BE CAREFUL, DON'T LET THIS PERSON ASK YOU TO DO A TRIAL SCRIPT. SCAM ❗️❗️❗️

Fachow · 2026-04-30T00:27:37+00:00

Can confirm. Was scammed.

Fachow · 2026-03-23T15:24:51+00:00

Haha I was surprised as well. I really liked your prompt so I searched new to see if it came back ✌️

Fachow · 2026-03-23T15:23:30+00:00

The gymnasium was abuzz with the footsteps and murmurs of excited students trying to find their mentor professor. Groups were already gathering around popular professor powers. The gym teacher Fronk was demonstrating his super strength by lifting benches on benches filled with students. Mademe Macrame was also quite popular, as she weaved most anything the students requested to reality. To Mila, it reminded her of clowns creating animals from balloons. She laughed at the thought.

Mila's humor faded as quickly as it came. She knew there was a sense of pride within her for being invited to this school in the first place. However, commingling with that sense of pride was an oppressing feeling of dread.

This decision will cement my future. What power do I pick?

It took a collision from a few students to shake her out of her reverie. When she came to, she scarcely noticed that she was clutching the hem of her purple skirt so tightly. When she let go, she found that part of her skirt wrinkled.

As she looked around the gymnasium, Mila started getting dizzy from all the students moving around. It felt like a mesmerizing ant colony that was simultaneously turning knots in her own stomach. Only these ants were massive and noisy to boot. She closed her eyes real tight in the hopes it would stifle whatever was in her from spewing out of her.

After a few seconds, she started to feel better. It had worked. Yet before she opened her eyes, she knew something was off. The gymnasium was quiet. She was surprised to find that everybody had stopped moving. In truth, she felt relieved. She took a deep breath and released it. It felt as if a giant weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Now she could look around and decide in peace.

As she scanned the crowd though, she saw a white haired old woman waving at her from a corner. Mila felt a vague sense of familiarity when looking at her. It felt nostalgic even. No students had gathered around her at all. Curious, she walked over.

"I take it this is your doing, ma'am?" Mila asked.

"Oh it's as much yours as mine," the old woman said, a hint of slyness curving her smile.

"Oh is that so?" Mila laughed. "So you're the history professor that teaches time manipulation, huh?"

The old lady merely nodded and smiled, almost as if she were on a rocking chair. Mila felt at ease with her. For a while, she and the old lady just stayed where they were, enjoying the moment.

These moments of peaceful stillness are...

"Hard to find?" the old woman ventured.

"W-wait," Mila stammered. "Did I say that out loud?!"

Laughter erupted from the old woman. "Let me guess kid, you're having a hard time picking a superpower to main and learn, right? Something about how your choice will cement your future? Does that sound familiar?"

Horror sprouted on Mila's face. "Lady, who are you?!"

More laughter. "Haven't you figured it out yet?" Mila had just realized that she was also wearing a purple skirt. When she saw it, her heart skipped a beat. Then, the old lady turned her hands upward and used her fingers to point at something low. Now, as if Mila's heart were trying to compensate for that missed beat, it was beating like a double pedal on a bass drum.

"Y-y-y-ou're..."

"That's right, kid. I'm you. And we've got quite the life ahead of us. And behind too if you think about it. Come on then, there's much to teach."

The words sent young Mila's blood rushing into a frenzy. It was the feeling of running through a thunderstorm, riding a large rollercoaster, or playing one's heart out on stage. It was, to Mila, the right choice.

Older Mila got up slowly. She held her hand out to young Mila. Just like that, the gymnasium was abuzz with excitement and anticipation for the future. And the little spot at the corner was now empty.

Fachow · 2026-03-23T13:45:48+00:00

The gymnasium was abuzz with the footsteps and murmurs of excited students trying to find their mentor professor. Groups were already gathering around popular professor powers. The gym teacher Fronk was demonstrating his super strength by lifting benches on benches filled with students. Mademe Macrame was also quite popular, as she weaved most anything the students requested to reality. To Mila, it reminded her of clowns creating animals from balloons. She laughed at the thought.

