s be frank— for the hair-trigger moments when it’s just him and his wits against the impossible.

Improbable.

Whatever.)

It’s about knowing there’s no one else who can do this, not like he can; he follows the threads and cuts away anyone and anything that’s served their purpose. It’s never been you and him against the world— that’s some Bonnie and Clyde bullshit, silly little-girl dreams that have no hold here. It’s him at the helm, steering his way through a vast dark sea, cutting through the waves. This work is in his veins, flowing red and hot. How does a man like this come about? Is he born with an eye toward vicious cunning, winding himself about the bones of the world to take from it as he sees fit? Or is he made, through long years of learning how to bite and tear his way to some nebulous goal?

It’s not like you go to school for this stuff. I just want to understand a little. I’m not gonna ask, I just want—

Ah, ah. Hush, now. Be good for me and take it, won’t you, pretty thing. And so he turns your mind toward other things, to salt and skin and the gasps that catch thickly in your throat behind the heat of him.

Follow him into the house. Let him scent the air to his satisfaction before he gives you the key. No bugs, no hulking men hiding in the next room, no sniper’s scope watching from across the road. Welcome home, he says. Home— or at least as close to it as you can get— is a quiet place where he can find you when he pleases, with a high wall around the garden. But come next year, home might be grass grown strangely green under the open sky, at least til the dogs come digging ‘round to gnaw your bones. And it wouldn’t be anything personal— it never is.

Despite all this, you wait. Quietly, at first, days bleeding into one another until autumn comes calling again and brings with it an air of fuck it. Go and get him already. You find him in a hospital bed, face slack, seemingly more bandages than man. There is a sense of— not smallness, exactly; it’s more like seeing him from far away. I didn’t think anyone would come for him. It’s been so long. I wonder who he wa— who he is. Behind the nurse’s words are rumors and whispers, spinning stories about the nameless stranger, what he’d done, who hated him so much they’d torn him near to pieces.

And now here he is, at the end of a trail of crumbs (scraps of overheard conversation, speculation about a handsome John Doe who came in looking like hell and has thus far been too damned stubborn to die, calling all over— your call is important to us, please hold— until someone gives the answer you need and now you will forever hear smooth jazz in the depths of your nightmares). Here he waits inside a body that grows weaker by the day, the echoes of voices and mechanical pulsations filtering in until at last he tears his way up through layers of sleep to find you waiting.

Hey. I, uh. You wanna get out of here?

It’s just that this house wraps itself around him like a coat, like there’s no one else who could be sitting at the kitchen table with you, sipping coffee— cream and sugar, if you please. There’s no harm in a bit of pleasure— moving slowly like it pains him to lift his cup. Everything is temporary. The best you can hope for is to leave your ghost behind.

Huh?

There is something in him now, between serpent and wave, beneath skin that shines with the slick pink of new scars, something thick and hot and greedy. He paces the halls with a burner phone in one hand and a carven walking-stick in the other, picking up loose threads. He breaks, rebuilds, cuts, ties. The cat’s cradle he weaves grows ever stronger; these long months outside the game may have set him back, but he is clever and tenacious and—

He reclines against mounds of cushions, beckoning you to him with the barest motion of his hand. He is softer now, thinner, building himself back piece by piece, but still his sharp teeth shine in the lamplight. He strokes himself slowly, deliberately, eyes unblinking. He says ride me, then like it’s a gift, like he could roll you beneath him, like his body doesn’t begin to shake when he holds himself above you like some crumbling god. Don’t ask if I’m alright. I’ll tell you when I’m not.

Sure. Feel him there, deep in your guts. It’s been a while, hasn’t it, since you’ve had him. So take your time and savor this: heat and slippery wetness and the gut-punch oh when he strikes something incandescent inside you. He sees the tremble of your thighs and says nothing, but his fingers dig into your flesh: five bright points of pain that light your path to the edge.

Count his scars but do not pity him; he has a blade hidden in his walking-stick and even when it’s sheathed, it thrums silver-sharp under his hand. The work has waited for so long and he is aching to pick it up again. Some men are driven by the love of money, of power, or of exploration; but he— he hears the silky whisper of threads weaving together. Soon enough he’ll leave you cold and lonely. And you still don’t know his name.

