#she is like and old person trying use slangs

[peranna]

i genuinely love Sky Eating Water so much you don't understand

[anti-transphobia]

If anyone wanted to know what it's like to be a trans person not aligned with masculinity online, I've had such a huge issue with both cis and transmasc people calling me dude and then arguing about it when I asked them not to that I had to set my nickname in discord servers as "don't call me dude/man/bro". That wasn't enough so I changed it to be in all caps and set my overall discord display name as "DONT CALL ME DUDE/MAN/BRO". Within a few hours I was @ed on a server I never talk in, a server where most of its members never talk because it's a mod development/compilation server so people are there for information and that's it, by an any pronouns trans person who hasn't spoken in that server in a YEAR and talked again specifically to misgender me

[torpublishinggroup]

"Warning Signs Your Machines Are Trying to Kill You!" by TJ Klune

(Legally, I’m required to tell you that when smart phones first became popular, I bought one and then asked for the address of the app store because I thought it was a physical location I had to go to in order to download apps and not something already on your phone. Also, I was recently told I speak like an old person so as a warning, there will not be any slang you youths typically hear, especially on Tumblr. Any slang I’ve learned in the last five years has been against my will. I still don’t know what FOMO means, and I don’t care.)

1. Oh no! You and your family are trying to enjoy a movie night, but Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) wants a sacrifice at the altar of their god, BeeZos. Should this happen, do not attempt to give Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) a cantaloupe with googly-eyes on it and say that it is your baby. Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) knows the difference between fruit and children. Instead, ask the machine to order dog food, and it will forget about eating humans for a little while.

2. If you own a very fancy vehicle that can drive itself, always make sure to carry a brick. That way, when the car locks you inside and attempts to drive you off a cliff into a gas station, you can break the window using the brick. You will then have to jump out, but make sure you do so in time so you can watch the wicked-ass explosion when the car hits the gas station, and you can revel in your victory over your car.

3. This one will hurt. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Chances are, you’re reading this on your phone right this second. To be safe, after you’ve finished reading this post and have clicked on the affiliated links to purchase my books, you should throw your phone into a volcano and then move to South Dakota where there are no machines, only wind and cows. That way, when everyone else gets the 5GZombieVirus that people on Twitter (I’m not calling it the other thing, shut up) seem to think is real, you’ll be safe with your cows on a windy day.

4. Get rid of your air fryer. Don’t ask me why, just do it. Red flags all around. Danger, danger.

5. Do you know of the Clapper? That thing first launched in the late 20th century (I wrote it that way to make me feel old) where the commercials showed cranky old people unable to reach their light switches, so they got a thing called a Clapper that turns your lights on and off when you clap? Guess what? Those will be the first things to try and kill you. If you love your gram-gram, save her from the Clapper. When she asks why you are destroying it with an ax, tell gram-gram it’s because you love her.

6. Do you live in a smart home? The kind where everything is connected to the internet, including your refrigerator? The refrigerator that holds your perishable foods? And oh, would you look at that: how many ice cubes have you kicked under it rather than picking them up when they fall to the floor? A dozen? A million? The refrigerator remembers. And it will spoil your food in seconds. What then? What are you going to eat? Canned food? Not if the refrigerator falls on top of you!

Unfortunately for you, this is where it must end. I hope this has given you enough information to help you survive the inevitable. If you do not heed my warnings, well. Who cares. I’m not in charge of you. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come complaining to me when gram-gram gets the clap.

[hemlock-dreams]

Hypothetically, if you were going to write hunting!spider as a fic, how would you do it? Like, where would the story start—with Peter as the bartender, or his backstory? Would you flash back to his old universe?

-🕊️

Like this: ITS A FIC NOW!!

Check is out: Here!

Peter hasn’t worn the suit since here got here. He hasn’t done much in the last two months of his new existence beyond haunting New York like a phantom, trying to figure out who he is and where he stands in a reality that hasn’t been unfortunate enough to have a Peter Parker in the first place.

Or a Spiderman.

Strange hadn’t been kidding about the magic. Peter feels like the victim of his own hubris, asking for a clean start, a world where no one knew him. He’d asked and he’d been delivered.

Almost. 

The world is there, technically, but it’s like looking at a painting he’s seen a thousand times, only to realize the details are off. It’s the phones with the home button on the bottom, the different slang, the green money, all his favorite songs with wildly different lyrics, so many painful differences- a slow death by a thousand cuts.

Peter thought it would be easier, like a new beginning stretching out ahead of him, the sea-breeze smell of a fresh start after stepping out of Ryker’s. 

But Uncle Ben isn’t waiting for him at the docks this time. Nothing is waiting except the uncanny arms of a city that used to know him. Like running into an ex after years apart, recognizing the same general shape, but being strangers all the same.

Damn it. He should have asked Strange to take his memories too.

At least then Peter would know what to do with himself instead of haunting Brooklyn at night like a ghost, fighting the cognitive dissonance of taking turns he used to know like the back of his hand, only to be startled when they lead into dead-ends or open out into streets that shouldn’t exist.

That’s why he hasn’t worn the suit. Because forget being Spiderman, who the hell is Peter, here?

His melancholy is interrupted by a woman’s voice, faint if not for Peter’s enhanced senses.

“Listen, you’re a sweet guy, but I don’t like mixing work and my personal life.” The voice is extra sweet in the way women get when trying to talk themselves out of a dangerous situation.

No matter the lifetime, Peter can’t ignore that.

So he changes course, beelining towards the source with silence that’s more instinct than experience. He sticks to the shadows, easily avoiding the few flickering streetlights between him and the alleyway. His night vision pierces the darkness, tracing down the detailed shape of the tall, lanky man cornering a woman in the middle of the alley. 

He’s leaning, off-balance, clearly drunk, and boxing her in with one leather-clad arm, “Come on, Scarlett. I been asking for your number for weeks. Just one date, give a guy a chance, huh?”

Well, it was comforting to know that no matter the timeline, scum remained scum. 

“Paul, you’re wasted.” The woman- Scarlett, is draped against the wall, seemingly at ease and deceptively loose-limbed, even as she fists a set of keys between her knuckles, “Why don’t we have this discussion somewhere a little nicer? There’s a cute cafe that’s open tomorrow-”

“Fuck that. It’s always one excuse after another with you,” The guy- Paul- snarls, swaying from one foot to the other. The frustration is a ticking bomb,  “Why are you bein’ such a fucking bitch?”

Like clockwork, the slurs come out, and a peaceful resolution is no longer an option.

Scarlett realizes it too, because the hum of anxiety lacing her syrupy-sweet tone finally bleeds into her body. Her muscles lock, visibly entering fight or flight. 

That’s Peter’s cue.

“Is there a problem?” Peter’s voice is like a knife in the dark, popping the bubble and making the two flinch.

“Who the fuck are you?” Paul sneers, face slack and ugly from drink. “The fuck you think you’re doing, butting in?”

Peter ignores him, glancing towards Scarlett, who flicks her eyes between them and the rest of the alleyway. Unfortunately, there’s only one entrance and he’s blocking it. Out of options, Scarlett plasters herself to the wall.

“This is between the lady and me.” Paul is still talking, stumbling towards Peter, “But I’m a nice guy, so I’m going to give you a chance to turn ‘round and walk away.”

“Generous, but I’ll have to decline.” Peter murmurs and crosses the distance, invading his space before the man can respond. The promise of violence always lights something in Peter’s stomach, but for all the man’s shit-talking, the fight, if it can even be called that, is pathetic. Paul is so drunk Peter can taste it in the air, and his spidersense doesn’t even bother kicking in as he dodges one wobbly punch after the other. 

He doesn’t bother dragging it out. It only takes one good fist to the gut to drop Paul to the ground, followed by one good kick to the chest to keep him there. The aftermath is anticlimactic, awkward silence punctuated only by the rattling wheeze of the unconscious man beneath him.

Even pulling his punches, Peter probably cracked his ribs. It would take more effort than he’s got to feel sorry, especially since Scarlett is still glued to the wall, eyes trained on him and practically vibrating with adrenaline.

Slowly, Peter creates some space, backing out of the alleyway so he’s not obstructing the exit. “You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah.” Her reply is curt and wary, but Peter isn’t offended. He knows what he looks like, looming in the dark with his ratty clothes and unkempt beard. Best thing he can do to convince her of her safety is to walk away. 

So he does just that, and he’s almost halfway down the block when he hears her behind him, clacking heels loudly in the chill night air, “Wait!”

Peter pauses, turning around. 

Scarlett stops a few meters away, clutching the strap of her gym bag over her chest. “Sorry. That was rude of me. Thank you.”

Under the streetlights, her face is striking. Her bright green eyes are smoky and sensual, with bold cheekbones and dark lips framed by wisps of red hair falling out of a messy bun. She’s exactly the type of woman Peter would fantasize about back in Rykers, the kind he would see on pinups in Marko’s cell- tall and feminine, with lean legs and a waist Peter could span with both hands. 

The resolute look on her face reminds him so much of M-

He shunts that thought as soon as it appears.

“Don’t worry about it,” Peter responds with a shrug. He’s not stupid enough to lecture a grown woman about walking the streets at night. “Was there something else?”

Scarlett chews on her lip, eyes flicking back to the alley before settling on Peter for a few long beats. Whatever she sees in him makes her sigh, and some of the tension leeches from her shoulders. “Feel like walking a girl to her job?” 

Peter is a little surprised, and he takes a second to consider, mostly so he doesn’t look threatening, then nods, “Where to?” 

