#flight of the hamsters

[sporeclan]

Since it's taking me so long to get moons done, here's a lil preview of the family tree i've been working on!!

[strawbebbyy-fr]

sometimes the hyperfixation makes you scry fandragons you never even plan on making. (theyre the main cast of p3, lol. the last guy is one of my fandragons that DOES exist, but he goes with the group.)

[sl33pyn1ght]

[ Found this in my drafts]

Something Something... I got this from twitter... something... (Old design of Snowycotton)

[roseofcards90]

I am calm I do not acknowledge the thing that made me angry 😌 I am calm

[sobbingscripter]

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼wc. 2248🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

From a young age, you had the ability to absolutely ruin what would be a heartfelt moment.

“Mark… you’re half Viltrumite.”

“You’re half little girl too. Chicken.”

Nolan lets out a breath, blue eyes narrowing at your intrusion but he doesn’t have the heart to send you away. Not when you’re holding out a glass of orange juice, tiny hands clasped around the surface of the glass, so careful to not spill.

“So, is Mark gonna get deported?” Your tiny brows scrunch, lips tugged into a frown and Nolan snorts.

“He’s not that kind of alien.”

You think back on that conversation as you remain seated on the wooden deck, face turned towards the Sun, and you can barely make out the way Mark and Nolan’s figure stand out like sore thumbs in the endless blue.

And then, Mark’s getting too close to the ground. Too close, too fast and your heart nearly stops in your chest.

And with a flurry of dust, Mark leaves behind a crater where he hits the ground and you’re barely able to cough away the dust, hands having the sand away from your face before you watch as Nolan helps him up. Gloved hands dust the blades of grass and soil from his shoulders.

“You want a sip of my water?” You hold out your water bottle as an offer and Mark scrunches his nose, shaking his head. “I’m good.” He reassures you softly, before looking back towards Nolan and you can barely deny the fact that you’re crossing your legs over one another to relieve the tension in your thighs.

You feel like a sick freak.

A few scuffs on the backs of his arms, raven strands slightly tousled from his flight and you’re feeling every hole on your body clench. Mark looks so focused, jaw clenched as he hangs on Nolan’s every word, brows creased in concentration and you watch the way his tongue peeks out between his lips, wetting the plump bottom one and you watch the flesh pinken.

And you swallow.

But once you’re snapping out of your reverie, you’re already watching Mark curl up, clutching his chest ad your eyes widen, knees scuffing at the grass at the speed that you’re moving, kneeling at his side and rubbing his back.

“Stop coddling him.” Nolan instructs, jaw clenching at the way Mark’s body contorts, hiding his face in the soft pudginess of your belly. And your fingers card through his hair, lips tugging downwards into a concerned frown before you look up at Nolan.

“Mr Nolan, aren’t you maybe pushing him a bit too hard?”

“Are you telling me how to raise my son?” There’s a tinge of defensiveness in his voice and your lips press together in a thin line.

“No sir.” You nearly grit the words out, helping Mark to his knees instead, dusting the sand from his side, using the long sleeve of your T-shirt to wipe at the salty tears that brim at his lashline.

“I mean, I only kept a hamster with diagnosed anxiety alive for 10 years.”

“You hurt me…” Mark’s face damn near crumples, leaning against your side as he stares up at Nolan.

“I… didn’t mean to hit you that hard… I’m sorry.” Nolan helps Mark to his feet, and you dust at your knees as you come up, staring down at your soil-caked sneakers. Freshly cleaned converse, for nothing.

And Mark glances towards you, following your gaze to your feet. Scuffed sneakers and soil dusted socks.

“I’ll clean your shoes.” He reassures softly, before letting out a cough.

⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆

“I don’t think you’re a loser.”

Your voice is quiet as you sit in the centre of Mark’s bed, feet tucked beneath your ass as you watch him move around his room, sock-covered feet padding across the carpet with unrest.

You try not to be a pervert.

But he looks a bit more muscular than you remember him being. Wide shoulders with the perfect amount of delves to showcase toned cords of muscle, a broad back lined with sinewy muscles and you curl your lips inward when you watch the flexing flesh shift beneath his skin. And you nearly bite your knuckles when he shrugs on a T-shirt, moving towards you and he plops down onto his bed.

His face pressed into your belly, arms limp at his sides and you let out a sigh, raking your fingers through his damp strands, feeling the way they slip from your grasp.

“I mean, I don’t think you’re any bigger of a loser than you were before you get your powers.” You correct and you feel the way his chest rumbles as he laughs, before peering up at you through his lashes.

“You’re such an asshole.” He snickers, before pressing his cheek against your diaphragm.