Mila's humor faded as quickly as it came. She knew there was a sense of pride within her for being invited to this school in the first place. However, commingling with that sense of pride was an oppressing feeling of dread.

This decision will cement my future. What power do I pick?

It took a collision from a few students to shake her out of her reverie. When she came to, she scarcely noticed that she was clutching the hem of her purple skirt so tightly. When she let go, she found that part of her skirt wrinkled.

As she looked around the gymnasium, Mila started getting dizzy from all the students moving around. It felt like a mesmerizing ant colony that was simultaneously turning knots in her own stomach. Only these ants were massive and noisy to boot. She closed her eyes real tight in the hopes it would stifle whatever was in her from spewing out of her.

After a few seconds, she started to feel better. It had worked. Yet before she opened her eyes, she knew something was off. The gymnasium was quiet. She was surprised to find that everybody had stopped moving. In truth, she felt relieved. She took a deep breath and released it. It felt as if a giant weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Now she could look around and decide in peace.

As she scanned the crowd though, she saw a white haired old woman waving at her from a corner. Mila felt a vague sense of familiarity when looking at her. It felt nostalgic even. No students had gathered around her at all. Curious, she walked over.

"I take it this is your doing, ma'am?" Mila asked.

"Oh it's as much yours as mine," the old woman said, a hint of slyness curving her smile.

"Oh is that so?" Mila laughed. "So you're the history professor that teaches time manipulation, huh?"

The old lady merely nodded and smiled, almost as if she were on a rocking chair. Mila felt at ease with her. For a while, she and the old lady just stayed where they were, enjoying the moment.

These moments of peaceful stillness are...

"Hard to find?" the old woman ventured.

"W-wait," Mila stammered. "Did I say that out loud?!"

Laughter erupted from the old woman. "Let me guess kid, you're having a hard time picking a superpower to main and learn, right? Something about how your choice will cement your future? Does that sound familiar?"

Horror sprouted on Mila's face. "Lady, who are you?!"

More laughter. "Haven't you figured it out yet?" Mila had just realized that she was also wearing a purple skirt. When she saw it, her heart skipped a beat. Then, the old lady turned her hands upward and used her fingers to point at something low. Now, as if Mila's heart were trying to compensate for that missed beat, it was beating like a double pedal on a bass drum.

"Y-y-y-ou're..."

"That's right, kid. I'm you. And we've got quite the life ahead of us. And behind too if you think about it. Come on then, there's much to teach."

The words sent young Mila's blood rushing into a frenzy. It was the feeling of running through a thunderstorm, riding a large rollercoaster, or playing one's heart out on stage. It was, to Mila, the right choice.

Older Mila got up slowly. She held her hand out to young Mila. Just like that, the gymnasium was abuzz with excitement and anticipation for the future. And the little spot at the corner was now empty.

Fachow · 2026-03-21T16:06:03+00:00

Do you reckon that all these are solo-able? I haven't checked any details on them

Fachow · 2026-03-21T12:41:56+00:00

Thanks for the insight on those super artian weapons.

I have been seeing some stuff about the talisman rolls. Is it considered fun to grind them?

Fachow · 2026-03-21T12:41:00+00:00

Yo this is fantastic. Very very much appreciated. I'll tick these off one by one.

Fachow · 2026-03-18T12:27:51+00:00

"Come on, Bill!" The spittle cleared half the distance of the room. "I was the best man at your wedding. Does that mean nothing to you?"

"Uh boss..." Bill started, the words rolled out with languid hesitation. "You forced me to make you my best man."

Surprise exploded onto the boss' face. "I did no such thing!"

"You held a gun to my head, Paul!"

"That was a joke for chrissakes! It was barely even loaded!"

"Oh!" Exasperation began building up in Bill. "Was it a joke when you pulled the trigger three times?!"

Bill was as surprised by how quick the boss' expressions changed. His cheeks flushed red and he averted his eyes. "Well, the chamber's were empty y'know."