“Maggies.” At his confused look, she raises a brow, “Saint Margaret’s?” 

Still not ringing a bell, “Is that a…church?” He doesn’t remember any Saint Margaret’s in his Brooklyn, and it just reinforces that fish-out-of-water feeling that’s been choking him for the past few months.

“A church, sure.” Scarlett snorts derisively, laughing under her breath. When Peter doesn’t join in, she shoots him a wide-eyed look, “Oh. You’re serious. It’s an dance bar”  

Walking at night makes more sense now. That, and the obvious stage name. “I don’t know where that is. I’m…kind of new in town.”

“I can see that,” She says, and the gold of her hoop earrings catches the light as she falls in step beside him. Peter keeps his strides short and even, staying in her line of vision as they walk. It doesn’t escape his notice that she’s still got her keys between her knuckles, though they’re no longer clutched in a tight fist, “What brought you to New York, Mr. Good Samaritan?”

“Peter.” He says. “I was looking for a fresh start and kind of washed up here,” Peter feels like he’s being called out on some lie, as if anyone glancing in his direction will peg that he doesn’t belong.

But Scarlet is just nodding, unawares, “Nice to meet you, Peter. And I get it. That's why I moved here, too. It might take a bit of time to get your bearings, but it's worth it when you do." They’re heading down the street, taking a turn on 81st that should have led into a main thoroughfare but doesn’t, instead turning into another little set of streets full of gated-off shops covered in graffiti. Even the gang signs don’t look the same. He tries not to think about it.

“I appreciate what you did,” Scarlett is saying, “Paul’s been a pushy bastard but I thought it was all drunk bravado, you know? I never believed he’d actually follow me. I’m glad you were there, but I’m sorry it had to end in violence.”

Resorting to violence is one of Peter’s favorite pastimes, but he’s absolutely not going to admit that out loud. Instead, he hums, tucking his hands into his stained hoodie, “Some people only listen when it's fists talking. Hopefully the lesson sticks.” Peter frowns, “You said he followed you, does that mean he knows where you live?”

Men like that tend to hold grudges. Especially if they've been had their head knocked around in an alleyway.

“Thank god, no.” She shudders next to him, gripping the strap of her bag a little tighter at the thought, “He caught me coming from my day job. I’ll have to tell Weasel to put him on the blacklist for the club though…and change my shift. Ugh.” 

Peter nods in sympathy. Shiting schedules between two jobs is going to be a nightmare. “Weasel?” 

“The owner of Maggie’s.” She clarifies.

“Your boss is named Weasel?” Yikes. Peter can’t imagine what kind of shit someone had to do to earn that nickname.

“Yeah.” She laughs, “But don’t let the name fool you, he’s weird but he’s decent. There are lots of other clubs in the area but Weas lets us have a bigger cut than most other places. Plus, we get to set our own rules.” 

They cut the street, avoiding some dark patches where the streetlights gave out.

“That’s good.” Peter agrees, “Otherwise this is a pretty sketchy walk for a small paycheck.”  

It really is a sketchy walk, and his spidersense pings at odd moments, though nothing comes out of it save the odd junkie that wanders out of the shadows.

“I’ve had worse,” Scarlett shrugs, finally tucking her keys back into her purse. The stiff line of her shoulders has completely melted away now that they’re in what Peter assumes is familiar territory. “This is nothing compared to my last job.” 

“Which was?” 

“Telemarketing.”

Peter would rather take his chances soloing Thanos. “Point taken.” 

“We’re almost there. Just down the road.” Scarlett points one long acrylic nail toward a looming brick building punctuating the street. Peter wouldn’t have given it a second thought if not for the single garish neon sign of a scantily dressed nun at the corner, directing his attention towards a nondescript door.

“Welcome to Saint Margaret’s School for Wayward Children,” Scarlett enunciates each word with an eyebrow waggle, grinning when Peter cracks a smile. “Finest entertainment this side of Brooklyn. Thanks for walking me.” 

Peter doesn’t doubt it, especially if Scarlett is where they set the bar for dancers. “No worries. Stay safe, yeah?” Then he turns, intending to keep walking until his head is empty.

Scarlett pauses with her hand on the door, “You’re not going to come in?” 

“Not really my scene.” A true statement, one that doesn’t have to acknowledge that Peter is capital-b Broke. Hard to get a proper-paying job when he doesn’t legally exist. He’s done a few gigs under the table, but the last few weeks have left Peter sleeping on empty rooftops with an emptier stomach. 

“Really? I was hoping I could treat you to a drink. It’s the least I can do.” Scarlett sounds disappointed.

“You don’t owe me anything.” 

She puts a hand on her hip, “Fine. Let’s consider it a celebratory drink then.”

“For?”

“Ugh,” Scarlett rolls her eyes. There’s no way she doesn’t know how charming that is. “For getting rid of Paul. Making new friends- whatever you want.”

Peter huffs a small laugh, “Friends? We just met.” 

It’s not an outright refusal, because Peter is weak for the first real taste of human contact he’s had in months, and Scarlett smirks like she scents blood, “What can I say? I got a good feeling about you.”

Peter snorts. Now that’s a first. 

“C’mon, Tiger. One drink. What have you got to lose?”

Peter exhales a long, slow breath, “Nothing.”

[prettiestgrlinthemorguexo]

Swipe (Lucifer morningstar x reader)

Description: after his divorce, he finally gets back into the dating game…through a dating app :)

Please note I’m writing this before the release of ep7 and ep8 so-

Takes place between ep 5 and right before ep 6

I wrote nearly 98% of this at like 3 AM-

Part 1 of 3

Warning: Lucifer being a dork, Lucifer being a dorky dad, age gap(reader died at like 25 and Lucifer is like a good few thousands years old so), talk of divorce, Charlie being a supportive daughter, I’ve never used a dating apps so i might get info wrong, Lucifer doesn’t know modern day technology or slang, lying, Lucifer straight up cat fishing reader,

No one’s POV

Lucifer was a wreck after his divorce with Lilith. Becoming the shell of the man he was, going from a family-oriented to a man who barely talk to anyone. After visiting his daughter and her hotel, he knew he had to be there, he already missed so much he wasn’t gonna miss another second of it. Becoming the best father he could also meant moving on, it’s been seven years since the separation. Charlie knew her Dad had been in pain since the divorce but she could tell, he was trying and she was going to be there.

Lucifer’s POV

“Charlie, are you sure about this?” I ask still hesitant, I knew Charlie just wanted to help and had the best intentions, but a dating app?  “Of course!” Charlie exclaimed, face lite up. “It’s perfect! You get to meet people without the face to face interactions!” Charlie said downloading the app, viva by Voxtech.

Charlie’s was more excited than I was, I wanted to meet people but an app? I can’t help but feel my heart race and my body get heavy, why was I this nervous. In the middle of my overthinking Charlie handed me the phone, it had a profile made it had my name and many details. It felt like I was giving it to all 9 rings of hell! “Ok! How we gotta add some photos an-“

“Charlie!”

We both turned are head to see Alastor and Vaggie standing there. “Can you help with something real quick?” Vaggie ask seeming annoyed. “Of course!” Charlie’s called back before as standing up. “You go ahead and add those photos dad I’ll be back!” Charlie said as she ran to the two, leaving me alone on the couch staring at the screen. 

I read over the info and it all was so…personal. How would anyone be comfortable putting this much out? I Don’t get me started with being the King of Hell it’s self, then an idea popped in my head. I turn my head slightly to see Charlie still talking to the pair so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I added photos of my duck inventions and made a duck with a white top hat as my ‘icon’. Now onto the name, Lucifer was too out there everyone would know, think! L names that are similar.

Lucifer..

Luci…

Luc…

Luca..

Luca! I instantly think changing the name quickly, removing the last name from the profile along with it. After that it looked like a normal profile. When I finished and satisfied with it Charlie was walking back over. “Sorry bout that dad! Now back to w-.” While she was speaking I shove my phone in my pocket and stand up. “No it’s fine! I set it up!” I nearly screamed it out as I stood from the couch. Charlie stared at me shock for a moment before her normal bright smile returned to her face. “Wow that’s great!” She said as she walked over “Look at you getting the hang of technology!” Charlie said happily. I didn’t know why I was so nervous by an app, but it was on my mind. After finishing talking to Charlie I was able to leave, soon I was back in my bedroom. I let out a sigh and feel onto the massive bed and pulled out my phone, Viva still open.

Y/N POV

Left..Left..Left..

God this app was a never ending app of swiping left on people wanting hook-ups was tiring. This was the last time I’d take F/N advice and use a dating app, the fact they exist in hell was already surprising. It was nude after nude of people looking for a hookup. Then something different popped up, instead of the naked body I almost have gotten used to, I was greeted by a rubber duck with a white top hat. My eyes widen a bit as I layed there I swipped to look at the second photo, more ducks. I then moved and read the bio. “Luca..” I said quietly to myself reading the short info. I looked at the photos and the bio, it stood out in the sea of profile, i stair a while longer…

…Right.

“CONGRATS! YOU GOT A MATCH!” Popped up on my screen in red shades, with the little duck icon. “…that was quick” I think to myself. I click on the little message option.