“I can hear your heartbeat.” Mark mumbles softly, fingertips pressing into your sides just a bit, as he tries to focus on the gentle thump.

But you’re sweating. Because now there’s pressure to calm down.

“Can you hear the shit that’s making it’s way through my colon?”

And Mark laughs loudly, dimples deepening in his cheeks and you catch a glimpse of pointy canines that glint in the dim light of the lamp on his nightstand.

���I was trying not to focus on it.” He jokes with a snort, before sitting up, hands moving to rest on the fat of your thighs, exposed by the cottony fabric of your nightshorts. And Mark glances at you, sharp brown eyes drinking in the sight of you slumped against his pillow, surrounded by his comforters and the smell of him is clinging to you.

Fuck, he can smell himself on your skin and it’s a heady combination.

And it’s like silence blankets you both.

Prolonged eye contact and you can feel the way his thumb trace indiscernible patterns on the soft skin of your thighs, his gaze never wavering from where your lashes flutter, and his eyes lower. Only for a second to your lips.

He thinks it’s unfair that he’s never felt them against his and Mark doesn’t know what possesses him, but he leans in.

Moonlight forms a halo on his hair, his hands shift to your hips and your breath nearly stutter.

And much like Mark does, he pussies out.

Instead, bringing a hand up to pick at an eyelash on your cheek. You know damn well there’s no fucking eyelash. But instead, you shift back, putting a bit of distance between the two of you.

And you swallow.

“I should probably head home. It’s like, what, 10?”

Mark’s brows furrow and like a switch in your brain, your hand lifts, your thumb smoothing out the crease between his brows

“I thought you were sleeping over?”

And you need to think of a quick lie.

“While you were in the shower, I found your bottle of lotion and your elbows are still dry. So, I don’t want you to be beating your dick while I’m under the same roof as you.”

You make relatively quick work of escaping from the space between him and his bed, planting your feet on the lush carpet and you stretch your arms overhead.

Mark tries to be respectful when your shirt raises a bit, exposing the cute dimples in your lower back and he bites the inside of his cheek, jaw tensing with the action before he quips back.

“What makes you think I haven’t done it in your house?”

“What makes you think I haven’t done it in yours?”

You’re quick with your words and it’s almost shameful how sweaty they make Mark’s palms, the image engraved into his mind before he can stop it.

The way you dainty fingers would circle your clit over your panties, hopefully that pretty pastel blue panties that he caught a glimpse of when you were rifling through your drawers last week. The way your gusset would darken and he can’t deny that he’d love to hear the way you breathe his name out.

But no.

It’s not like that. He thinks. He hopes.

“You’re sick.” He grumbles under his breath, and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you, or to himself. Especially with the way the corners of his mouth tug downwards.

“Maybe.” You shrug. “Or maybe William’s jerked off in your house. We’ll never know.”

And Mark grimaces.

“Go home.” A pause. “And text me when you get there.”

“I literally live next door.”

And Mark stares at you. Blank and unreadable.

“Text me. When you. Get home.”

⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆

Mark takes a nice, deep breath, boxers lowered just enough and he glances towards the ceiling, mind working overtime to conjure up one of his nightly fantasies.

But Amber’s face is muddled in his memories and Mark’s heart starts to pound nervously when your features come to view in his mind’s eye, unwelcome like an intrusive thought.

And Mark lets out an exhausted groan when he feels a bead of precum roll onto his fist.

“No.” He huffs, eyes squeezed shut as he tries his utmost hardest to picture who he wants to. “Amber. Amber. Amber.”

But he slowly softens in his grasp and Mark takes a deep breath.

“Shit.”

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌻🌼🪻୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“You’re never here this early.” Mark hums, arms crossed over his chest as he watches you, arms raised over your head as you proceed to hang banners across the ceiling, William’s distracted hold on the ladder seems to be enough to keep you steady. “What’s the occasion?”

“Student body elections are coming up and I’m trying to get picked for something.” You answer. “I’m trying to incorporate crop tops into the football team’s official practice uniform.”

“God’s work.” William sighs before glancing down the hallway, a sharp intake of breath at the sight of Todd.

“Doesn’t look like Amber’s here to save you today, Grayson.” Todd’s voice causes you to tear your eyes away from the banner. Well, actually, it’s the sound of Mark being shoved against a metallic locker that makes you look.

And you let out a breath.

Reaching into your pocket, and you pull out the thick roll of duct tape, before throwing it at the back of Todd’s head. The burly hands that grasp the front of Mark’s sweater instead, move to cradle the back of his head before he glares at you.

And he shoves William out of the way, instead, grabbing the ladder and beginning to shake it.