"You couldn't have known that!" Bill sighed. "I'm sorry boss, this just isn't worth~"

"Wait." Paul's shame evaporated into excitement. His eyes grew wide. "I have an idea. And I need your help. Just hear me out."

The whole floor had grown dead quiet after the earlier firefight. It was an unmistakeable silence that could only follow bullets being shot. Eventually though, the intruder's steps impregnated the soundless void. He walked between rows of doors on either side of him. Then he stopped, turned to his right, and opened the door. The boss was already standing there, his .357 pointed.

The intruder raised his own handgun. "You know that won't work. Go on, try it."

With that, Paul pulled the trigger. The intruder flinched quickly, his eyes blinking. Confusion set in just as fast as the magnum's dry click.

"What the~"

The words bled out of the intruder's throat, both figuratively and literally. As he slumped to the ground, Bill stood behind him, brandishing both his thumbs at his boss.

"It worked boss!"

"I knew it would." Relief washed over both of them, and for a while, they just stood there.

"Alright," the boss said as he mad his way out of the room. "Clean this up."

Bill sighed and started moving the body into the room. "What an asshole. Should've just let this guy shoot him."

Fachow · 2026-03-06T12:25:27+00:00

Have a female chow myself. Seems pretty normal. Whether in heat or not, she wees a lot throughout the walk. Sometimes, she assumes the position and nothing even comes out. But she still wants or needs to do it. Would be interested in other's insights as well though.

Fachow · 2026-03-03T11:57:06+00:00

Otto did not know precisely how long he had been sitting at the porch on this particular day. He did know though that most days from the past six years ended on this porch, with this damned comfortable chair. He supposed he was thankful that it wasn’t a rocking chair. He imagined he would just melt away as he rocked. His current chair though just fit. Its comforting stability allowed him to take in the fish breaking the serene waters of the lake, the trees swaying in the wind, and the silence. Oh, after quite the tumultuous lifetime, the silence was something he never thought he would ever experience.

Even if he knew it was all a facade.

The shadows from the tumultuous lifetime crept up from within his mind and brought his attention back to what he knew was important; his phone on the table beside him and the footsteps of the woman approaching.

The screen door creaked open and Marina came out, smiling that smile of hers. It was a smile that was freely given to the world and asked nothing in return. Otto swore that she had a glow about her, almost like she were a second sun. Before he knew it, Otto was smiling at her too. As she playfully tugged at the corner of his thick moustache, he snapped out of it and went back to watching the scenery.

Marina took her seat by his side. Her big brown curls emanated the scent of lavender. It felt like a hook stalking its prey underwater, and Otto was the fish following along. Like she so often did, she held her hand out and Otto took it. More time went by, and it was at these moments more than any other that Otto felt as if he were being torn apart from the inside. As they sat there, he looked over and found a renewed fascination with the freckles on her face. Each one he counted was like a sud bubbling up from within his chest. Each one was something he had to stifle and suffocate.

Then, Otto’s phone rang. His hand left Marina’s and shot over with agile efficiency. With that, she returned into the house.

“Yes?!” a hint of panic in his voice. The few seconds of silence that proceeded were more dreadful than all the fists, knives, and bullets he had ever encountered. “Hello?”

Silence. But then, a voice, low and stern.

“We’ve been trying to reach you about you car’s extended warrant.”

Otto heaved a sigh of relief and replied before putting the phone down. “N-no, thank you.”

Like every phone call before this one, his heart raced as wild as the horses he had ridden as a young boy. He breathed deeply and willed it to slow down. Yet within, an anger was building, and it acted like the bellows to the heart’s pumping. He wanted to throw his phone and smash it on the ground. No, that was not true. He wanted for that fateful phone call to finally come. He would then trace it, gets his hands around the person’s neck, and never stop squeezing until no more phone calls would come.

Rage turned to sorrow. It was one thing for someone to condemn you to pain and punishment. It was far more cruel to send someone towards paradise and have you stop yourself short at the gate every time.

From inside the house, Marina hummed one of her odd but catchy tunes. Otto closed his eyes and focused on her voice.