Y/N - Hi :)

No ones POV

Lucifer layed there looking at the profiles, this was dating. More like brothel. He could barely understand, after swiping left a few times he chose to just turn off his phone, it was a mistake to think an app could help. Almost as soon as Lucifer sat his phone down his phone went off, illuminating the room …then it went off again.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow picking up his phone to see two notifications, both from Viva. Seeing a match with someone named Y/N and a message from them. Lucifer felt himself lose the ability to breathe, “A match?” Lucifer asked himself, confused on what that meant, he open the Add to be greeted my the words “CONGRATS! YOU GOT A MATCH!” And the icon that belong to Y/N.

The icon was a photo of Y/N. Lucifer’s eyes lit up and he finally let out a breath. He admired their features. Their H/C H/L that looked perfect, their E/C eyes drew him in. He clicked the image see their profile, he was greeted my a normal photo of you, it stood out. Lucifer saw the message illuminating in corner of the screen, he let out a breath and opened the message and saw a simple

Y/N - “Hi :)”

I sat their staring at the message before typing himself

Luca - Hi

Time skip (why? Because I fucking said so.)

Over the past few weeks, Lucifer and Y/N talked every day. Learning every little detail of each other. Lucifer learned about your job, your friends, how you lived and how you died even. He couldn’t help but want to know everything.

Y/N learned he had a daughter and that he’d been “recently divorced”, his words not theirs. Y/N learned that he loves ducks and creating new duck toys, he was a big dork, like a big puppy dog. Of course you didn’t know you were talking to Lucifer himself, you thought you were talking to a man named Luca…

During Lucifer’s now frequent visit to his daughter and her little Hazbin hotel, Charlie couldn’t help but notice how her dad was one his phone more then usual, usual being never. Naturally, Charlie was curious. “Sooo..” Charlie started, a little unsure what to say about her fathers new found internet obsession. “Who are you talking to?” Charlie ask curious.

Lucifer was quick to meet his daughters eyes and quickly put his phone face down on the table . “No one!” He said in an almost scream, before it buzzed again..and again…and again. Charlie eyes went between her dads now sweating face and and his phone. Before Lucifer could even react, Charlie reached for his phone. “Wait!” Lucifer said reaching for his phone from her hands, the phone screen lite up and Charlie was greeted my 4 notifications from someone named Y/N from Viva. Charlie gasp turning quickly turning to face him, Charlie’s face lite up like Christmas lights. “YOUR TALKING TO SOMEONE?!” Charlie squealed from excitement, since she helped set up his password she quickly opened his phone to see more.

“Charlie don’t-“ Lucifer started to say before seeing her face fall from its happy to confused. “Wait..” Charlie said looking at his profile, “why is your name ‘Luca’?” Charlie ask her eyes moving from his phone finally to be greeted with Lucifer’s red face “well…,” Lucifer started, “I wasn’t comfortable putting my name and photo on there so…I put a different name and photo.” Charlie’s face went from suprise to more annoyed, not angry, just disappointed. “Dad you can’t just do that!” Charlie said to her father, her free rubbing her face. “You can’t just catfish her!”

Lucifer looked confused, catfish? Like the animal? “Catfish?” Lucifer asked, truly not understanding the term. “Yes dad you can’t just lie about who you are to someone like that!” Charlie said scolding her father. Lucifer after that was able to put two and two together, the weight of what he’s been hit him like a bus. “Dad,” Charlie said letting out a sigh, “you have to come clean to them.” She said as she handed him his phone. “Char ITS not that easy!” Lucifer said taking the phone from then hand seeing them newest text, her caring words, them asking if he he’s eaten, remind him to take care of himself, her word hit his heart hard. “It’s not a normal situation, I’m the king of hell, not some random sinner!” Lucifer said he eyes not leaving the illuminated screen. “Dad, they’re gonna find out sooner or later, it’s better if you do it now, early into you talking then later..”

Lucifer stated quiet, he knew deep down she was right, he did truly like them and want more with them, he could only imagine how you’d react if he waited much longer it’s already been a few weeks… Lucifer let out a sigh and looked up at his daughter. “your right..” he said quietly, “I’ll tell them just…give me time..” Charlie stared for a moment before letting before smiling again. “Just do it soon dad…” Lucifer knew she was right.

Later that night Lucifer layed in his bed, looking at her last message, contemplating how to tell them, shoudl he texted it, no they’d think he’s joking, “maybe…” he though out loud. “A FaceTime..?” He asked himself, no, he didn’t even know how to start one… maybe…a date? You’d know he wasn’t lying about being satan himself, he could explain better then over a device and he could only imagine how beautiful you were in person… Lucifer looked down at the message you last send hesitation purged his mind, but slowly he began to type.

Luca - hey, can I ask you something?

Y/N - of course ask anything! :)

Luca - I was thinking he could go out sometime? Like a date going out.

After a a minute he saw you typing a new message. He could already feel his heart race a mile a minute, he felt a cold sweat form. Why was he so nervous? Then a little buzz when off, it was you he was hesitant but swipe to open the message.

Y/N - wait really? You wanna go on a date with me??

Lucifer swallowed the lump in his throat before typing with shaky fingers.

Luca - yes Y/N I really do.

Y/N - Yes I’d love to!! ❤️

Lucifer’s eyes lit up seeing you answer in only seconds, he can’t help but feel his heart flutter at the simple heart emoticon. Soon you both planned to meet for dinner the next night at a nice restaurant, named killer appetite, closer to the center of pentagram city, then he hit him…you both were actually going on a date. Together…

Y/N’s POV

When I saw his message asking me out, I could have screamed. He actually wanted to see me! I quickly typed and agreed to it. We chose dinner at a nice high end restaurant closer to the center of the city, I’ve heard of the place it was up scale. I was so ecstatic.

The next day at work couldn’t have gone slower, it felt like every minute was a hour long but as soon as that clock hit five, I was out the door racing home to get ready.As soon I was ready, my hair and outfit was perfect. I was quick out the door to the restaurant. On my way I received a message from Luca.

Luca - hey! Placed a reservation under L.M.

“L.M?” I asked myself, wondering what it meant, maybe his initials? I smile and replied ok,only a few minutes later I was at the restaurant, even though it was only 7 the restaurant was lively, full and packed. I walked over to the hostess stand.

“Hi, there should be a reservation for L.M?” I felt nervous, a mix of because of how busy it is and meet him…when I said the name of the reservation the hostess gave changed a mix of nervousness and excitement. “Of course! Right this way!” She said trying to put on a happy face but the nerves over shadowed that, she let me to a table already set up in a quieter area, almost completely different from the bustling atmosphere of the restaurant. “your server will be with you shortly, please enjoy!” She said as she raced out the room. I staired at the entrance way confused, why was that girl so nervous, and to have such a secluded area on a Friday night, it was unusual…

I sat down at the table that faced the entrance way. I pulled out my phone to text me.

Y/N - Hey! I just sat down! We have a really nice table, are you almost here? :)

I saw he read the text but no reply, I felt nervous again, my eyes kept watching my phone, my mouth was dry. But then I heard a voice “sorry I’m late..” the voice sounded nervous. I look up to a short blonde man. My eyes widen and my mouth is dry…

I was looking at Lucifer himself…

TAG LIST

@reverse-soe @kazurami14 @netheris @rainycloud858

[lowkeyrobin]

Platonic Ghostbusters x social media manager! Reader?

oooo hell yeah!! ; thanks for requesting and I hope u enjoy :)

GHOSTBUSTERS ; social media manager

summary ; you run the official ghostbusters social media platforms

warnings ; language

word count ; 746

masterlist

Podcast wanted to run the official Ghostbuster social media's but was quickly turned down at that. They needed someone who could actually be on top of that kind of stuff and whatnot. So, Stanz made a deal with Podcast that they'd get a social media manager, and he could act as their teammate with that, basically. Giving them ideas, giving them video clips and extra details, etcetera.

Most of the others didn't see a real reason for a social media manager, but as long as it wasn't their money.

Trevor offered to just do everything himself, but that was obviously turned down as well. The teens all agreed not to let the adults run the account either. They didn't need millennial - Gen X / Boomer humor flooding the whole account and making them look bad.

And that's where you came in.

surprisingly, Pheobe was the one to find you. she's seriously the most chronically offline person ever so the fact she ever opened Instagram was a miracle in itself

lots of talking back and forth and meeting the original four three ghostbusters to get input, then meeting callie & garry and the teenagers

you actually figured out that you used to be friends with Lucky as well, damn

you had managed social media accounts before, but you'd recently quit a few of those because of labor laws being broken so, yknow

you quickly formed a bond with Lucky, Trevor, and Podcast. you were kind of close in age to all three of them and they were all invested in the public image for the brand

setting the Instagram up was genuinely the funnest thing ever

the four of you were chilling in the living room in the firehouse (since sleepover stuff, pheobe was in her room reading) and you had your laptop in your lap and the three of them over your shoulders

the amount of laughing and cackling got some scolding from callie upstairs

it took everything out of you to not make the first post a video of trevor being soaked in Slimer's slime (which had been recorded by Lucky just by coincidence as they were investigating the attic again)

the first three posts, which were pinned, all lined up to be like a banner kind of logo with the theme song in the back, and they all played the same video, clips of the og ghostbusters and how they grew and then the new ghostbusters

the tiktok is its own thing, you allowed trev, lucky, podcast (and pheobe) to run it, but everything had to be ran by you first because pr shit

but thankfully no boomer humor or slang is ever being put on those accounts

most of those people don't even know wtf the internet is anyways lol

stanz has a personal vendetta against you /hj after you posted a .5 of him for relatable promo. he had no idea what you were doing but it was criminal that you made his forehead look so much more bigger than it already was

Winston gives you a bunch of old pics to post to trending angst sounds as well LOL

let's not talk about that tiktok where you, lucky, and trevor dance to/remake submissive and breedable by smosh ft bbno$, okay?

