#look what you've done to me

[iroissleepdeprived]

This is how I'll be sitting in class this morning

@perroulisses @aaronofithaca05 that hurt, guys. Not fair.

[bonerot19]

bones I wanted to see what you were up to so I looked up your name on tumblr and wrote it as bonerat 💀 😭

[polerikapolerika]

i've made an sm(f)s tattoo, and i'm so happy with it!

(it's my first and it was definitely worth it!)

[flyingwide]

I'm a little stuffed up today and all I can think about is poor Lukas trying to say mint. "I'm saying it normal!!" is me all day. This is Aabria's fault

[emilyrox]

ooo, now i kinda wanna hear your mack headcanons specifically-

Mack Headcanons/Theories :D

Gender/Sexuality

Trans man + Polysexual

Real reason: because I said so

"Logical reason": Mark and Mack are similar, but not the same. I headcanon Mark as a cis man + pan. So Mack, being similar but not the same, is a trans man + poly.

When we First Meet Him

I like to think that Mack had a feeling that we were from a different universe. That we were not his captain in that universe. But he chose not to say anything about it.

So like...you know how when we point out that he's not Mark he glitches out and is replaced with Mark? And how in every other universe we're in, whenever we mention the warp core or not going back in time to Mark, that universe glitches? What if...if someone were to tell us...that we weren't that universe's captain, we would also glitch out?

Now I'm not saying Mack didn't say anything because he wanted to "protect" us or anything. Kinda sorta the opposite.

I think Mack is such an a-hole to us because his captain in his universe is a mega asshole.

You know the "ending" in part 1 where we constantly beat up/boss around/bully Mark to the point of driving him insane? Yeah. That's Mack's captain but like...50x worse.

So when he sees us, while he has a feeling that we aren't his captain, and sees that we aren't acting like his captain right now, he thinks that we may start to act exactly like them once we reach the new planet.

And he's fucking sick of it.

He decides the only way to prevent us from going dictator on him...is to become a dictator himself.

"Great Job, Mack!" Route

In the route where we do let Mack take the lead, while he is dictator, the only person he seems to be actively hurting is us. He does use our torment as an example to the other colonists as what will happen if they also go against the colony, but no one else seems to be actually punished in that scene. The other colonists celebrate when we are about to be killed by firing squad, as they also believe we had caused them much harm.

Not saying no one else was harmed by his rule as dictator, but it seemed like the only person he truly wanted to torment was us. Because he thought we were similar enough to his captain.

Remember when I mentioned the "ending" in part 1, where we constantly bossed Mark around, blamed him for everything, punished him for every little mistake he made, etc.?

Yeah, this scene is the reverse of that. We are now the ones being constantly bossed around, blamed for everything, and punished for every little mistake we make.

Because that's what Mack's captain did to him.

This was Mack's revenge on the captain. Although we are not his captain, we are similar enough that it still feels satisfying to him.

"You're Not Mark" Route

Speaking of "similar enough"

I mentioned how when we say he's not Mark, he glitches out of existence because it's that bad of an identity crisis.

The line "You do not get to choose whether or not I exist!" still hits hard for me bro.

For multiple reasons:

1. He realizes that we know he's not our engineer, also confirming to him that we aren't his Captain.

2. He's meeting the fate that we would have had if he pointed out we weren't his captain.

3. Us dismissing his identity not only hurts him because of the paradox/warp core, but because of how his captain treated his identity.

Headcanon that Mack's captain, along with already being a mf asshole, was also transphobic. Constantly deadnaming and misgendering Mack just to piss him off and invalidate him.

So when we dismiss him like "You're not Mark. You're not real", he loses it.

We unknowingly just did exactly what his captain would do.

Miscellaneous

I know I said that it seemed like we were the only ones Mack wanted to hurt while he's dictator. But I also hc that he immediately sent all homophobes and transphobes to death.

Fav drink: Diet Coke (he's played by MatPat it has to be)

Fav food: Mac and cheese (No it is NOT just for the pun. I'm also projecting my favorite onto him.)

Doesn't know what fnaf is, but if he were introduced to it he would become OBSESSED. (Once again, MatPat)

In this universe, Mark is Theory Crew.

In our own universe, Theory Crew's real name is Mack.

So Mack and Mark basically just swapped places in this universe.

If the Captain knew that they probably would've just gone out to seek Mark as theory crew.

As a bonus, you get a fic idea I've thought of that takes place after the ending of ISWM! :D

Post-Canon Fic Idea

At some point after the true ending of ISWM, the captain somehow ends up in Mack's universe again. I imagine some kind of conflict/battle/whatever happens, including them running into Mack's captain.

