#( would u still be my besties )

[takethelx3]

when ur platonic bro is just helping u stretch while u platonically yap about ur MAGNUM DO-- detective skills.

[viveela]

If you draw dip i woul be sooooooo happy

So I like to imagine Damien likes to fill in Pip about what happens back on Earth

[fatuismooches]

Sobbing rn I just got hit with the cutest hurt/comfort idea for fragile!reader and Dottore

(The hurt in this instance is just fragile!reader's self deprecating inner monologue 😭)

What if reader was the sort who fussed over their appearance a lot? In the Akademiya they wouldn't be caught dead with dark circles under their eyes or having their hair messy.

Even if they did pull all nighters for a project, they always found time to put just a little bit of make-up on to lighten up their eyebags, and always had a simple yet neat hairstyle in mind in times they're in a rush.

They might be perishing from all the studies and assignments but they're going to look good doing it!

This made Reader and Zandik an even odder pair in the Akademiya. Reader who is always neat and in style, versus Zandik who just spent the whole night taking apart a ruin guard somewhere in Avidya Forest until the sun rose and he showed up as is.

That was one of the features Zandik found 'annoying' about Reader before they got together. Like - ugh they're so bubbly and energetic! They're running around everywhere and they're so chatty! Them with their— nice hair! And— pretty eyes, and those robes that actually fit them as if they were tailored! How pretentious of them— (he was down bad. Bro was coping with anger to bat away the feels)

But of course, that was all in the past. In the present, Reader can't take care of their appearance anymore. They couldn't even pick up a hairbrush, their joints ached horribly, they don't have the strength to hold something so light, they don't have the energy to do the basic care of untangling the strands of hair either.

They can't stand looking at their own reflection. That sense of 'wrongness' they couldn't fix, what they couldn't hide. How desperately they wanted to put just a little bit of blush at least, to give their skin some life with how sickeningly pale it was, no longer warm and saturated as it used to be.

They can't look at their eyes either. The greying, sagging bags beneath their lids was a taunt. No amount of sleep would get rid of them.

They can't wear outfits that were too elaborate. Their temperature fluctuated too much, a deathly cold beneath their skin, then a sudden spike in heat as if they were being scorched by the desert sun. They have to wear basic garments, comfortable without hindering layers to slow down their daily check-ups.

Reader is thankful for the segments caring for them, they really are. A segment brushing their hair while talking to them is a highlight of their day.

But... it wasn't the same.

Of course it wouldn't be, the segments were carers, nor stylists.

Still, the fact that they had no control over their appearance and presentation had their mental state withering.

Dottore noticed this. How withdrawn his dear had become. They had their days of silence, yes... but this was more sombre than usual.

He concludes that their illness was flaring up again, and that they were masking their pain instead of consulting with him. He comes to their room of course, his current duties be damned (not that he could've been productive even if he had wanted to, the Segments were restless and shrinking away from their tasks, their darling's current disposition bothered them.)

Opening the door slightly to enter, he sees them blankly staring at their reflection, prodding a finger on their prominent eyebags, rubbing their cheek to see if it would redden.

Ah... how could he had forgotten that. They were once very particular of how they looked. He should have known this possibility, witnessing their own sickly reflection would be distressing...

[The Crow visits a certain Dove. Despite how stiff and vague the Doctor had been with his words, the Damsalette only tittered in understanding, and imparted the knowledge he was seeking.]

The next day, Reader is sat on their vanity, waiting for a Segment to tend to them (always with a little bit of struggle to walk in the morning, but it's the least they could do to be less of an inconvenience already.)

The minutes tick by... he's late. Did something happen?

More time goes by, and they become more worried. They were about to get up and search before the door creaks open.

Zandik...? And he's carrying a... why does he have a bag?

They have plenty of questions. Why the late arrival? What was in the bag? Why was Zandik himself here?

Before they could ask all of this, however, he sets the small bag down on the vanity. He riffles through it... are those make-up brushes?

Wait, make-up?

The next half-hour was spent in stunned silence for Reader's part, Zandik was silent as well out of careful concentration. Gently applying everything, his touch on the brush strokes and blending soft... applying gloss on their lips.

Once Zandik moves on to their hair, they finally catch a glimpse of their reflection. Their cheeks were rosey, the dark circles under their eyes concealed, their lips no longer appearing dry, and instead plump and shimmering.

Oh.

... they almost looked like the way they were before their illness.

Almost.

But it was enough.

(Reader tries so hard not to cry. Fighting back tears, not wanting to ruin the make-up Zandik so diligently applied. Once Zandik was finished with their hair... they may have hiccuped a little bit.)

They may no longer have that upbeat energy they once boasted... but it was comforting to see their old reflection once again. It had been far too long.