^podcast and pheobe were behind the camera cackling the whole time

lots of random pic posts on the insta as well because why not (most of them are the teens looking awkward, callie, gary & lars trying to look like cool scientists, or venkman, stanz, zeddemore & melnitz being classic, sassy old people)

the socials are never professional whatsoever, it's fun but it's not heavily controversial or obvious that you're there as a pr manager basically or just to manage the socials

like man they don't have the time to look at all the comments, take all the advice, reply to fans, etc

I mean that wage ain't that bad either LMAO

trevor is always bitching about how you make more money than he does /lh

you're not just a representative to them, you're actually family. you're just cool like that

"bro y/n is such a mc I hate them" and you'll reply on your personal w a "says you, reality shifter" or smthn LMAO idfk

always reposting ghostbuster edits / fanart etc because fandom culture 🙏

also I can't get over the fact the ghostbuster theme song is canon now either. yk damn well that shit is plastered everywhere thanks to you 💀

"do the ghostbusters respond??" "stanz said he loves your dog" "HELP HSEIJDLAKE"

10/10 experience

[slothkittfunsies]

Deep Dive into the issues on Alastor.

CONTENT WARNING: Racism, Aphobia.

Now that I created a blog specifically for stuff like this, It's time for the dive.

Alastor is a character that resonates with me, because this guy is supposed to represent me and my people (aspec/aroace community) and I liked his pilot personality. (That went to shit)

This man got so many issues, that i have to take the pen myself and scribble what Vivzie has wrote. So, Let's start, shall we?

THE DESIGN

The first time I saw the Hazbin pilot, I got confused about what Alastor was supposed to be. I thought he was just a grey human wearing some kind of animal ears until the fandom said he is a deer.

A deer. Let that sink in.

(Images for comparsion)

As someone passionate about the arts, this upset me. Sure, I haven't been to art school, but even I know you need to put the backstory and features in mind when designing a character.

Character design is NOT throwing things at the wall and seeing which sticks. It needs actual critical thinking. If your audience is confused about your character's species, it's time to go back to the drawing table (unless you have a reason for making it mysterious.)

Second, the overabundance of red is awful in terms of color theory. This guy is in Hell, which is also red, causing an eyesore. I got a headache when trying to focus on him on a red background. And also, colors have meaning. People associate red with danger, so the fact he even managed to get victims to kill makes me puzzled.

Also, the fact he's supposed to be mixed/black makes this design even worse. Why is he grey instead of brown, perhaps? Vivzie has a pattern of making POCs grey-skinned, which is, again, awful.

I think Vivzie only made him a POC due to the voodoo issue. I mean, just remove the symbols and you are done. But nah the symbols are too "aesthetic" to remove. So gotta change his race.

She could have used another symbols, like THIS for example:

Since, you know, he's the "Radio Demon"?

THE BACKSTORY

Ok, this where I'm very confused.

Alastor is a radio host, and also a serial killer. He was born in the USA, got killed by a deer hunter by mistake, and lived in the 1920's.

This is what I gathered from being a superfan back then, and it sounds unorganised/cluttered. And the years he lived in make his design even worse. (Again! His clothing doesn't speak the 1920s!)

The fact he's from an old era, and yet speaks in modern slang is weird. He's supposed to hate anything modern, and yet he does it anyway? His saying "fuck" multiple times is so out of character for him. I guess the "If made by Vivziepop" memes have some truth.

Putting the fact he's mixed, makes the backstory more confusing. How did he manage to be a popular radio host at the time before the civil rights movement became a thing? He will have been put down like the rest of the POCs in America. Either that he's white-passing, or it's VERY difficult. Adding the fact he's a serial killer makes me think how the cops didn't get to him (the mere fact he's black should have got him questioned in 1920s America)

Now, for his identity. I'm mad he's the only aroace character in the sea of gays and bisexuals. (I'm not saying gay men and bisexual people should not have representation. I have to say that due to tumblr's piss poor reading comprehersion)

which made me go through on why Vivzie made him aroace in the first place. I don't know if this is true, but I heard she made him aroace because "he only loves himself"

Um. Here we go again with allos assuming we are non-empathic psychopaths for our lack of sexual or/and romantic attraction. I hope that's not true at all, but knowing Vivzie's past, I wouldn't be surprised.

Alastor would have been a great character if another person took care of it instead of Vivziepop. What I'm gonna say is, wasted potential.

[the-oblivious-writer]

Carpenter Sisters Headcanons

Sam Carpenter & Tara Carpenter

Notes: Just some headcanons of my favorite sisters (aka my beloveds). Wanted to give you something since I've been pretty inactive this month partly due to the Christmas special I'm planning (which is coming soon) I also just love Sam & Tara sm, they will forever live on no matter what

Sam Carpenter

We should all already know this but, Sam is all the above when it comes to Tara. Big sister? Check. Dad? Check. Mom? Check, check, check

Makes Tara carry around a bunch of self-defense weapons like a taser, pepper spray etc

Texts like an old man. She doesn't know a whole bunch of "text lingo" so Tara uses that to her advantage. She'd text you "Kys" thinking it meant "keep yourself safe" because that's what Tara told her. She definitely uses these emojis: 😂 🙂

Is completely lost when it comes to "slang terms" and abbreviations. Tara: "You ate that Sam." Sam: "Ate what? I'm not even eating." Tara's laughed/made fun of her for it while Sam remains confused

Hates being called Samantha. It reminds her of how her mother would scold and ridicule her. When Tara started calling her Sammy, she couldn't be any happier with the given nickname

Never got Tara's love for Horror growing up, but tried to understand for her. In her opinion, it's illogical how most of the characters act, but Tara likes it so she doesn't mind giving it another try

Definitely introverted. She's more outgoing with people she's comfortable with; Tara, Mindy, Chad. Growing up, she never socialized a lot

Will always set everybody else's plate before her own

The Core Four have game nights and it can get... intense. Let's just say on multiple occasions (whether that was Tara buying her out during monopoly or Chad and Mindy giving her yet another +4 in Uno) she has been extremely close to flipping the table

Could laugh to the point where she's gasping for air, I can imagine her and the Core Four just wheezing over the dumbest things

Definitely had "the world doesn't understand me so I cope by blasting music very loudly in my room, not gaf who I piss off" phase. One of the songs she would blast was Creep by Radiohead (canon event. I can't interfere.)

Tara Carpenter

Could sleep anywhere, and always sleeping any chance she gets. I'd say she's a night person, and hates being woken up so early in the morning. And I can imagine she's a sleep talker too

Growing up she had a favorite stuffed animal she carried around everywhere with her and refused to sleep without it

She was a thumbsucker growing up, which she was teased for

Never learned how to ride a bike

She's always hated needles. Whenever she was forced to get a shot when she was younger, she refused to take it without Sam being in the room with her. Sam would let Tara squeeze her hand as tightly as she needed to

Cannot drive for shit. I just know this woman is a bad driver, Sam and the others just hold on to dear life and cross their fingers when Tara gets into the driver's seat

Her car is a complete mess, like you'll just find the randomist stuff in there. There's probably no limit to what you could find if you just try hard enough

She wakes up in the weirdest positions and thinks, "How tf did this even happen-"

Bullies kids on roblox (I don't make the rules)

If someone messes with Sam, they better count their days

She can get soo competitive. If she's winning, you'll know. Can get cocky when celebrating, chanting and everything

Her, Chad, and Mindy would put together one of those "performances" when they were little in order to convince Sam to let them stay up late or have a sleep over. Sam said yes every time

Tara's a shark defender. She believes they're extremely misunderstood creatures

-----------

A/N: I need a Sam & Tara for Christmas

[starless-planet]

Being terminally online but only on tumblr and youtube just makes it so you’re forced to go through accidental humiliation rituals irl. Absolute lose-lose situations.

Several months back I started my first ever big person job out of college. My coworkers’ (despite most of them being my peers) exposure to the internet largely stops at Tiktok and Facebook.

It was about one month in when I looked over at my coworker’s computer and see she’s looking at pictures of the onceler on google images.

Obviously my blood freezes in my veins but I go “Hey whatcha looking at over there?” And she explains to me she is planning on putting a photo of “The guy from The Lorax” in our coworker’s locker because he looks like him.

But as she keeps scrolling she’s… discovering. She’s having an experience I wish I could have shared with her instead of looking on like I’m seeing corpses strewn about a battlefield. She’s seeing the art. She’s baffled. “Why would people draw that? What’s going on?” she wonders. She is 24 years old. “People are weird.” I say. It’s all I can say. I’m new here and we are at what is essentially a help desk where guests can come up and talk to us at any time. I leave it be. She finally chooses a normal photo to print.

Later I’m having a conversation about it with another coworker and she goes “oh yeah. Well, apparently on Reddit it was a thing to like… you know… want that guy and the Lorax to kiss.”

I almost lost it, guys. I was screaming in my head. There was an entire 2 hour youtuber essay being held back because I was unwilling to expose myself. I had to just look her in the eye and go “yeah that’s crazy lol.” There was no discussion about the self-ship art. That went right over their heads I think.

A few months later and I’m making jokes to my other coworkers about which president they would marry and my friend pipes up “we should make a tumblr about really hot presidents, guys.” Now this time I only had a moment to suffer the weight of Hamilton Tumblr before she said “It’s too bad none of us have a tumblr and it’s dead.”