(I headcanon that this universe's captain is played by Jacksepticeye, since he was originally cast to play Mack but couldn't due to Covid)

They're both appalled by each other. Mack's captain thinks we're weak and not as strong as them and a pushover. We realize they're a gigantic asshole and the reason why Mack treated us the way he did.

Doesn't excuse his actions towards us, but an understanding is made.

The Cap tries to convince Mack to leave this universe and join us in ours.

"...Why?! Why should I?!"

"Because things will be better there. You won't be trapped with that asshole anymore!"

"...No...things won't be better...because you're just like THEM!"

"How!? How am I like them?!?"

"You both think I don't exist!"

[flashback to the "You're Not Mark" route]

"...I'm sorry."

"...wait, what?"

"I'm sorry. I was just...trying to fix things in my universe...I needed to get to my version of the head engineer so we could fix a paradox. I guess I just...assumed...based on your attitude towards me, that you wouldn't help if I told you..."

[there's a pause for a moment]

"...Well, then...maybe I...shouldn't have assumed you would act like my captain...maybe then, it would've worked out better for you...for us...I'm sorry..."

"...Maybe your captain shouldn't have been a lil' bitch."

[Mack releases a small laugh]

"So...wanna join my crew?"

[Cap reaches their hand out to Mack, offering him to grab it, if he wants. Mack hesitates. Suddenly they both hear a distant shouting. It's this universe's captain giving orders to someone]

"That lesser version of me will not get away with this! Find them now! Oh, and if [deadname] is with them...bring [improper pronoun] to me as well. I'm sure helping an alternate version of me disrupt my colony counts as treason. And both of them will be severely punished."

[Cap and Mack both exchange terrified looks. Mack looks back at Cap's hand. He grabs it.]

"Please..."

[They run off together. Possibly more action happens idk. Wormhole/portal opens. They jump through. We're back in our universe. With Mack.]

That's what I got so far, @frayro-called-frey!

[nopjeee]

I think i'm allergic

been sneezing a more lately, and my nose has been a bit stuffy for like 3 weeks, and my eyes have been a bit itchy, but other than that there's no other symptoms of me being sick. i was thinking i'd go to my doctor and check if i have allergies but idk how they're gonna test for the obvious culprit which is me being allergic to online horse harassment!!!

it will never end. this is my legacy and it makes me sick (literally)😞🤧😔

[hinamie]

to moving forward

[auditioheros]

send 🚢 or ( 'SHIP' ) if you ever considered shipping our characters romantically and want me to fill out the following form for our muses. bold all that definitely applies, italicize what could potentially apply. feel free to add more if you think certain options are missing or you just want to add more.

do i ship our characters together?: yes | no | not yet but maybe soon

would i like to ship with you?: yes | maybe, i'm willing to try | no

type of relationship i could see: childhood or high school sweethearts | exes | engaged | married | long-term relationship | crushes | unrequited love | fling | long distance | online relationship | just dating | new relationship | toxic lovers | friends with benefits

tropes i'd enjoy writing for them: friends to lovers | enemies to lovers | exes to lovers | fake relationship / dating | forbidden love | grumpy and sunshine | star-crossed lovers | surprise pregnancy | second chance | soulmates | amnesia / mistaken identity | forced proximity | secret relationship | slow burn relationship

would i rather plot first or jump right in and see where it goes?: develop their relationship first | jump right in | something in between ( ur monarch u get special privileges )

what now?: let's plot something | send me shippy memes | i'll send you shippy memes | write me a random starter | i'll write you a random starter

anything else i want you to know about me / my character / my shipping habits: you've literally ruined me when it comes to these two monarch, the purbles... the PURBLES!!!!! best believe they will try to out do each other when it comes to writing sappy stuff for each other ok like i decree it

ft. hitoshi shinsou, @stubborngods | prompt.

[frivolousfootstep]

Song : Izzamuzzic - Shootout

[moth-in-a-mason-jar]

YOU FEED OUR BRAIN WORMS SO WELL JFCBJNVRSKNVA

Yes- hi- hello, tis I, the moth that will ram into your window :3

Anyway

My brainrot for Fae!Price is so hhhhhgggnnnn and I've backed myself into a corner by crafting the idea of Witch Darling trying to fluster Price in return for all the times he's done so to her. Like- they're just doing their daily thing and Price pulls out a cigar but Witch just snaps her fingers and lights it for him and he's like "Why'd you do that?" And Witch immediately follows up nonchalantly "Pretty boys shouldn't have to light their own cigars."

And Price is fucking floored

Like- he's had experience with people flirting with him, especially debtors trying to get a better deal when talking to him, but when it's coming from Witch?

GOD DAYUM

Okay back to lurking for me, take care of yourself and drink water if you haven't already. I will find a way I to your house and bring you water if you don't <3

Hi, hi, hello! I am taking care of myself! Had a good birthday and didn't write anything which was very weird but very nice to have a break. I return with Witch and Price because I desperately miss writing for them.