Your fear of heights kick in rather quickly, but not as quick as Mark grabbing the back of Todd’s T-shirt, fist raised and you yelp.

“Mark, no!”

Your voice stuns him, but it’s enough for Todd’s hand to connect with Mark’s nose.

You know it doesn’t hurt, but the shock of it still makes Mark’s eyes tear up. That’s regular anatomy.

“Shit!”

And your eyes widen when you spot that tungsten and diamond skull ring on Todd’s middle finger.

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

“I’m sorry for… You know, getting you punched.”

Mark hums softly, wincing when you press a cold cloth against his nose, clearing away the blood and he watches you carefully.

Your brows furrow in concentration, you chew at your bottom lip as you try to be as gentle as you can. And you’re just so pretty. Long lashes, big doe eyes and such soft lips, glossy with whatever smells so sickeningly sweet that it’s making his head hurt. And Mark looks up at you, one of your hands holding his chin to keep his head steady, while your hand cleans at his nose.

And his hand moves, resting on the fat of your thigh.

“You’ve got really pretty eyes…” Mark murmurs softly. “They’re like… something you’d find in nature.”

He swallows, his heart pounding when he feels the way your grip on his chin shifts, your cheeks heating up just enough for him to feel the change in your temperature.

“Uh… Thank you. You’ve got a really nice Cupid’s bow.” You respond, and damn it, you wish you didn’t.

Because your eyes glance down towards his lips without your consent, and you’re staring. And Mark can feel you staring.

But he’s staring too. Looking at your plump bottom lip, soft flesh raw bitten but so glossily inviting.

God. He hopes those aren’t the only pair of glossy lips on you.

And Mark’s fingers are digging into the flesh of your thighs, and he’s watching the sunlight dapple across your features and he thanks whoever decided on windows that face the door of the sick room.

His hand moves, and he’s about to cup the side of your face because he’s so painfully sure.

“Mark? Let’s go, buddy.”

Nolan’s intrusion makes Mark’s hand stop mid-air, his hand fisting just beside your face and he curls his lips inward, a deep pit of embarrassment and internal cringe forming in his belly and to save face, his knuckles brush against your cheek. And he makes a soft, explosion sound.

“See ya, kiddo.”

It’s affectionate and cute. But in a loser way.

Mark watches as you rise, pressing a kiss against his forehead and you smile up at Nolan, the man pressing a kiss against the crown of your head before looking at Mark.

“Uhhh.” Nolan snorts once you’re out of earshot. “Wanna tell me what that was?”

Mark cradles his head in his hands, body prickling with embarrassment and he is, in fact proved wrong about his belief that super-people don’t wanna crawl into holes.

“Just take me home, Dad.”

T🌼A🌼G🌼L🌼I🌼S🌼T

@lucky-beheaded ; @queen-of-gotham ; @coldvirginbitch ; @wittyjasontodd ; @a-n-a-n-a1 ; @dearlyya ; @broicouldjustbuyyousomekombucha ; @jasontoddswhitestreak ; @daydreams-and-peace ; @misstyy12 ; @fruticake ; @httpstes ; @waterflowersblog ; @glowinthedarkjellyfish ; @vm4879bb-blog ; @monaekelis ; @radlovesfics ; @allycat4458 ; @bigbodycity ; @feral010 ; @anesthesia-4rizzle ; @princesstrunkz ; @blackfox774 ; @sh1d0uryus31 ; @your-lovely-rose26 ; @slugstarzz ; @ripcolel0l ; @strawbiemilk420

[lanzalemon]

Stereotyping you based on ur favorite tcc person:

Dylan klebold: you cut yourself, that's you whole personality maybe you even drank a glass of vodka once and now consider yourself an alcoholic also You have a foot fetish that you'd never admit to

Eric Harris: your annoying that's it, you start every second sentence with "YOU KNOW WHAT I HATE??!!!" yea buddy you hate everyone we know. You probably hit on every freshman even though you look like you 63 since your already balding

Adam lanza: youre autistic

Elliot Rodger: you can't get any bitches evere and you make it everyones fault but yours you also probably have a fuck ass hair cut. You go to Starbucks to order a vanilla latte just for the reference, you probably don't even drink coffee

Dylann roof: your a white supremacist you thought about joining the ku klux klan, you yell the n-word at the top of your lung any chance you get. your favorite number is 88 and you initials are probably H.H

Andrew blaze: you just stole her humor, I know what your doing,,,,,

Luka magnotta:....no he's not? That guy is not anyones favorite what is he really your favorite? What's wrong with you. Your just lying to seem special right?? He's not really your favorite

Dolly flesh: you weird, you have a weird hair cut you have a weird face you have a weird everything. you probably smell like playdoh or clay and your a keyboard warrior. Your not allowed to have a pet hamster anymore since your last one mysteriously got crushed and was found under your bed

Sam ruprow: your flighting for your life out there the rest of the tcc hates you and you are so tired of the ghost girl pussy joke.