(Now before you go and think she’s just doing a bit I later confided in her I have multiple tumblr accounts and she was like “Oh. Good for you!” and promised me she didn’t have one. I believe her.)

Then we come to Columbo Night. Columbo Night is when we all get together and watch Columbo. I was doing a bit where I didn’t know what drugs were (well half of a bit, because I don’t actually know too much about them).

I mentioned learning about angel dust in DARE, but when everyone asked what that was I had to admit I didn’t know which specific drug it was slang for. So they looked it up on urban dictionary. They find this:

They lose their minds trying to figure out what was going on with this definition.

I kept my mouth glued shut.

They learn it’s from Hazbin Hotel. “I think Hazbin Hotel is a web comic?” someone pipes up.

I’m staring at the floor in front of me. The handful of youtube video essays I’ve watched on the show are playing out in front of me. I’m counting my blessings I’ve never actually watched it.

They’re having conflicting opinions about the art style. I’m gripping the edge of my seat.

And then, it’s time for Columbo, and it’s all over. Just as quickly as it started, it ended. Thank you Columbo.

[he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle]

Interesting Linguistic Notes from Jun & Jun episode 4

In her phone conversation with Choi Jun, Young does not exactly call herself his "fiancé."

She uses the word 구녀로서, which roughly translates to "as your woman." 구녀 when used alone means "she/old woman," but when paired with 로서 (which means to do something as a person who holds a specific status) it transforms into the idea more along the lines of being that person's singular girl. So you'll sometimes see it translated to "as your old woman" because it's more akin to the slang way we refer to our moms and wives than it is to the way we might say "I'm your woman" to refer to ourselves as your romantic partner. It's less about the state of romantic ownership and more about the old and familiar. I don't know why the translation team chose to translate it as fiancé, unless it's possible they have access to later scripts and know something we don't. But even then, we can probably anticipate that she's not an official fiancé, but rather someone their parents expect him to marry.

My current bet is just on her being overly familiar with Choi Jun, as we saw from her speech patterns in the car ride with both Juns earlier that morning. When she realizes that she already calls Choi Jun "Jun-i Oppa" (an intimate and affectionate way to refer to an older male/brother, as spoken by a female) and she has to call Lee Jun something different, any normal Korean who wanted to breech that level of familiarity would suggest "Lee Jun Oppa" as a way to differentiate the two. But she's been raised in the US too and leaps into suggesting "Jun-i Eonni" (an intimate and familiar way to refer to an older woman/sister, as spoken by a female). Lee Jun comedically bristles at that, saying he'd rather she kept calling him "Pigeon" instead. But she doesn't care and brushes right past societal norms and even still refers to him as Eonni later in her phone conversation with Choi Jun. Choosing this is intentionally queer-coded language as well (because her Korean is otherwise so good, and she doesn't seem to be joking). It's like calling a gay man "girl," or "sister," or "queen."

Speaking of the ways others address Lee Jun, it's important to note that in the final scene Simeon repeatedly calls him 우리 이준씨, which basically translates "my Lee Jun." He's not speaking intimately, but he is claiming ownership. This is why we see Hyun Jae's bewildered and sad expression and Choi Jun's stunned and jealous expressions.

Finally, I'll share a tidbit that caused some confusion when @bengiyo watched the episode and take my comment out of the notes on Ben's post and put it here. In his breakroom conversation with Lee Jun, I think it VERY LIKELY Hyun Jae was vaguing about M/M relationships. Because Korean culture is still VERY homophobic, he was trying to feel out how accepting Lee Jun is towards diversity and possibly even invite him into a queer space. He begins by saying, "you know, people have different values depending on the environments they've lived in," and ends with "diversity is valued these days." But instead he "dug his own grave" because Lee Jun's brain immediately went to the morning's events and the confusion he feels from it all (particularly being invited to do a sexual favor for a man who then later received a kiss on the cheek from an overly familiar woman) and he basically said NO, SOME THINGS ARE TOO DIVERSE.

I expect we'll see Lee Jun try to draw more boundaries with Choi Jun, not because he's a man (he flirted back after all) and not because he's his boss (although that may play a role), but mostly because his current impression is that Choi Jun isn't serious. He thinks he flirts like this all the time because he's too American.

@absolutebl I'm tagging you again because you're a linguistic geek too!

[creativity-deficient]

Random Tweek Tweak hcs bc im thinking bout him yet again :)))

-Has an undiagnosed anxiety disorder, made worse by the increased use of Methamphetamine over the years and mistaken for adhd (canon/implied canon), which I do like to think DOES have as well. He is also on the autism spectrum.

-Has mild Seborrheic dermatitis, a skin condition that causes red and flaky patches of skin and usually flares up due to stress. It starts mainly on his head/under his hair as a kid but worsens in his teens years. Also has dermatillomania (a skin picking disorder), as well. Both of these become a lot worse in his teen years, with the addition of meth induced skin sores and hormonal acne to boot, but do become a lot more manageable for him as an adult. Still however, he does have some faint scars from all the picking and scratching over the years.

-Small tubby lil guy :) (sorta?? implied canon??), below average in height and considerably pudgy compared to most of his peers (genetics/stress eating). Loses a lot of this weight in his teen years due to health issues, but does gain a lot of it back as an adult. Also has a pudgy baby face that he never quite grows out of, even as an adult.

-His eyes a blue hazel, a rare eye color

-Sometimes snaps and hums to calm himself down.

-Enjoys baking as a casual hobby, though he’s still an amateur and doesn’t know how to make much. (implied canon)

-Once joined every school club because he had an anxiety attack and couldn’t decide what to pick

-Habitual nail chewer, again something he usually does due to stress. Nails are very short and stubby because of this

-Bandages on his fingers due to burns, skin picking, and nail biting

-Chronic ice-chewer

-Never learns to tie his shoes. Kept tripping over his laces before finally taking them out. Untied laces to laceless shoes to crocs to socks with sandals to velcro shoes pipeline

-Also never learns to drive, too much stress. Forever in his passenger princess era ✨

-Lowkey a backseat driver, though not in a “know it all” type of way. He mostly just freaks out the entire time.

-Can not sleep in the car because he’s afraid the second he closes his eyes, they’ll crash.

-Doesn’t know much slang/internet lingo and has absolutely no idea what his peers are talking about half the time (pretends he does and usually just ends up looking stupid 😔)

-Has a fear of rubberhose cartoons, as well as those weird old stop motion Christmas movies (he just finds them unsettling)

-Told about the secret family recipe as a teenager by his father, and is reasonably freaked out about it. Is forced to keep his mouth shut about it and suffers through major withdrawals before his parents are eventually exposed and arrested for the distribution of meth/counts of child abuse. Spends most of his high school years in therapy and rehab, though it’s all made easier with Craig by his side

-He and Craig try breaking up their freshman year of high school, both of them feeling like they need to try new things for a bit. It lasts about a week before they get back together.

-TERRIFIED of scissors and refuses to let anyone come near him with them. Grows his hair out long as a teenager before finally caving in and shaving it off as a young adult. He now keeps it managed, but Craig is the only person he trusts to do so.

-Did once try to cut his own hair in middle school though, and he spent weeks looking like a train-wreck before finally letting his mom fix it.

-His relationship with his mom is considerably better than his relationship with his father, and though he never quite forgives her for what she’s done, the two of them are able to reach some sort of closure with each other in Tweek’s older age

[codename-adler]

Oohhh a French speaking AFTG fan!

Can I ask what’s the general opinion on the Marseille accent? What do Canadians think of it? Is it fancy? Or rough?

ouhh what a question anon! i'm tagging @givemethedamnflowers so she can help me out too if u want to <3

also i don't speak for all Franco Canadians / Québécois. fiy. ya know.

as a Québécoise first and foremost (Canadian comes 2nd in how i view my identity), and as someone WHO HAS A MOREAU FROM MARSEILLES in my close family, i love the accent. to me it's somehow much less grating than the Parisian accent (not the international French accent, that one's ok) despite being much more pronounced and how do you say... quirky? not weird, but like it's definitely peculiar. special! i like it a lot. it also makes me love Jean Moreau even more because it adds character, an edge, another area of fondness. i personally think it's very easy to spot, but contrary to the north of France, it's easier to understand.

i would say the most northern accents are much rougher, more difficult to understand than Marseilles or Paris, also because of the disparity in colloquialisms and regional expressions. but i do love them so. Bourgogne?? Normandie?? oh how lovely. and then down down down down south, neighbor to Marseilles, l'Occitanie (a fave)!!! oh and la Corse!!! so so beautiful to me. music to my ears. maybe bc, as Québécoise, like i said, i feel a little kinship with those regions' accents, bc the Paris/Île-de-France spit upon our accents as shitty, ridiculous, "not real French" or generally make fun of us, like we're somehow less smart bc of the way we pronounce things and speak with our accent. in my experience! and trust me, i've had a lottttttt of 'em. so the little scene where Jean keeps being annoyed by Thea calling him 'Paris' when he's from Marseilles? ACCURATE & GOLDEN! made me smile.

that being said, as it has been discussed many many times in the fandom, characters like Neil, Kevin and Jean, and even Andrew and Nicky, have such wild backgrounds, with how much they move around geographically + their mixed heritage, that all of them must have unique accents you can't really pin down. Jean left Marseilles at 14, was homeschooled, then forced to learn Japanese then English, in West Virginia, from native Japanese speakers. he doesn't have the Marseilles slang, the refs; his French is stuck at that level and it can't progress, and he also probably loses a lot of it, breaking down over time. finding his words must be a a nightmare. imagine trying to translate a word that isn't even considered French nor translatable outside of Marseilles' region!!! also, how old were his parents? what generation of slang has he picked up by default? or was he, sadly, taught international French?