[coffee-in-veins]

Face Your Failure and how to uproot all of character’s backstory and development in one model or less - a practical guide by RedHook

can anyone tell from that title that i’m salty yet?

so major spoilers ahead about which i couldn’t care less, but people love this game and i want to be polite, and as objective as i can be, so: please be warned, DD2 ending and boss moveset is discussed under Keep reading. if you want to experience the ending for yourself, spoiler free, do not read

Edit: you know, after contemplating about it, i realized - it’s not a bug, it’s a feature (tm.). this is distilled quintessence of everything wrong with this game. it shows you everything, places all cards down and punishes you one almost-last time if you cared or paid attention - the last time will be in the very last cutscene, if you pay attention to the lower part of it. if this, too, doesn’t bother you, you won’t have any issues with this game. if you did, this will be the last nail you needed to lean back and take time to contemplate your choices.

i think they shouldn’t fix this. because this is what Darkest Dungeon had become, and they should be honest about it and their attitude.

so. the big bad boss on the throne has a move called Face Your Failure - which, as the title suggests, summons what the chatacter you select (Come unto thy maker-style) thinks is his biggest failure in life. Para gets her zombie mentor, Barristan gets the spectre of his fallen comrades, Audrey... gets a zombie of the husband who tortured... and... abused her...? Including sexually...? Do you want to tell something by showing this, RH...? Something very, very dubious...?

But I digress. I’m here to show you that writing in DD2 makes no goddamn sense (tm.) by pointing to our beloved rateating highwayman:

Namely, pay close attention to the mob it summons for Dismas

it isn’t too obvious, and the arena is spun wide to see all of the tentacles and the iron crown, so here is a closeup:

notice anything interesting about its weapons? let me give you a hint.

this is the guard from the clown car the stagecoach that Dismas robbed in his backstory, in which the woman and child were. the ones he killed by his reflexes misfiring after the fight was over accidentally “in erratic gunfire”. the ones which spiked his guilt. the ones which pushed him into character development and coming to Hamlet and trying to find redemption. you know? that tiny miny plotpoint thing which was the culmination of his backstory and made him the character who we knew? that passing thing?

and this is the prison guard from his very first shrine:

do you notice the weapon choice? the stagecoach guards have swords while prison guards have batons. and the big bad boss summons a spectre of Dismas biggest failure. with a baton in hand. a prison guard.

I... genuinely dunno what to say, because the implication, unless I’ve lost my mind, is that Dismas’ biggest failure in life was getting out of prison. and this scene in the credits:

makes no goddamn sense (tm.) because this is not his biggest failure - prison is. the locket isn’t tormenting. it’s not shameful. it’s just there. it means nothing. because a cosmic deity which supposedly knows all of existence showed Dismas his biggest fear - and it had nothing to do with killing innocents.

i could’ve chalked it to cuts on model prices. but Audrey received a new model of her deceased husband. if Dis got a spectre of the woman he killed, the ghost of the child staring at him, anything - Reynauld’s corpse half-eaten by the Heart of Darkness for fuck’s sake! - it would’ve been better. but no. he has a prison guard. because who cares. it looks cool and that’s enough.

on a more personal note... i’m happy i didn’t have the money to buy early access. i genuinely am. i’m tired. i know i would never buy it, now. not after their eradication of Reynauld, not after how they butchered Dismas. if you can enjoy the game - more power to you. i’m not here to police your fun. but for me... DD2 got cancelled during development stage, and only thanks to Shibs’ vigilence we got to see the models and animations. but nothing else exists because accepting it is a far too tall of an ask.

now i crawl back into my cozy reymas saltmines.

[demigodofhoolemere]

Please tell me you are not still buying the mind control garbage in 2023. And no one has to do anything to "merit" someone being angry with them. Sometimes, when you feel hurt, you lash out! That's a way pain can work! In Thor Loki lashed out at the Frost Giants for the pain he felt about his origin and he lashed out at Thor for the pain he felt about not feeling good enough and in the Avengers he lashed out at Earth because of the pain he felt about everything leading up to that moment and he felt like Earth was something Thor treasured. Literally nothing in the Avengers hinted at Thanos controlling him that was just a bullshit fandom theory because everyone wanted to believe he couldn't do bad things of his own agency. But he could. Hurt people hurt people.