Academia maniacs: you make bad music, you goggle translate edgy ass quotes into Russian to put into your discord status to pretend like you know Russian, you own a purgen hoodie without listening to the band (name 3 songs poser) and you have a burning hatred against Daphne

depronave maniacs: noone knows anything about you your never acknowledged ever and if you are it's as the academia maniacs knock off. Everyone assumes your russian

Alyssa: youre a wanna be scene kid, your not cool none uses Myspace anymore stop asking me for my Facebook that hype died down in 2010 you think your so different for listening to not mainstream music

Salvador: yeah you like Adam lanza and guns we get it dude

Bobby lemon: your a fan girl, your constantly asking for his telegram group links for his discord groups everything, you probably live by this man's beliefs so you go around yelling about how people with dyed hair suck, you desperately need a shower

[clawsdevour]

｡. ˚oikawa husband hcs

wc: 0.6k content warning: post-time skip, fluff, goofy silly husband oikawa, not proofread

っ ᐟ˒𓂂

-Oikawa, the type of husband to love to just hold your hand. Everytime he does though, he always looks at it to admire the ring he picked out for you the moment he knew you were the one. He can't help but smile and kiss the small gem while admiring the luck.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to absolutely love laughing with you. It's not that he likes laughing but more of hearing you laugh with him. He enjoys silly little moments where you get to laugh off a small mistake or just simple tickle fights.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to plan little "slumber parties" with you. He'd go out his way to buy little pouches of face masks and cut up little cucumbers for your eyes. While you're at it, Oikawa would also enjoy baking cookies to eat while you both binge-watch your current favorite shows. He loves doing little fun activities like these because you both get a chance to unwind and relax together.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to probably gossip with you about his volleyball team and old friends like how he met Hinata in Brazil. He loves telling you about his volleyball career as well since it's a big part of who he is and he appreciates how you love every version of him.. especially when you're real invested in the short volleyball gossip sessions.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to love ruining your cute couple selfies by making the goofiest faces mid pic until you get serious. Don't get me wrong, he enjoys taking selfies. But what he enjoys most is the memory behind the photos.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to give you his all. Every small effort he puts into you for instance, making you a simple breakfast. He puts every little thought into every action. Do you like bacon? He'd sizzle a fresh batch for you. Do you like your eggs whole or scrambled with salt and pepper? If you don't he wouldn't cook it that way. He remembers every little detail without you even realizing it.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to give you the best shoulder massages when you're having one of those days. He'd immediately notice your slight shift in energy and tell you to sit down in front of him while his fingers work that setter magic, relieving all the pent up stress and freeing up your tensed muscles while he reassures you with his comforting words.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to love going out on dates with you. He enjoys planning them, calling restaurants, booking flights, and overall going above and beyond for a good time with the one he loves the most. He truly loves to spoil you. He'd enjoy taking you out to foreign countries where you both can bask in the ambiance of new land where it's just you two.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to be a complete fatass for the food you cook. Doesn't matter if you're a bad or a good chef, he genuinely likes that you enjoy cooking for him. Every meal he eats, he can feel the love that you cooked it with every bite that just gets better. He's stuffing his cheeks full like a hamster to the point where he'd accidentally end up choking for water.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to definitely send you reels while he's out for work. He'd for sure be watching them and laugh when reading the comment section to the point where he has to send you the reels and sends screenshots of the comments he found the funniest. Oikawa would quite literally laugh in your dms saying stuff like "LOL HINATA DID THIS ONCE"

masterlist here

[loveisinthebat]

Flight hamster

[revelboo]

True Romance Pt 7

Seeker Trine x Reader

18+ content

• “I can do it myself!” You hiss, flight or fight fully triggered as you try to launch yourself out of Skywarp’s servos and back to the safety of the desk. Knowing full well that’s there’s nowhere to hide and that one of them is just going to catch you again. That you’re probably the equivalent of a talking hamster to them, but still. You can’t make yourself cooperate for community shower time and being gawked at naked by the three of them. What little pride you have left from being a glorified pet, is screaming at you to the tune of death before dishonor.