SO MANY QUESTIONS! UGH! aftg & languages, French specifically, give me a headache (and heartache) every time.

i would say, watch films and series! please! from every part of the Francophonie around the world! Belgium, Louisiana Cajun, Acadia, Québec, Marseilles, Niger... it's a beautiful language, despite his devastating shameful hand in colonization and racism. the way the people forced to learn and speak it to survive have all found ways to make it theirs in infinite ways that help the language evolve and become richer. French is as much theirs now, if not more. French is much more that than the Republic. French is not Paris.

thank you again anon for allowing me to go off on a tangent, and apologies if there are any mistakes, misinformation or harmful things. please let me know kindly and i'll own to it and correct anything that needs correcting!

[staawberru]

Yandere psychologist x reader pls

Male Yandere psychologist x gn reader

hiiiii thank you so much for your request you didn’t specify a gender so I just went with gender neutral! 2.7k words

You're not crazy, you’ve never been crazy. then why are you here, a crazy house. This is where actual crazy people live, not you! Your normal your normal your normal oops you accidentally pulled your hair out again.

   “[last name]!” You hear the shrill voice of your nurse, as she rushes in. Ms Becky was a nice old lady, well nice enough. She had a short brown bob that was graying, and brown eyes covered by her big glasses. She wore the typical uniform containing a long tight skirt and a blouse. 

  “Now why would you do that, I thought you were getting better,” she scolded and she wrote something down, probably to your psychologist. You scowl, you don’t like him, even though everyone else does. There's just something off about him. Especially the way he looks at you, like a pervert. She finished writing the note and looked up at you.

   “Stay still, I’m gettin your breakfast,” she walks out, you hear her heels click on the floor till you can’t. You smile finally, some peace. You go to your bed, and as you were about to pull out your secret diary you hear the door open. It was probably Ms Becky with your food. You look at your pillow like you weren’t about to pull your most prized possession. 

   “[name]!” You hear the cheerful voice of your psychologist speak out. Your mood immediately worsens. It’s Dr. Haynes your number one opp (see you know slang how can you be crazy?) dr Haynes was A darker man with shorter brown hair. He has foresty green eyes and he always wore a brown suit. he’s done everything to worsen your stay. First he took your phone and then made it so you can’t be around anyone else. Like what kind of person does that? 

  “What are you doing?” He said and walked to you, stopping when he saw your hair on the floor. He frowned.

  “[name],” he sounded disappointed. You glare at your pillow, you don’t need his pity. 

   “Do you want to talk about it,” he asks. You lose it the way his voice sounded so smooth and pitiful. It makes you seethe,  I mean how dare he? Treating you like a child grr. He walks up and pats your back and honestly it’s the last straw. You turn around as fast as you can and try to punch him keyword try. You try to punch, slap and bite, you try to do anything to him but it doesn’t work. He grabs your hands and holds them above your head. You can still kick so you do that, kicking him if he ever tries to get close. But unfortunately it doesn’t work you don’t know how but he’s pinned you to the bed. You cringe, him this close is gross.

   “Ah! Dr Haynes I was looking for you, oh what happened?” Ms Becky asked worriedly. 

  “It’s nothing, this little thing just decided to attack me,” he smiled looking at you.          “Can you get the sedative so they can get their nap time?” Little thing? Little thing?!! You're not little, you're big and strong! This angers you more as you go back to trying to fight. You were about to try to kick him again even if he’s holding your leg down but stopped. wait nap time oh no that could only mean one thing being sedated! You hate being sedated, it leaves you powerless, weak and unable to stop him if he tries anything, and you're pretty sure he will try something. You struggle to get out of his hold now you don’t want to sleep, you don’t want to be here. 

   “Stop! let me go!” you yelp, as you start to wiggle out of his grasp. He may be stronger than you but you were smaller and you were going to use that to your advantage. So you do just that, you escape from under him, well your top half, you manage to get your arms free in the struggle and you start to push him off you. You try and free your legs but it doesn’t work so you resort to pulling his hair to hopefully get a reaction, but he’s been oddly quiet, and unmoving. He lets go, and you scurry over to the other side of the small room. You pant your arms hurt now from how hard he was holding on to them. Dr Haynes was looking forward. You couldn’t see his face but you were sure he was fuming. But that didn’t bother you. All you know is you won, you won against this strong doctor, I mean aren’t doctors nerds, why is he strong? And as you relish in your victory Ms Becky comes in concerned, I mean who can blame her? Imagine coming in a room to see your boss roughed up with some of his hair missing knowing he was trying to subdue a patient. You know how this looks, it paints you as a villain and him as the victim, but it was honestly the other way around! You were just protecting yourself! Honest! 

   “Oh my goodness Dr Haynes are you ok?” She asked disturbed. He looked up at her with claw marks you don’t remember putting on his face, he was bleeding. It was disgusting, but even more disgusting knowing the fact that people would see that and think, ‘[name] did that they’re a monster!’ So you do the only thing you can think of to run, your adrenaline is still high so you run, you run and hide in the closet. The closet is dark but that doesn’t bother you. you're used to the dark, you like the dark. The dark helps you think. Think about your ruined life stuck in this god awful place. It helps you think about Dr Haynes.

   Dr Haynes was your doctor the day you stepped foot in this hell. You remember the receptionist that signed you in saying ‘oh! You have Dr Haynes your luck! He’s a sweetheart’ and she couldn’t be farther from the truth. He was wicked the moment you first met. You remember walking into the room and seeing him at this chair smiling expectantly like he’d known you would listen to him. The way he looked at you like he knew everything about you. The way he looked at your face still red from crying. He patted the chair next to him.

   “Welcome [name],” he had said smiling. “I assume you don’t know why you're here?” His grin widened. You glare

    “Of course I don’t! I’m not crazy!” you yell and grab his shoulders, shaking them a little. You’d assume he would realize you are not crazy and let you out but no. for someone who practically lives with crazy people he doesn’t realize. He even laughed when you told him, laughed! He's probably the crazy one if anything. 

   “They all say that,” his creepy grin continues to grow. All you want to do is rip his eyes out for looking at you like that, maybe claw off his regretful pretty face. But he’s beneath you, now all you have to do is be as quiet as a mouse in hopes he won’t find you.

    You can hear the sound of the speaker ring “we have a patient lose, repeat we have a patient lose. Be careful they are dangerous be careful they are dangerous. If you see a patient running around please contact dr Haynes. Thank you!” You dangerous? Maybe you were. The feeling of being feared was great. You liked the way Ms Becky looked at you, you loved the sight of Dr Haynes bloody maybe you were crazy. No you can’t feel that way, you just can’t. If you think like that then that would mean he’s right. You hate proving people right. Anyways you stay in the closet as quiet as possible. you hear multiple footsteps and voices talk, they don’t know you’re here so they talk about the latest drama. Like apparently the new nurse slept with her patient. And they talk about how Much they like Dr. Haynes ' new haircut. You never notice these things solely because you would rather put a gun to your head then stare at him more than what’s necessary. 

    The day was passing by fast, you're surprised you haven’t been found like really surprised. But you were in the janitors closet which means soon you would be found, but you have a plan! As soon as the janitor opens the door you will rush out and towards the front door only because it’s closest. You have no concept of time but you’ve heard a lot less talking you knew it was getting later. You were back to spacing out until you heard the door rattle you perk up and lift your head from your knees and bump your head on a shelf you swear was a few inches taller. You mumble out a quiet curse and the rattling stops. Fuck did he hear you, was he going to call dr Haynes you bite your lip but after an antagonizing moment he goes back to opening the door. And quickly after the door finally opens and you bolt. You know these halls like the back of your hand thanks to your countless escape attempts.

    You push past the janitor. You were surprisingly strong in that moment but you assume it was just the adrenaline. The janitor was shocked he tried to run after you but was slow. It was working though there was basically no one to get in your way, no one. You rush past the patient rooms past the offices and you pass the receptionist desk. You see her face twist to one of horror. you turn your head to her and smirk. you are finally free, you can’t wait to explore the world again, you can’t wait to get a job, pay bills, (this is probably the only time someone was excited to pay bills) and live for yourself. Make your own decisions about your life and for god's sake you're never going to listen to another man again. You turn your head back to the front and see Dr Haynes standing at the door angrily. Now it’s your turn for your face to twist into horror. Why is he here? You try to stop to turn around but the socks you wore stopped friction from even getting a word in. So you tumble into his arm and with that your freedom tumbles too. 

   “Are you done with your little tantrum,” he mocks. You feel your eyes tear up, you were going to cry god damn it you were going to cry in front of your worst enemy. The tears start to fall out of your eyes. To save yourself from some embarrassment you try and cover your eyes. Dr Haynes seemed to take notice of your crying because he gave you a hug, And you hugged him back. You hug your worst enemy and cry your frustrations out, all of it. Your frustration about him, your life, your family for signing you up to this place. You just ugly cry on this man’s white dress shirt. 

   “Shhh it’s ok [name] shh,” he southes . “Shh, let's get you to sleep,” he Pets your head. And for the first time in your life you listen to him, maybe because you were cramped in a room unable to sleep, or the fact you didn’t sleep last night out of fear of him walking in and seeing you in such a vulnerable position, but you sleep. You sleep all of your problems away. But you know when you wake up you have to face them just not right now.