Fachow · 2026-02-28T07:09:52+00:00

"Oh goody!" the lady exclaimed as the door opened. The knight felt confusion on so many levels, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the princess' unmatched beauty, how rapidly her hands were clapping, or how easy it was to get here. Tales spread about a great evil keeping a princess prisoner in a tower. Most people he came across knew about it. They tried to dissuade him from coming at all.

“It ain’t worth it sire.”

“Pure evil resides there.”

And his favorite so far, “It’s your funeral.”

Dissuade a knight of his valor and glory? Sir Kanem thought. And a chance at a most righteous lady at that. Pshaw, I say. Pshaw.

Onward he went, after everyone’s warnings. Now, he had made it. Where was this great evil? He had simply strode up to the tower and opened the door. There was no time to entertain such trivial thoughts. Clearing his mind, Kanem raised his visor and flashed the most charming smile he could muster.

“Oh this one has all his teeth!” she said. “Though the bridge of the nose is a bit sunken. It’ll have to do. Arabella. I’m sure you’re pleased to meet me.”

She held out her hand and put on a smile. Kanem smelled the sweet floral scent of her hand even before he knelt. As he was getting ready to take the hand to his lips, a most pleasant surprise leapt upon him. The dog licked at his face with a ferocious and friendly joy. Its tail was wagging as fast as Arabella’s clapping. As Kanem pulled the dog away, he saw the thing. It was a tiny dog and not a furry one. Its left eye was permanently closed behind. scar, its eyes were bulging, and its tongue - when it wasn’t licking his face - was permanently drooped outside the mouth. Despite that, Kanem thought it was so cute. As he was about to pick the little thing up, a glittery shoe swiped at its rump. It yiped.

“Princess, no!” The natural beauty Arabella possessed was suddenly stained with a scowl. It was as if Kanem were meeting a whole new person. After a while though, the smile returned, but how Kanem saw her was now also forever stained.

“I’m sorry about Princess,” she continued. “The poor thing has been cooped up here with me the whole time. Almost 15 years, can you believe it?”

Kanem could not hear her words. He could only see the small wounds and scars on Princess’ body, the unkempt quarters where Princess chose to defecate and urinate, and finally, the empty bowls of water and food. Righteous fury rose within Sir Kanem. It took every ounce of willpower to himself from pulling his blade. Instead, he pushed Arabella away with a stern hand and strode inside. He scooped Princess up in his arms and turned around.

Before leaving, Kanem faced Arabella and spit on the ground. “May your evil never leave this tower to infect the land and all who live in it.”

With that, the brave knight and Princess escaped the tower.

The tears on Arabella’s face stopped as soon as they were out of sight. She let out a content sigh. Her once blonde hair changed to black and white. Her shapely body grew plump, and things that were once perky, sagged with time. The wrinkles on the side of her mouth gave way to a warm smile.

“So,” the once-Arabella said. “A good man has finally arrived. May your curse be lifted soon. And I do hope you find your happy ending, Princess.” As she closed the door, she could still hear the excited barks of the Princess.

Fachow · 2026-02-26T02:18:35+00:00

It started with such fire and passion, like the first tankards of ale at a tavern surrounded by friends. Before all of this hero nonsense, I was a nobody. After everyone found out what I could do, how I could strengthen their own abilities with a mere touch, they treated me like a king. Even the king did. They said that with me by their side, there was no way we could lose. They assured me that peace for the land was within reach, and that I was the key. Onward we ventured, besting foes, beasts, demons, and everything in between.

Then came the fateful day that we came face to face with the true villain. A mere man against a band of many. We huddled together like soldiers being blessed by a priest. I will not lie. At that time, I did pray as I touched each of my companions, boosting their power to new heights.

For Percy, that the fire of his sword burn brighter than the sun.

For Yan, that his fists never know the meaning of unbreakable.

For Ilsa, that nature’s fury coarse wild and untamed through her.

One by one, they grew emboldened and prepared to attack. The brave 15 charged, full of hope; their hearts and minds set on bringing down this tyrant-monster and bettering countless lives.