• Even though the fall isn’t that high, when you launch yourself out of his servos, hit the desk, stumble and fall, then immediately bolt, Skywarp’s spark constricts. “This isn’t negotiable, you stink,” he snarls, shaking off the worry that you might have broken one of those tiny bones. Wings flared out in embarrassment because Star and TC are watching you evade him. Because for being so tiny, you can move when you’re properly motivated.

• “Enough,” Starscream vents tiredly as Thundercracker fidgets beside him, wanting to intervene. He really didn’t think you’d get so distraught about being washed, but Skywarp has a point. “Come here.” Shouldering up beside Skywarp, he lays his palm on the desk and glowers down at you. Watching you raggedly breathe, body tense and those eyes angry. “Now, little one.” And shoulders slumping, you slowly approach him and rock to a stop in front of his servos. Refusing to climb into his palm in one last little act of rebellion.

• Finally. Wings easing as Starscream picks you up and strides past them toward the private wash racks attached to their habsuite. A boon because of Star’s status as SIC that’s especially welcome now since they won’t have to risk you being seen by the other Decepticons. Thundercracker really can’t understand why you’re being so difficult about this as you wrap your arms around yourself and sulk. Eyes almost panicked when Star grips the bottom of your covering and tries to tug it up off your body. And it clicks as he watches your very doomed struggle to not give up your covering. You’re embarrassed. Swearing nonstop as Star finally wins the brief struggle and strips your covering off.

• And they’re all staring at you as you shuffle so your back is to them as best you can and cover yourself with your hands, shoulders hunched in defeat. Honestly, your nakedness is probably as interesting to them as a hairless cat. Because you’re not a person to them, you’re a pet that talks. “All that fuss,” Starscream mutters as he cradles you to him and reaches to touch the controls for the water. And the warm, almost too hot water is wonderful. Almost worth being gaped at. Tipping your head into the spray, you startle at the feel of a servo sliding over the curve of your hip and up along the bottom of your ribs.

• “Soft all over,” Skywarp murmurs, grinning when you swat at his servo. Your little face even redder than it had been. And you’d stopped covering the apex of your thighs to smack him, giving him a glimpse of you. Ignoring Star’s frown as the SIC uses a servo to rub your wet hair and both hands lift to shove at him, a leg shifting for balance. Hears the surprised sound TC makes on Star’s other side.

• You’re outnumbered. Starscream staring down at you, his expression almost surprised as you realize what you’re doing and try to cover yourself again. Only to have Thundercracker stroke along your spine. Giving up and just sitting in Starscream’s palms with your knees drawn up against yourself, though you’re sure you just flashed all three of them trying to stop Starscream from messing with your hair. Trying your best to ignore the three of them as you just wish you this was over already as you scrub at your skin and hair, while trying to keep your bits covered.

• Under the coverings, you’re shaped curiously like a tiny, delicate protoform. And while Starscream had noticed the similarities between you and them, the differences had always snagged him. Watching your mortified attempts to wash, he flares his wings out protectively, using his wingspan to nudge his brothers back so they’ll leave you be, because that embarrassment bothers him. Ignoring it as Skywarp shoots him an annoyed look and drifts into a stall further from him. Optics narrowing as the other Seeker frees his spike and grips himself, Starscream turns more toward Thundercracker in annoyance, but not before he sees your little eyes widen in shock.

• Face hot, there’s no unseeing that. Or forgetting it. Because your giant alien robots have all the equipment and you have no idea why. But you can hear Skywarp growling softly. Not wanting to look, but unable to stop yourself from peeking over your shoulder like a voyeur as he pumps his fist. His head turning to catch you staring and just grinning at you as his hips rock. And then Starscream is flaring his wings again, firmly nudging your head away with a servo against your cheek. Seeing Thundercracker watching you before glancing at Starscream. And his jaw is clenched when you look up at him, clearly unhappy as you all get to listen to Skywarp snarling as he strokes himself.

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[curtain-caller]

So I'm looking forward to seeing all the interpretations and headcanons people make for The Lucky Contestant (who I will also join in calling them "Lucky"), but I'm curious... Okay, raise of hands, who else here also pictures Lucky as a crafty, greedy, overconfident, sassy, morally bankrupt little shit (affectionate)? Or is that just me? Idk I just get those vibes from their choices in the game (elaboration below)

Like... the implications that they were combing through hundreds of boxes to get a tape to join the show??? That they were counting the boxes and keeping track??? The fact that the only way to escape at the start is to run PAST the giant fucking beast mauling another contestant instead of running AWAY from it??? Not to mention them leaving the other remaining contestants behind in doing so.