-

You woke up feeling blissful, but for some reason you're still tired you don’t know why. You rub your eyes and yawn. Your eyes are still red from crying and your head hurts. You couldn’t ask for pills to make it better dang you Dr Haynes so you just have to sit in pain. Well it doesn’t have to be boring you concluded, and how do you cure boredom in a hell like this? Write your diary! You push your sleepiness and your rouring headache away and dig under your pillow for it. Odd it’s not there, you furrow your eyebrows. there is no reason it shouldn’t be there, wait , maybe in your sleep you pushed it off the bed. You look at the floor, nothing you check under your bed, still nothing. You were getting freaked out now. Where the fuck is your diary. You pull at your hair you don’t care if you get in trouble this is your only bit of privacy left and it’s gone you chew on your lip.

   “[last name] stop! Do you want me to get Dr Haynes?” Ms Becky called out. Dr Haynes… he did this he took your diary when you where asleep that, that, that, that fucker. You start to kick your feet on the floor, then you start to kick your feet on the wall. This shocked Ms Becky and she rushed in trying to help you in any way she could. This angered you, you don’t know why you're blaming her but she had to sit and watch him take it. You glare and push Ms Becky and she toppled over. You hear her yell out in pain, but this doesn’t stop you. You run out of the room and towards Dr Haynes office to smack some sense into him. 

  You reach his room and it is cracked open. You peek inside to see him typing on his computer. It was now or never, you rushed into the room and Dr Haynes looked up.

   “Oh [name] what a pleasant surprise,” He smiled. This erked you do no end. He was trying to ack all innocent like he didn’t take something so precious from you.

   “ I know you took it,” you say glaring.

   “Took what?” He said.

   “ my diary,” you moved closer.

   “Oh! This old thing,” he pulled my diary out form this desk drawer. 

   “Yes that!” You yell out and rush towards it. Dr Haynes stands up moving the journal out of your reach. 

  “ give it back,” you demand. You see his smirk increase.

  “ I read it, you seem to really hate this place, and me,” he said.

  “Of course I hate this place! I’ve been locked in here for years and everyone thinks I’m crazy. But I’m not, I've never been crazy, I never will be crazy, I’m normal, I’m normal, I’m normal,” you rant. 

  “Wrong,” he stated.

  “ what?” 

  “ I know your not crazy,” he smiled.

  “What,” this time the what was more aggressive and assertive. 

  “I’ve known for years you’re not crazy, I mean who put you in this place?” He said 

  “My parents,” you said weakly. Who did put you here? You always assumed it was your parents since they never visited But now you are not sure. Dr Haynes smiled. 

  “You bastard, what did you do?” you try to claw at his face.

   “ sit down and I will tell you.” You glare but sit slowly.

   “Good,” he smiled. All you want to do is rip his eyes out. 

   “So one day I’m out getting groceries and I see this beautiful person lost, they’re looking around for the evils of this world. So of course I have to help them, and now you’re here.” 

   “So you saw me and decided to kidnap me?” You yell and stand up. 

   “Didn’t kidnap you,” he stated. Just then Ms Becky ran in the room rambling.

   “Dr Haynes, they’re crazy, crazy I tell you! It was like a demon came over them; they were kicking and punching things! They pushed me.” It didn’t Take a genius to tell Ms Becky was talking about me. “You were right about them, they do belong in solitary.” What solitary? You can’t go there, you'll be completely isolated! You looked at Dr Haynes, why would he want to put you there? Ms Becky looked at you mad but ignored you nonetheless. 

  “Do you have the papers that say there’s a threat?” Dr Haynes says.

   “No not yet but I’ll get on it,” Ms Becky replied. As soon as she left you look at Dr Haynes.

   “ why would you want me to be in solitary?” You ask quietly. 

   “To have you all to myself of course,” he smiled. “Besides you are becoming a liability to the hospital, we really need to stop you before you actually hurt somebody.” Were you becoming a threat? Were you becoming a liability? Were you crazy?

[f-imaginings]

how goes the next chapter of KMKY? i am super keen for more, but obvs take your time!

hi bud! I am 43 pages into the next chapter and it's going well! Here is a tiny sneak peak of the D&D scene!

Having set up a rudimentary game with the graph paper lying around in the lab, Stanford was having an excellent time.

Dipper had brought the board game downstairs, with the rule book, and several key decision cards scattered around the gridded board on the dirt floor of the lab. Having just completed their character sheets, the adventure was about to begin.

“Okay, so my character is a human wizard slash artificer - battlesmith and order of scribes respectively - with an archivist background and I’ve juuust finished my ability scores.” Dipper scribbled on his character sheet, before throwing the sheet down between them. “Boosh!”

“Is that what the kids are saying these days? Boosh?” Ford queried idly, picking up Dipper’s character sheet to read through it.

“Oh, uh, Wendy – I mean, someone really cool said it once and I guess I just kind of picked it up. It’s not like everyone’s saying it.” Dipper rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, trying to play it off.

“It was hard enough keeping track of the popular slang back in the 80s.” Ford rubbed his chin, impressed by Dipper’s clever allocation of his ability points. “I guess a lot can change in 30 years. I like that you chose artificer for your class. My old friend Fiddleford used to choose artificer too, but he was always more of an alchemist than a battlesmith.”

“Huh. I guess that makes sense.” Dipper frowned, looking down at his notepad. “You two were really close then.”

“As thick as thieves.” Ford confirmed with a nod, filling out his own character sheet. “Before everything with the portal came to a head of course. And – there, that’s my character sheet done.”

Reaching over to read through it, all thoughts of McGucket set aside in favour of the game, Dipper blinked at Ford’s character sheet, surprised.

“Warlock/Fighter multiclass? Really?” He looked between Ford’s ready grin, and the character sheet, squinting at the details. “Shouldn’t your charisma stats be higher than intelligence if you’re playing a warlock. Charisma is the spell modifier.”

“I’ve never really understood why it’s not an intelligence class myself, but given the scope for multi-classing, I can leverage both classes and become an eldritch knight. There’s not a lot a good eldritch blast can’t take care of, in my experience. It’s just like a laser gun!”

“Fair enough.” Dipper shrugged, moving his character piece around on the board. “Great Uncle Ford, how did you get other people to play this game with you? I keep thinking Mabel would love to play this, but I just can’t convince her. I get the feeling she would be a bard, if she gave it a shot. And Wendy could totally be a Ranger!”

“Stanley mentioned Mabel is musically inclined.” Ford rubbed his chin, considering his past attempts to get others to play with him. Stanley never did, choosing instead to mock him, and the only other person he successfully coerced to play was Bill, but he never truly committed to the experience. “You could always try bribery, that sometimes works.”

“And bribe her with what?” Dipper shook his head, before sighing. “Never mind. At least I get to play with you.”

“Are you ready?” Ford questioned, bringing Dipper’s focus back to the board, picking up the 38-sided die and rolling it between his knuckles.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Dipper said gamely, crossing his legs more comfortably beneath him.

“Alright.” Ford waved his hand across the board, sitting behind the cardboard cut out of Probabilitor the Annoying, setting the scene. “The reigning monarch of the land of Mathematica has put out a call for mercenaries across the land to take up a quest to rescue his daughter, Princess Unattainabelle from the devious clutches of the King’s arch enemy, Probabilitor the Annoying, the worst wizard in all of the land. Your task, should you prove worthy, is to gather your party and venture forth into the Algebraic Swamplands, to Probabilitor’s castle deep within his dominion, and brave his radius of evil to find the Princess and rescue her from his sweaty clutches. Your quest’s probability of success is –“

Ford paused to roll the 38 sided die, the die landing on 21.

“Not bad. Could definitely be worse.” Dipper remarked.

“You’re telling me. Once Fiddleford rolled a two.” Ford barked a laugh, remembering the campaign fondly.

“Now that’s playing on hard mode.” Dipper grinned. “21 should be a walk in the park, comparatively.”

“I like those odds.” Ford shared a grin with his great nephew, delighted at their shared conspiratorial joy with the game. “So, you’re in the tavern on the edge of the Swamplands, your character has accepted the quest. What do you do now?”

[cybercasket]

Sally Williams headcanons

(CW for discussion of coping with death + trauma. I go in-depth into Sally's mentality towards what happened, but I don't talk about the trauma itself.)

To start things off, this is based off of Sally's official character sheets (2017/most recent sheet) (2013) and what I remember from the story more than they are the fandom's perception of her. These headcanons might make more sense if you check those out first!

🧸 According to her creator La-Mishi-Mish, her body's age can change. She's chronologically in her 60s, mentally + spiritually 12 (her age at death), and typically appears 8. She used to have the ability to turn any age she wanted, but it got retconned because La-Mishi-Mish kept getting called out for being irresponsible and creepy with it.

So, I think that Sally's form can shift ages to some extent, though it's mostly subconscious and based on her state of mind. It's a little bit like the early Steven Universe episode "So Many Birthdays" except a bit more stable.

🎀 Sally is actually deathly afraid of becoming older, and does everything she can to maintain the persona of an innocent 8 year old girl.

To her, 8 was one of the last few good years of her short life--afterwards is when everything became bad and wrong, and she was subject to so much judgement, criticism, responsibility, and predatory behavior from the people around her that she couldn't handle at the time.

She's afraid that being much older than 8 will make her a target.