You know, I really love this ask because my whole life I've pretty much never used make-up even though I want to so having Dottie do it for me heals me a bit. Also, I'm not very knowledgeable on it so apologies if anything is wrong. Okay, I'm done. 🤏

In all honesty, Dottore was never one to care much for outward looks but he has to admit that you still always manage to look good despite all of the work from school plus all of the work you help with for his experiments, plus... literally everything life throws at you. Yet you still bounce back like it was nothing. The scholar still had not discovered your secret to this yet despite observing you for so long, which furthered his interest in you even though he didn't admit it.

Zandik did maintain his appearance, to an extent of course as he didn't go out of his way to look great, but nothing compared to the effort you put in. So while he did look presentable most of the time, there have been quite a few times you made him late to class because there was no way you were going to let him out looking like that. You don't regret it, even when you get weird looks from the other students. Being 'odd' with your equally as odd lover was nothing to worry about, in your humble opinion.

Although Zandik couldn't hope to understand your strange nature, always mumbling under his breath about you while you laughed at his comments, he also couldn't help but enjoy being around you. You kept him on his toes (your words, not his.)

Unfortunately, this nature and style of yours gradually dissipated into nothing when your illness struck. At first, you refused to accept it, pushing yourself to do what you usually did but soon enough you realized that it simply wasn't going to work out. You had all these tools and resources and options in front of you but you couldn't use them anymore. The self-consciousness only grew more and more each day as you struggled to see yourself as beautiful - struggled to see yourself as a person Dottore would find beautiful.

Of course, your gratitude to the segments couldn't be properly expressed or put into words. You quite literally wouldn't be here without them. However, it is still incredibly demoralizing to be unable to do what you once loved. You really did love them, but... it wasn't enough.

Dottore, despite spending much time in his lab or elsewhere, still kept tabs on you of course. Not just as your doctor, but as your lover, it was important. He had seen you at your lowest numerous times before, comforting you through the worst moments, and he was angered - not at you of course, but rather at himself for being unable to do anything that would be enough for you. Yet he continued, even when you hid yourself from him.

This time, however, maybe the scientist could do a bit more. He doesn't particularly... approve of the Third, or your "friend", but she's far more knowledgeable in this area than he'll ever be. Thankfully, she didn't tease him too much, knowing of your current state.

Dottore had never been one to take much interest in your make-up or style, preferring to simply watch as you worked your magic. So seeing him walk in with make-up makes you think you're still dreaming. (You remember laughing at his segment's various fashion tastes when you woke up though.)

The questions die on your lips the moment he lays everything out and the soft brush tickles your face, not to mention how he's obviously inexperienced yet he's still doing a good job. A part of you aren't surprised because of course he'd be skilled at most things, but still, you thought Celestia would sooner fall on Teyvat than Dottore do your make-up for you. Slowly, you watch as he transforms your face into something that was once dearly familiar.

It's not the same. It may never be. But it's more than enough for you, to revisit the old days that you loved so much. You fear you may cry full-on if you speak, so a simple kiss on your husband's face will have to do.

But regardless of what you look like, no matter how much your body and looks will change, Zandik will always view you as the most beautiful creation on this planet.

[catlover4536]

Coming here to say masc presenting Julie is one of my favorite Julie ideas out there and that, of course, I needed to make a femme presenting Frank to compliment @cyanwyrmy and their wonderful Julie!

[pseudophan]

im friends with like half the gilmore girls cast on facebook cause i was super annoying when i was 12 and so now this app just gives me the funniest notifications. sure man, me and the bestie

[muirmarie]

Me: I joke about writing the same McCoy centric story over and over again in different ways

Me: and like. I love doing it and imma keep doing it because it makes me happy.

Me: but also. I do sometimes wonder if it's like. A little Much.

Me: like maybe I should branch out or something

Me: [reads another fundamental and extremely insulting misread of McCoy's character by someone who is clearly making a Choice to cast McCoy as the villain, because they have to get him out of the way of spirk, because they're too???? idk immature??? to realize that even when you're in a relationship with one person, other ppl can and SHOULD still be important to you]

Me: lmao I hope I AM too much actually!!!! I hope it is 100% obnoxious how much I love that doctor!!!!! Time to write more versions of the same story of McCoy being forced to realize that he is loved and cared for!!!!!!

Me: I KNOW MY NICHE AND IMMA DIE IN THAT NICHE, THANKS

[sk-ench]

nahyuta sahdmadhi

[crying-wolves]

hi!! why stress when you can be in a fictional world??

so i kept seeing my ex this week 🫣 after not seeing them for a year 🥴 and im over her but it’s like first gay love you know? that shit fucks you up!!!

i kept thinking about abby and how i wish i could text her 😭😭 like babe come pick me up PLEASE

so yeah maybe something around that?? i think we all need some abby comfort

You usually weren’t known for making mistakes.