The fact they didn't hesitate when Deputy Duck pecked at them, fucking grabbing him by the neck and throwing him against the wall??? That screamed "I'm not fucking around, are you going to cooperate or not?" kind of energy. The way they barely move when they come across the Real Frankie in front of the monitors??? Like, I know you can't move during that segment probably so you don't just miss the cutscene, but in-universe, Lucky has ample opportunity to turn and fucking run, and we know damn well their fear response isn't freeze, it's flight.

Just. The entire noob noob section. I feel like they flinched one time during that and that was when they caught the first one, but only because the explosion caught them off guard. That slowed them down for 1 second, maximum. Hell, I've seen a few players laugh at that part, I feel like Lucky would too. The fact that there's no objectives to even try to escape Frankie's great value Parkour Civilization??? Like, in a game like this, I'd expect at one point for there to be an attempt to just escape the game entirely once shit hit the fan, only for the protagonist to realize the only way out is to begrudgingly play along and win. But nope. Lucky came here for the money, and they're getting that money. AND THE FACT THEY DO??? AND THEY'RE THE FIRST EVER ONE TO DO SO??? The way they just strut back into Frankie's office after their 57th near-death experience and look him right in the eye??? The whole ending segment where they go for another season??? It's not framed at all like they were forced to go again, because the Real Frankie just offered his hand out, and when we cut back, Lucky is casually looking at the ratings screen while standing on top of a pile of corpses. There are open gaps on the floor they can be standing on instead! But nope, just chilling on top of some dead bodies. Obviously we can't tell what their facial expressions are with the mask on, but they don't seem afraid or even all that tense about their situation either. To me, Lucky is the type of guy to go "I'm not gay, but 20 bucks is 20 bucks". Lucky is the type of guy to go "No, I'm taking the 5 million" only to sprint through that fucking door when Frankie whispers "Double or nothing". Lucky is the type of guy to walk past an old dead competitor and mutter "skill issue" under their breath. Lucky is the kind of guy to roll around in the glass money ball for enrichment like a hamster in a hamster ball. Lucky's the type of guy to keep going for season after season, for more and more money, until eventually they're not even doing it for the money anymore, relishing in the adrenaline rush and the glory instead. I just really love the idea that the reason why Lucky made it to the end so successfully was not only because of their skills and quick thinking, but because they also match Frankie's freak. Frankie was right: They need each other. They compliment each other. They enable each other in the worst ways possible. One wants to put the other through gradually more elaborate and deadly situations to increase ratings, and the other runs headfirst into those situations with the same energy as someone going cliff diving. It's like enrichment for them.

[neptunetiny]

G/t character/writing prompts!

- A tiny repairman, who literally crawls inside of whatever they’re fixing

- A giant who keeps large animals, like horses or something, in an enclosure like a hamster

- A giant who does landscaping for smaller folk’s yards, crouching down low and holding those snipping things delicately between two fingers

- A tiny that frequents the local bar, often found on the counter talking (or flirting) with the other (much larger) patrons. Sometimes they get a little too obnoxious and someone turns their empty glass over to trap them under and shut them up.

- A tiny librarian, you may sometimes see a single book sliding across the floor, but going to pick it up you’ll see them underneath just trying to do their job.

- A giant who tries to convince people they’re just tall. Like, 6’7 or something.

- A tiny who talks about getting up a flight of stairs like they just climbed Mount Everest

- A tiny actor that uses forced perspective and greenscreen in all their movies, so when they finally do an interview or a meet-and-greet all their fans are shocked to find they’re four inches tall

- A giant that spends so much time in one place that they serve as a tourist attraction for the town they live in

[vestaignis]

Болотная сова (Asio flammeus) – среднего размера сова: длина ее тела колеблется от 34 до 42 см, вес самцов - 0,23-0,39 кг, самок - 0,24-0,43 кг. Крылья у нее длинные, ноги украшены пучками из перьев, на голове расположены маленькие вертикально стоящие "ушки" из перьев.

Болотная сова распространена очень широко, она обитает на всех континентах, кроме Австралии и Антарктики и населяет соленоводные болота, прибрежные равнины, хвойные леса, тундру, трясины, поля, прерии, высокотравные степи (часто с солончаками), луга (в поймах рек и озер), гористые местности и субальпийские луга, сельскохозяйственные угодья и парковые насаждения. Во всех местах обитания болотная сова придерживается открытых пространств.

Большую часть рациона этой птицы составляют мелкие грызуны (мыши, полёвки, лемминги, крысы, хомяки и ондатры), кролики, землеройки, летучие мыши, птицы (кулики, крачки, мелкие чайки, жаворонки и дрозды), насекомые (кузнечики, жуки, гусеницы) и иногда рыба.