I never said he wasn’t emotionally messed up. His emotions were certainly out of control, he had a big breakdown in the first movie and definitely was still not okay in The Avengers. Yes, pain doesn’t always go hand in hand with being rational, you can get hurt and angry people who didn’t mean anything. Yes, he lashed out at the Frost Giants because of his origin. Yes, he took things out on Thor, though I’d say that his negative feelings about Thor had less to do with Thor himself and more to do with the culmination of centuries of being made to feel lesser than him thanks to Odin and other Asgardians (which is what I meant in the original post — not that someone necessarily has to do anything to merit another person having a negative emotional response towards them, but that Thor himself wasn’t the direct cause of the anger, it was pent up because of a million different things but not because of any specific thing Thor himself had done). Yes, in his warped state of mind there was satisfaction in attacking Thor’s beloved Earth, but it was still Thanos who sent him there.

I’ll give you those things, certainly. But The Avengers could literally only be clearer about Thanos’s influence if it put it in neon lights. I’m not saying he didn’t have some measure of control. I’m not saying he was 100% not at fault because he can’t do anything wrong ever. Most of his fans have never said that, but people sure like to spread the idea that his fanbase is just blind and thinks he’s a pure baby who could never do something terrible. We’re often the first ones to remind people about what he did to the Jotuns. For most of his fans it has never been about him being pure or something. Part of his appeal as a dynamic character is how messed up in the head he is. What it’s about is being objective and fair, no matter who it is.

The Avengers ABSOLUTELY shows what is going on. The idea that Thanos was behind it has never been a theory. It is in the movie, and Marvel themselves later confirmed in Infinity War that Thanos sent him, and clarified in a description on their official website that the scepter WAS partially impacting his mind and his feelings. Again:

I don’t know what else I’m supposed to take this stuff to mean, especially, “He will make you long for something sweet as pain,” and Bruce outright saying that Thanos sent Loki to New York. This isn’t about trying to justify, redeem, or make innocent a character I like by applying a headcanon that takes 100% of the responsibility away. Looking at the facts in front of me and trying to be fair, no matter who it is, is just how I operate. As far as I’m concerned, the facts in front of me are that there was always more to this and that while Loki has done bad things of his own accord it’s still only fair to take into account the areas where it’s not all his fault.

Finally: please don’t come into my inbox and swear at me. I always tag my rants and put them under a read more for a reason — so that the people who won’t like them don’t have to see them. I try to stay in my lane when I’m bugged by something because I know not everyone sees things the same way. I only ask for the same level of consideration in return. You don’t have to anonymously come into a stranger’s inbox and be rude to them over something that wasn’t meant for you.

[blobbyboiblob]

Alr I dunno why I’m doin this- boredom maybe.

I, as someone in the Undertale AUs fandom can easily say that you’ll fine two types of people:

1. The type that respect everyones choices, the creators choices as well as headcanons and ships with reasonable prices!

And than 2. People who say their ships are better and hate on others with minimal information or because they used the fact a creators first language isn’t English to make horrid assumptions on characters

I ain’t trying to hate but it’s obvious.. that’s just how the cycle is.

We must remember that fan made characters are FAN MADE

They have creators who either worked hard or barely worked bug as ling as the creator holds the character(s) by the leash all you can hope for is your fanon or headcanons to save you..

Which their okay they influence people but others just don’t- I have saw genuinely toxic ships by all angles even in CANON they’d be toxic and people would fight for the ship because of, “Oh I kin them so I know them better!!!” “Oh it’s cute!!!!” Etcetc.

Opinions are allowed but when they influence genuinely bad things? Gets real bad- you are allowed your own opinions just don’t shove them down peoples mouths and shut them up cuz everyone is allowed every horizon and chance!

Like say Duelette, my friend loves that ship and scrolling through the blogs and all the stuff my friend collected the ship is actually sweet! Others may not like it but it’s sweet and was canon until complications arose!

And not to hate in Poth but it was never actually canon.. and unfortunately no matter what some hope how things went down for them was terrible!

A choice is a choice lack of genuine evidence is lack of words backing up your voice 👍! And please, I know most people in the Undertale AU’s fandom may be adults but they usually don’t act like it- I watched a grown adult silence and shiz talk a good ship all because they shipped a ship that was never canon(they falsely said it was), and backed themselves up on why the good ship was bad using stuff from the bad ship with no genuine proof.

We all require what we need to grow, some won’t ever! For a good and healthy experience meet people and explore horizons you may see something new or learn more about stuff!

:D