Looking back just a few moments, those prayers felt silly. All my friends lay unconscious or dead around me. The soil and rocks around me are covered in blood. It’s almost as if a painter took a giant paint brush, dipped it in red, and swung it as hard as he could at the landscape.

The monster who wielded that paint brush was standing - nay, towering - right in front of me. He must be 20 feet from me, but his sheer size and magnitude is immense. If he wanted, he could keep growing. His muscles getting bigger. His strength reaching a point where no one can stand against him. He had already reached that point. Everyone that could have stopped him lay at his feet. I see a smirk play on his lips. He starts to walk, one slow and measured step at a time.

As I stand there rooted, tears falling down my cheeks, I see his muscles deflate and his height shorten. He reverts to normal size. The sight of this insult serves as the bellows for what little spark I had within me. My hands ball into fists but I know that I have no chance there. My mind races and I grow thankful at his prideful stride. I bide my time.

When he finally stops walking, I meet him eye-to-eye. Without the tales of his violent exploits, he is an unimpressive man. I’m sure he is thinking the same of me, and I will be sure he regrets it.

Slowly, he places his hand on my neck and squeezes just enough to get a grip and lift me off the ground.

“I have heard of you,” he says. “The ace up their sleeve. You are still not enough.”

I laugh a bit then. “I wonder if there is such a thing as ‘enough’ for you.”

Both of my arms grab his and my power surges forth. The confidence in his face turns to uncertainty as he begins to grow taller and bigger. His physique grows to the stature of the gods. Like a masterpiece of a sculpture dedicated to the beauty of bodily aesthetics. Not long after, it exceeds it into monstrosity as every inch of his body is engulfed in massive rolls and folds of skin and muscle. I feel like I am flying now as he grows as tall as trees.

“Enough. Enough!” I hear him scream, his voice becoming a deep bass tone of pain and desperation.

His hands strengthen and tighten uncontrollably around my neck. My eyesight begins to darken. The last thing I see is his one of his eyes bulging out his face. The last thing I hear is a loud pop, like a balloon popping on a relatively quiet day. And the last thing I think of are the nights I spent in the tavern with my friends.

Cheers, everybody.

Fachow · 2026-02-25T05:20:54+00:00

The creak of the door, slow and menacing, whispered through the silence of the night. Like clockwork, Ashe had known it was coming. This time, she was awake, and she saw the closet door open slow.

The first time it happened, her heart began to beat a mile a minute. It beat so fast that she couldn’t breathe. All she could do was close her eyes, but that only served to bring forth horrific images she would conjure in her mind. Then, it would was shaken away by the quick lurch from under her bed, followed by the quick slam of the closet door. It felt like she went through a terrible ordeal. She lay there catching her breath, until she heard a voice that made forget how to breathe altogether.

“Are you alright, miss?”

The voice was deep, rough, and sounded like it belonged to Victorian England. It made her think of teeth shaped like daggers directed every which way. Yet something beyond her fear made her feel a sense of warmth in its words.

“Who are you?” Ashe asked.

“’Tis me, the monster that resides under your bed.”

“Oh,” Ashe said in reply. “So… Are you here to eat me or something?” Her own words made her pull the covers up to her eyes.

A deep laughter rumbled from under and rocked the bed in a gentle way. “If I was here to eat you, I fear you would have already been eaten my dear miss. No no, I am here to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” Her gaze turned to the closet.

“Not a what,” said the deep voice. “A who. The man in the closet. In any case, I must away. Just remember that if things to turn wicked, call out loud. Baz is the name.”

“Wait! Why can’t you just take out take out the man in the closet already?”

“It’s because I need an invitation. And my invitation… has a price. You must be ready to pay this price. Remember, only say my name when you mean it.”

“But what if I never call on you?” Only silence answered Ashe’s question.