Охотится болотная сова в любое время суток, низко паря над открытым пространством. На добычу она обычно нападает с полета или из засады и несёт ее в когтях. Болотные совы – моногамы и образуют постоянные пары. Самец привлекает самку на свой участок красивыми пируэтами в воздухе. Иногда в брачных полетах участвуют обе птицы: они гоняются друг за другом, сцепляются когтями или в шутку борются. Гнездом обычно служит расчищенная самкой ямка диаметром до 40 см на вершине плоской кочки среди густой травы или тростника. В кладке 4–7 яиц, которые насиживает самка.

Swamp Owl (Asio flammeus) – medium-sized owl: its body length ranges from 34 to 42 cm, the weight of males is 0.23-0.39 kg, females - 0.24-0.43 kg. Her wings are long, her legs are decorated with tufts of feathers, and small vertically standing "ears" of feathers are located on her head.

The is very widespread, it lives on all continents except Australia and Antarctica and inhabits saltwater swamps, coastal plains, coniferous forests, tundra, bogs, fields, prairies, tall grass steppes (often with salt marshes), meadows (in floodplains of rivers and lakes), mountainous areas and subalpine meadows, agricultural lands and parkland. In all habitats, the swamp owl adheres to open spaces.

Most of the diet of this bird consists of small rodents (mice, voles, lemmings, rats, hamsters and muskrats), rabbits, shrews, bats, birds (sandpipers, terns, small gulls, larks and thrushes), insects (grasshoppers, beetles, caterpillars) and sometimes fish.

The swamp owl hunts at any time of the day, hovering low over an open space. It usually attacks prey from flight or from ambush and carries it in its claws. Swamp owls are monogamous and form permanent pairs. The male attracts the female to his site with beautiful pirouettes in the air. Sometimes both birds participate in mating flights: they chase each other, lock claws or jokingly fight. The nest is usually a hole cleared by a female with a diameter of up to 40 cm on top of a flat hummock among dense grass or reeds. There are 4-7 eggs in the clutch, which are incubated by the female.

Источник://www.ebirds.ru/vid/225.htm,/bigenc.ru/c/bolotnaia-sova-bb9577,/zoogalaktika.ru/photos/aves/strigiformes/asio-flammeus, //www.mos.ru/news/item/86280073/,://ecology.polotsk.museum.by/node/42982,/russia.birding.day/v2taxon.php?s=423&l=ru.

[bookofthegear]

You decide to keep going north, although you do keep looking behind yourself to make sure the stairweight isn’t following you. You don’t think it could get through the doorway, but you’re not entirely sure.

Another open doorway on your left leads to a small, square room with absolutely nothing in it. Three joined lines, like a square with no top bar, are chalked on the inside wall beside the door. You poke in the corners of the room but find absolutely nothing of interest.

As you continue down the corridor, another glass fish tube emerges from the right hand wall. This one is as thick around as your thigh, and holds a single immense fish, a good four feet long, with skin like leather. Fish ID is not your strong suit, but it looks almost prehistoric, with catfish whiskers and a row of points down its back. You wonder how the hell it turns around. Presumably there’s a wider spot somewhere in this strange fish hamster-tube set up? And a feeding station? Or maybe the fish are immortal. Or maybe they’re not actually real, but made of clockwork, like the bees. Waterproof clockwork. Or they’re things like the stairweight and if you let your guard down…

Stop, you tell yourself. You’re letting this place get to you.

It’s the silence, probably. Everything has been so quiet since you left the frogs behind. You start whistling to make a small brave noise against the dark. Jimmy joins in after a moment, trilling in harmony. The fish ignores you both, tail moving lazily to hold its place in the invisible current.

Past the fish, on the right side, is a door. An actual door, not a concrete doorway! It’s made of weathered wood and has a clear cut glass doorknob. The sight is so incongruous that you stop and stare at it. It’s one of the first objects you’ve seen, other than the stained mattress, that looks like someone made it, instead of it just growing out of the walls in a strange extension of the labyrinth.

About ten feet down the corridor, a flight of stairs goes down.

[dragobread]

the swap au doodle page is done :D + headcanons under the cut

to reiterate, in this au the main 6 have their personality traits swapped with each other and that’s it. any other stuff like history and culture remains the same

and bonus art of their full outfits

(there may be some overlap between my headcanons for the original and swapped characters)

California

Tough outdoorsman who will absolutely rub in your face how much better he is at surviving in the wilderness than you.

Also very annoying about how his state having the largest population is more important than Alaska having the largest land area and will go on a 6 hour rant about it

The patch on his neck is a burn scar

Seems “at peace” when he’s in natural landscapes like mountains or canyons, some people think he’s just doing it to be pretentious but he genuinely does feel relaxed in nature.