I've had this idea of Witch showing up at the 141's usual bar and causing trouble and this is the perfect ask for it. Here's Witch being well... far too pretty for her own good, and Price being a terribly weak man for her. Witch's dress is based on one from 1964's "What a Way To Go" which has some of the most spectacular textile artistry I've ever seen.

Price's knuckles drag up your back as you lean against the bar to order a drink. You're not used to this many eyes on you, but it's worth it for the single pair of cool blues that study you like they've never seen you before. His fingers hook in the double line of pearls that trail down your spine to your skirt, thumb counting over every one before his fingers reach the sleek silk of your dress.

"Can I buy you a drink?" You ask him, Price's eyes follow his hand where it hovers over your bare skin. More than you think he's ever seen of you. You like throwing him off, it's rather fun seeing him at a loss for words.

"Fuck sweetheart, buy the whole bar for all I care," he presses his hand against you, spreads his fingers wide against the small of your back. Each one a threatening display of his adoration. "What're you doing here?" He can't ignore the stares anymore than you can. A witch in a fae bar, your back exposed, vulnerabilities on display, you can feel the hunger that rolls through the room. You're not as easy a target as they'd all like to think.

"Good looking guys like you shouldn't buy their own drinks, so here I am."

"Here you are," Price breathes, you like the heat in his eyes. It's hard to match him, you aren't exactly flirty. Not by nature at least, and you don't have his easy self assurance. You're confident in yourself, but not quite in the same interpersonal sense. Still, if anything was going to set you up for success it would be Price. His eyes, his touch, there's something to having his attention so fully focused on you. A room full of people and yet you're the only two in it that can touch each other.

You signal the bartender for two of whatever Price drinks, watching him pull a cigar from his pocket in your periphery. You snap your fingers to conjure a flame and hold your hand out to him. The little red flame flickering on your pointer finger dances happily as he takes your hand and holds it to his cigar. You try not to be too flustered when he moves his cigar to extinguish your flame on his tongue. The slick muscle curling around your finger, making a heat coil in your stomach. He settles your hand on his shoulder, forces you to turn on your stool to watch him press his lips to the inside of your arm.

"You almost make me wanna wear a suit," he sounds, hm, it's an admission, but not one that lines up with his actual words. Not a lie, never a lie, a rephrasing of a truth. He almost makes you want to ask.

"You'd look good in a suit," is all you can think to say.

"You look good in white," he responds, the hand on your back tugs you off your seat. You do your best to avoid stepping on his toes as he pulls you to stand, turns your back against the bar, and boxes you in. A physical barrier between you and the open room, Price's strong arms rest on either side of you, his fingers tapping the bar as you stare up at him. You're supposed to be making him flustered. You really have to up your game.

You slide your hand from his shoulder to his chest, feeling the firm muscle there, the slight give of his skin and the tension your touch brings to him. There's a tightness in his jaw when you look up at him, a flinty edge to his eyes as he watches the bartender.

"What're you thinking about pretty boy?" You ask. He blinks, surprised, and looks at you. His eyes trace over you, gaze sliding like magma over your form. You try to keep your breaths even, try not to be affected by him. When he looks at you like that you can't help wanting more of him.

Your fingers slide down his chest to hook in his belt loops, and Price draws a shuddering breath. He cannot talk to you like this. Whatever has gotten into you is bad for his health. Whatever has gotten onto you as well. He takes a long drag of his cigar, tries to keep his eyes off the cling of silk against your chest. Made much more difficult when his smoke takes it upon itself to fall over you, slide down the soft curves of your body so he can feel the shape of you.

What's he thinking about? You, always you. In every position, you.

The bartender sets two whiskey glasses between his hands, behind you. Their eyes rest too long on your exposed shoulders. Price gives them a warning growl, enjoys the way it rips from his throat, the way your fingers tug ever so slightly in response. You tip your head back to see what he's growling at and- God you are just- a tease, that's what you are. The way your neck stretches for him, the way your lips part, your back arches. He tips your head forward again, keeps your pretty little self contained and off the bar.

"Are both of these for me?" He rasps, God he hopes so, could use all the liquor he can get.

"One's mine." Are you keeping your voice low like that because you want to drive him mad? It's working.

"You even like whiskey?" He's never seen you drink, but he would bet you're preferential to something sweeter.

"I can drink it, if that's what you're asking," you twist to grab your glass, and quickly tip its contents into his. Price takes another long drag of his cigar watching you raise the glass to your lips and take a sip. You lower it with a sigh, your lipstick staining the edge. You hold the glass out to him, or up for him, as he exhales.

Oh you are sweet the way you breathe in his smoke.