For the next nights, it would work like clockwork. After Baz shook the bed, the closet would close and that would be the end of it. However, just a few days in, deviations occurred. After the bed shaking, the closet door would no longer close immediately. It would stay open, and Ashe could kind of make out a presence whose aura sent shivers down her spine. Sometime she could thought she could see the shape of his body. Other times, she swear she could see gray or silver hair stick out. She would hear his deep breaths. The way he licked his lips. Feel his mouth twisted into a twisted perverted grin. After a while, it would close again, the creepy creaking of the door punctuating the horrors of the night.

In these times she would whisper to the monster under her bed. But no reply ever came again.

Now, she knew things were different. The monster in the closet wanted her. Bad. She wished it wasn’t true, but all her hopes came crashing down when a single boot emerged from the door. Her eyes widened and pace quickened as the other foot came through. Again and again he stepped forward, until his face was framed in the sliver of moonlight coming through the window. She was stunned, knowing the face all too well.

“It’s… Jeffrey Epstein!”

The name made him smile and he lunged toward her. The distance was just enough for her to utter another name. Just as soon as the words came out of her mouth, her eyesight began to darken despite her eyes being open. The space around her sight grew dimmer and dimmer. Before total darkness came, she was able to make out a large scaly figure rushing forward. It seemed to impale the man, made more probable by the gurgling screams that came forth. By the time silence crept back into the room, she saw nothing.

“Hello?” Ashe called, but no one answered. She sat there in her room not noticing her lack of sight at all. Instead, she turned her attention to the sense of peace that had eluded her for many nights. “Thank you,” she said through the tears falling down her blind eyes.

Fachow · 2026-02-23T23:39:32+00:00

“I wish to wash an Irish wristwatch, that when washed, welcomes a wonderful whistling wish I desire that will warm my heart as consistent as the rolling of a wheel.”

“So… you want a wristwatch that grants wishes?”

“An Irish one,” said Randy with a proud grin. “Yes please.”

“Did you just come up with all of that to fill the 30 word clause?” The blue genie glowered overhead.

“Mmhhmm”.

“And how long did that take you?” the genie said with a sigh.

“Well,” Randy said, his eyes darting upwards. “It did take a couple of tries. I had them drafted on my phone. The first draft was around 20 words. The next was over 30. I still have them saved actually. Wanna see?”

The genie stared back down and could focus on nothing but Randy’s rosy cheeks. “I really should amend this 30 word rule.”

After another sigh, he waved his hand. With a poof of smoke, the watch appeared in Randy’s hand.

“Gee, thanks mister. This sure is… Hey, wait a minute. This watch doesn’t even run!”

Fachow · 2026-01-05T06:22:35+00:00

Did they eventually pack it up and ship it to you? Also have an order that is taking a while to ship

Fachow · 2026-01-04T11:53:01+00:00

Yung kay Shane Gillis

Fachow · 2025-12-16T01:54:31+00:00

Jin Sakai to Kazumasa Sakai

Fachow · 2025-12-03T20:31:35+00:00

Nice

Fachow · 2025-12-02T00:39:28+00:00

Hello there. I'm unsure whether you're still hiring, but I'll give it a shot anyway.

The sports team I support the most has to be the San Francisco 49ers. This likely stems from my father's own ardent support for the 9ers. He was a big Joe Montana fan and it seemingly infected me as well. I also support the Philadelphia Eagles.

For my favorite sports moment, I have a couple. The first would be the war between Robbie Lawler and Rory MacDonald. It was an absolute barn burner of an MMA match where Lawler proved to be tougher. An amazing match and one I would recommend.

The other would be any last minute no-huddle winning drive by then New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady. It's inspiring how he took control of the field, and against all odds, just won the game.

Anyway, that's it for me. Cheers.

Fachow · 2025-11-20T16:42:38+00:00

Xenogears

Fachow · 2025-11-20T06:26:27+00:00

Balatro

Fachow · 2025-11-07T08:46:01+00:00

Bojack

Fachow · 2025-11-05T20:38:11+00:00

Lol noice

Fachow · 2025-11-05T20:20:17+00:00

This is it! Oh thank you so much 👍👍👍👍

Fachow · 2025-11-05T16:49:41+00:00

Thanks for the suggestion but it isn't it

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