^This is also partially the reason why he feels uneasy sleeping in a room that doesn’t have windows where he can see the night sky.

Florida

Overworked vacation planner who is the embodiment of all your travel anxiety. Did you remember to bring your passport to the airport? Because he’ll be on your ass about it every 2 minutes.

Would unironically make one of these tombstones that says “here lies Florida’s hopes and dreams”

“You have to be at the airport a MINIMUM of 3 hours before your flight”

A part of his soul dies every time tourists trash his beaches. And also every time the other states rent timeshares so that they can be in uncomfortably close proximity to him

Needs everything to go according to plan and gets really pissed off at sudden schedule changes

Gov

One could argue that this is just canon Gov if he crashed out..

Stereotypical loud American who puts USA flags on everything he owns. And also has no volume control. He is literally the worst person to be around if you’re hungover or tired.

Overuses “i know your IP address/i know where you live” jokes…but he’s literally the government so he’s not even joking when he says it. He is the reason why VPNs were invented.

The song lyrics in the doodle page are from here btw

Has a motorcycle and crashes it into the state house for fun. And then he does the sad hamster face when he has to face the consequences of his actions.

Louisiana

Gator hunter + fisherman who wants everyone to leave him alone >:(

Sort of like swap!California in terms of being a survivalist who thinks he’s better than everyone, but he doesn’t show off as much because he really doesn’t want any reason to be around other people

Will take care of you if you’re sick/injured but very begrudgingly and he’ll judge you the whole time. He won’t let you leave until he knows for sure that you’ve fully recovered. Unless you slander his state then he’ll just throw you out the window

^He doesn’t like sharing his house with others, but despite that he’s still the best caretaker out of the main 6.

Wants everyone to be scared of him even though he looks like this to them

New York

New York actually tolerates being around people now??😧not clickbait??😱

Usually found at one of the many nightclubs in NYC. I mean, it’s not called the “city that never sleeps” for nothing…

Good at coming up with puns/dad jokes on the spot. May or may not overuse them to the point of pissing off the other states.

Most people think he’s incapable of taking things seriously, but he just doesn’t like worrying about things unneccesarily.

Texas

Country boy i love you…

Still has that Texan pride, he’s just a lot more passive-aggressive about it now. Like if someone insulted his state, he wouldn’t fight them face to face, he’d just vaguepost about it on twitter that night.

^Despite this, he is a lot nicer than canon Texas. Maybe he’ll finally get along with Austin?

Has protective instincts over anyone or anything that looks vulnerable, but he gets scared at the sight of blood and other such things so he’s not as good of a caretaker as Louisiana

Has a bunch of Applejack plushies that he cuddles with in his sleep

[dat-lil-shark]

I just realized that fireworks are probably the best weapon most humans can have against decepticons. Better than guns and rifles.

While they can’t probably kill the con but they can buy you a whole lot of time. Other than just creating smoke and sparks to block the con’s vision, like a giant smoke bomb, they can sends the con into shock. All the con would see is that there is suddenly a big explosions and there were sparks everywhere, and since they are used to associate massive explosion with massive damages, they would panic. (Not to mention that some might think that THEY were the only who had exploded just then). This placebo effect could actually send them into intense psychological distress and pain. And if lucky, it can buy you up to hours of time to escape or hide. Not to mention that if you actually managed to hit one of their optics, it might actually do physical damages to them.

Fireworks probably work the best on seekers that are in flight, too, cause the confusion, traumatic trigger, and bewilderment could make them crash or collide. And even if the firework didn’t hit any of them directly, since Seekers usually travel in three, they would mistakenly assume one of their companions just got struck down, and again, sending them into panic and distress. Especially when they can’t even see who and where their attacker is.

Like imagine, if you are chasing down a little hamster, and the hamster randomly throws you a little paper ball that recreated explosion of big bang itself, you are not going to get up in three second to continue chasing the hamster.

[tellyouily]

I think George was helping a lot with the fusion recently and helped Dream get it all neat and running before the megacon. and then Dream saw that sapnap, poor hamster bless him, was so scared of this flight and probably saw how George was already tired of working with him even tho I think George was insisting that he wasn't. and Dream asked George if he wouldn't want to take the vacation in Argentina. see some world, rest, and mingle. because he knows George the best and he knows, as George said in his recent stream, that he loves seeing places and going around. so he wanted best for him. I am also really curious how Dream will mention George during his megacon talk. because he will, there's no way he won't, especially that he will miss him already

anon you are so right dream just wants what’s best for george always 🫶🏼 also he will def mention george during his talk and probably thank him for his help and support and undying love