🎠 Sally romanticizes being younger a lot, though she also likes the way it makes other people perceive her. By behaving more incompetent, temperamental, and oblivious than she really is, she can make people believe that she's cute, innocent, and incapable of wrong. She has a strong internalized belief that being older is dangerous, while being younger is safe.

🧸 She age regresses intentionally (from 12 to 8) by heavily focusing on her more childish interests (eg. Dolls, girl toys, and princesses) and by pushing away/repressing parts of her that she seems too mature or grown-up (eg. Certain words, ways of speaking, and knowledge/awareness she has).

🎀 According to her creator, Sally spends a lot of time in the woods near her house playing with kids at the local playground.

I think she is absolutely DEDICATED to the act of being a completely normal 8 year old girl. She'll bandage the bleeding from her head, watch all their shows, learn all their games and slang, and even collect the toys they like so she can fit in and play with them.

🎠 Lately though, she's been having to tell kids that her parents don't let her use her iPad much. There's always a bit of an adjustment period for her between each new generation of kids, but she really struggles to wrap her head around Gen Alpha's modern technology.

🧸 Speaking of technology... She's not good at it. For a long time she didn't really bother to learn since stuff like computers and phones were associated with older people, and her not knowing how to use them fed into an image of her being cute and childlike. However, it's genuinely bewildering and confusing to her.

🎀 Do NOT play Roblox with her, it will take 20 minutes for her to join your game and she won't know the first thing about how to play it 😭😭😭. Though with enough patience, you could probably get her hooked on something like Adopt Me.

She's not good at other games either, though she usually doesn't try in competitive video games (eg. Mario Kart) on purpose because she doesn't really understand them, and likes seeing how happy the people she's playing with get when they win :-).

🎠 She has a ton of excuses memorized for why her parents are never there with her at the playground, and why the parents of other kids can't meet her parents.

Sometimes it doesn't work out so well, and she has to spend a few hours trying to find a way to wiggle out of a missing person's report... She usually hangs out farther away from where the adults are to avoid ending up in awkward situations like that.

🧸 Over time, her perception of her years from 0-8 and her years from 9-12 became really polarized--in her mind, her younger years were all really good, happy, and romanticized, and her older years were completely terrible and miserable.

Like, in her head 1st and 2nd grade were happy and peaceful, meanwhile 4th and 5th grade were completely miserable and that's when her life became terrible. Realistically there was good and bad in both, but she isn't able to see it that way.

🎀 Everything past 9 for her is a blur until she has to connect with people closer to her death age, which then makes her shift her physical appearance back to where it'd normally sit. Her older years become a little bit easier to process in that state.

She tries to act a bit more like a "big kid" to fit in, but she's extremely out of practice since she's almost always acting 8, so she ends up coming off a bit immature.

🎠 She misremembers herself dying younger often.

🧸 She doesn't like throwing temper-tantrums (especially around strangers) because it's difficult to tell how people will react to them, however she plans them out strategically and WILL have them if it means she gets what she wants. She represses a lot of her emotions and releases them during these (Though she does have plenty of genuine breakdowns as well, since she's mentally 12 and has been suffering from PTSD and depression for the past 50 or so years.)

🎀 Maintaining her appearance as a young girl takes stamina/energy, though being 12 takes the least because it's more authentic to her.

🎠 According to Sally's creator, she also haunts her childhood home. I think her house is her safe space where she can be herself without worrying about how she's perceived by others.

It's really messy (she's a bit of a hoarder and only cleans when the mess becomes inconvenient to her,) and she has a huge collection of toys and books.

🧸 Her toy collection spans multiple decades, and she even still has some toys from back when she was alive deep in her collection somewhere in terrible condition. She doesn't usually have whole sets, just a few pieces here and there she decided to keep from the people she plays with (whether they left them at the playground or she decides to pocket something small she likes but the other kid doesn't seem to care about while they're playing) or from CVS or something.

🎀 Sally really likes reading, but she's a little self-conscious about it because she likes to read books that are far above the reading level and outside of the interests of the average 8 year old, like Pride and Prejudice. She also likes watching old movies from the 50s, 60s, and 70s, and has a secret obsession with Marilyn Monroe.

She also likes reading romance, but sex scenes trigger the hell out of her so when she comes across one, she gets out a giant black crayon (because black covers the words the best,) and just starts madly scribbling over it.

🎠 Sally likes horror a little bit too, because darker stories and themes often reflect how miserable she feels deep down. However, since she's 12 and doesn't have a large capacity for tolerating the heavier stuff, she usually keeps it light.

Most of it isn't worth much, but there's probably a couple things that are like $200 or something and she has no idea because she barely uses the internet.

🧸 When she runs out of stamina or gets too triggered, her body morphs into a very pale, bony, frail old woman with sunken cheeks. It's terrifying for both her and whoever witnesses it.

🎀 She doesn't kill, but I feel like it's less of a morality thing and more because she's too squeamish and also terrified of the consequences of getting aggressive/violent with someone who ends up attacking her back. Rapists in particular make her angry enough to almost want to kill.

🎠 She's emotionally attached to and chases Ben, but he doesn't reciprocate it. They're both technically the same age (both being dead at 12), but while Sally embraces her childishness and immaturity almost to a fault, Ben is deeply ashamed of and uncomfortable with his which leads to him feeling easily annoyed or disgusted by Sally. Basically, Ben is too much of an "Ew, that's for babies" type of kid to enjoy playing with Sally 😭😭.

[radioisntdead]

I'd love to see a funny drabble or headcanons of teaching some of the older (date of existence old) characters modern slang.

Angel: Rizz~

Alastor: No.

Rosie: ah don't worry about it alastor, the boys too crude to have rizz, hes def. Delulu.

Alastor: NoOoooo.

Good evening my dear! I couldn't figure out if you meant hazbin characters like Rosie explain slang to Alastor or the reader doing that so I assume it's the latter so it's the reader teaching everyone slang.

It escalated slightly with the reader being invested in online drama, I was influenced by Nicole Rafiee's chronically online girl explains series

Chronically Reader teaching people slang and driving old people insane headcanons

Warnings: none aside but I think I lost braincells because I read articles on recent slang meanings, I felt like a 50 year old woman trying to figure out what slang her child is saying, was this how my mom felt when I was saying YEET for literally everything?? Also how many people are saying skibidi, gyatt etc etc for them to be considered slang??? IS THIS AGING???

Well, I'll be blunt, being chronically online is what probably got you sent to hell in the first place.

You got to hell and just decided to be a menace, which I respect, for better or for worse, in this case for worse.

When Alastor was alive his slang was Bee's knees, corn shredder, the Cats pajamas, etc etc and then you waltz in the hotel with all your "Rizz" and "It's giving Red-40 dye." It was like you were determined to drive him insane!!

Because you were!

He avoids you like the plague, and you hunt him down like the deer he is, like you stand outside his room with a board of modern slang + online drama because why not.

You recruit Rosie to help you and she's just all for it, you and her team up, Alastor was long overdo for his slang education anyways, when was the last time she told him what they meant? 2005? 2006? 2010?

I'm pretty sure everyone in this fandom agrees that Rosie keeps up to date with all the slang, I think she draws the line at whatever the fuck gyatt means.

I have personal beef with that word get it away from me.

Alastor doesn't like the majority of this "newfound slang" but he'll use it to troll people, like Vox.

He'll be beefing with him and just go "You have no Rizz." or "The rizzless TV box is Delulu" or something and Vox just blue screens.

Velvette definitely teaches him and pimp grimace the newest slang.

You get along well with her, y'all talk shit about people you don't know and spill the tea on the people you know, the DIRT you have on the other two Vees, and the mild dust specks she has on the hotel crew, like that acting exercise with Angel and Sir Pentious or the time one of the egg Bois got BOILED.

Angel dust knows the top coat of recent slang like Delulu or it's giving, the more elegant ??? side.

You can ramble to him about whatever influencer drama you know of, he's fully invested because so and so did WHAT and soso jiwa DID HUH?

Husk on the other hand...

There is not enough Alcohol in the hotel for this, you stroll up to the bar with a whole whiteboard of modern slang + meanings AND internet drama, he can't leave the bar and so he's just stuck listening to you and praying that the alcohol makes him forget.

It does NOT.

Do people still use bussin'?

He doesn't like that one.

You could teach modern slang to Lucifer, he WILL not use it correctly.

Niffty already knows all the fanfiction slang, from Omega-verse, to everything else, like what the fruits mean [Note I was looking up fanfiction terms to refresh my memory and good grace the FLASHBACKS to my Wattpad days. I DODGED SO MANY BULLETS.]

Now to the part I've been looking forward too....

SUSAN.

She doesn't like modern slang, she doesn't know WHAT your talking about, she is low-key interested in the influencer drama you talk about but everything else? she's going "Young people these days!" "The disrespect! What even is a Rizz? That's not a word!"

Don't you dare explain to her what a Skibidi toilet is, that will kill her.

She likes you though, congratulations you're used as the Susan distraction whenever she's nearby.

This time NOT TO JOJO SIWA'S KARMA MUSIC VIDEO

Good evening folks! I've found that chugging an energy drink has the same effects of me being very sleep deprived but more hyper, this was longer bUT it didn't save even though I HIT SAVE DRAFT.

Anywho I hope you enjoyed, thank you for tuning in, Tomorrow is angst day and I WROTE. Then Thursday is a more wholesome fic where as per usual Valentino dies.

Psst, you should join our discord!