Price takes the glass from your fingers and keeps his eyes on yours as he takes a drink. He savors the way you watch him, how focused you are even with your eyes lidded. He hands the glass back, and watches you swallow a pull of the amber liquor as he smokes. When you lower the cup from your lips he tips your head back with a gentle finger under your chin, leaning down to hover his mouth over yours and breathe. He feels you pull his smoke into your lungs, feels where it escapes your lips to curl over your cheeks, your jaw, soft magic to make your head spin. His favorite kind.

"You're awfully forward tonight little Witch," he hums, feeling you tilt your head, just barely brush his lips with your own.

"Trying to give you a taste of your own medicine," your honesty always hits him between the ribs, Price smiles, "is it working?"

"Perfectly," he feels your tongue flick against his lip, catching a last hint of whiskey, and his hand wraps around your neck. God what you do to him. "The things I would do for you," he breathes, you're testing his resolve. Lucky he hasn't spun you around and pressed you against this bar. It wouldn't be the first time someone had gotten what they deserved in here.

"Don't you mean to me?" You smile, he can feel the curve of your smile, so tantalizingly close.

"No," he takes a half step closer, feels you press yourself top to toe against him, "I mean on my knees, with my tongue, with my fingers, with my cock, with whatever you asked for. For. You."

You shudder against him so nicely. A valiant effort, he thinks, but how could you ever think you could beat him at his own game?

[logicpng]

taking a break

[Image description in ALT]

[haggstroem]

scott does something to my brain. i blame bree if we're being honest

[onyourowndaisymae]

i'm really baffled at how obey me tricked me into an enemies to lovers arc with solomon bc i really did not like his rancid vibes when i first started playing but now that man could commit arson in front of me and i'd giggle and twirl my hair

[compressedrage]

okay now you've gotten me spinning Dark and Victim, how dare you–

You're right, they were both never allowed to become anything other than the thing they were created to be.

They never even had a choice

The Chosen One– yeah. that's pretty open-ended, just look what happened to Anakin Skywalker

The Second Coming– that's really just a title, describing who he is

The Dark Lord– that's a little less open-ended, even without the mission code. But the mission code exists! He was forced into this two seconds after his creation, he doesn't know what it's like to live without it!

Victim– I mean, could you come up with a more depressing name? It's like The Second Coming; a descriptor for what he is. And he is a Victim. A Toy to be played with and manipulated. He never had a choice either, it's been baked into his code from the very beginning.

But now he's desperately trying to change that. Finding whatever kind of control he can and holding onto it with an iron grip. He's trying to change things.

Dark never truly got the chance to.

Someone please talk to me about Chosen and Dark, I need to rejuvenate my obsession with them

[fudgelling-away]

It's one of those days

Sans.

Sans.

sans sans sans

I wake up, mind foggy and disoriented. I go about my morning routine on autopilot. Empty eyes. Blank expression. Mind far away.

Sans.

Sans squirms under the covers, nuzzling into the warmth of my body.

I brush my teeth, unseeing eyes locked onto a random spot on the sink.

Sans lets out a low grunt and I growl, clenching my teeth on the toothbrush, foam all over my mouth.

How fitting.

I wash my face with shaky hands while Sans arches against my body in the most delicious way.

My hands trace his lumbar vertebrae, edges rounded and soft. He's such a gentle, non-threatening creature. Nothing about his body is harsh to the touch. No sharp angles. Nothing to attack with. No armour. Just inviting softness.

He is so human in that regard.

I rub the intervertebral discs with the tips of my fingers and feel the jelly-like surface yield under the careful pressure. His breath hitches and he whispers my name.

I sigh and start making tea, walking around the kitchen in a haze. My shift at work starts in 10 minutes.

Sans whines ever so softly as my hand reaches inside his hollow ribcage, caressing, massaging the warm bones.

I stop in the middle of the kitchen, spilled tea trickling down my arm onto the floor.

I watch the droplets fall.

Smooth bones shiver under my fingers.

I put the glass back on the counter and turn around lethargically to get some paper towels.

Teeth pressed against my lips. Ragged breath.

Sugar. I need to get a soap. Or the floor is going to be sticky.

"please, just... please"

The floor tiles are cold and smooth when I kneel down.

I can't see my kitchen anymore.

Sans leans into my hand needily as I wipe the sweat off his forehead.

It's going to be a torturously long day.

[jeeaark]

Ok, can I thawp emps? This is the second nightmare poor GG had D: Emps needs to snooze with him and comfort him when he has a nightmare! I’m sure Emps has nightmares too!! It would work both ways! WHERE IS EMPS! EMPS, GET YOUR FLAT SQUIDDY ASS HERE AND COMFORT YOUR SQUID-FRIEND!

Classic Sending Spell having a 5% chance to miss on a different plane~