Seriously, as overconfident and precise as it sounds, you were always the smart one. Level-headed in a way that pissed your friends off when all they wanted to do was go a little feral. Experiment. Let whatever happens, happen.

Yeah, you didn’t buy into that whole “let the universe make your choices for you” moonshine. Didn’t appeal to you in the slightest.

So why, oh, why are you spending your Friday night standing outside of a crumbling sports bar, rubbing at those tears that threaten to fall from your eyes onto the ground below you?

You guess the universe pushes and pushes until it finally has its way with you in the end.

Your fingers had dialed practically everyone of your four roommates in the past 10 minutes that you’ve been standing out in the balmy summer air, but, of fucking course, each call went straight to voice mail every single time.

Figures! The one time you decide to do something out of your comfort zone and everything starts spinning off its axis immediately.

The idea of calling an Uber flits across the back of your mind, but you really don’t want to spend anymore money tonight, having already handed your card over to the bartender enough times that you were thoroughly buzzed and feeling that if you checked your bank account right now, all of those vodka sodas would come racing back up your throat. Hard pass.

It isn’t until you scroll through your contacts for the fifth consecutive time and land right back at the top, however, that you stop to consider what may be the most obvious answer of the night: Abby Anderson. Fuckin’ duh.

Abby “Permanent Designated Driver” Anderson. The girl who has decidedly quit drinking altogether after deciding that she really wants to take her whole softball career seriously. Abby Anderson who is always, always wide awake into the deep recesses of the night, cramming for her 8am or putting in a few last minute hours at the gym.

Abby Anderson, sweet, sweet, Abby, somehow bestowed with the patience of a saint and the subtlety of a freight train, who will definitely pick you up, but won’t hesitate to ask what you’re doing at this ratty old place at 2:30 in the morning.

It’s probably a lot better than practically dragging your way home, so, why not?

You dial the number and she picks up within 3 rings, a little out of breath. You guess she took on the weight room, tonight.

“Yeah?”

Your body stiffens. Fuck! How well do you actually know Abby? You’ve barhopped with her and some other friends in the past, but most of those nights were spent casually sipping at a bottle of soda while you listen to everyone else converse and socialize. When was the last time you actually spoke to her?

“Is this one of those county cop calls that keeps going around campus, cause I’m not signing your fuckin’ petition—“

“No, no!” You blurt out, a little surprised at yourself. “It’s just— I mean, it’s just…me?”

Abby says your name inquisitively through the phone, sounding as startled as you are. “Hey…is everything alright?”

You scan your surroundings as if they’ll give you the answer that you’re looking for, and shrug like she can see you. Could be worse, you guess?

“Are you busyyy tonight?” You slur a little, and she seems concerned at the sound.

“No, I’m, uh, free? Are you in—“

“Could you, maybeee, give me a ride home?”

You think you can hear a ‘pause sound’ moving through her head, or maybe you’re just a bit more drunk than you thought.

“Yeah! Yeah, totally, just…are you off-campus, or—?”

“Mmhmm! I’llsendyouthelocation, byeee!”

You click the end call button and stare st the black screen. Since when did you get so frazzled over talking to her? She sounds the same as she usually does, right? Choosing not to think about it too much, the location is sent her way and, judging by the distance, she should be there in 20 minutes.

She’s there in 15. You hear her before you can actually make out the vehicle in the distance. It’s late. The roads are empty. You didn’t give her much context, so, you don’t exactly blame her for hurrying.

But her car pulls up in front of you like a heavy metal chariot, and you get a little anxious about stepping into the passenger’s seat in your sheer black dress and platform heels.

Neither of you say anything for the first minute and you’re rather grateful. Your insides feel like poorly melted snow, and you’re not sure if it’s the way that Abby’s gripping the steering wheel or the fact that she keeps glancing over at you through the side window. You see your legs shift against the leather seats, but your mind is elsewhere.

“Did you, uh, get to the bar alone?” She begins, tapping her thick fingers against the wheel, sounding like she’s trying to broach something, but you don’t know what it is yet.

You squint down at your phone screen to check the time again. Right. The evening started way earlier than you remembered.

“Nope. Came here on a blind date.”

Abby tries not to react like that shocks her, but she doesn’t quite make the mark.

“You went—! Oh! Right! ‘course! Makes sense…”

Silence, again. The kind that’s unbearable in situations like these. You roll down the window for some fresh air, but it makes the both of you sweat even more.

“Did it…go well?”

You purse your lips together and shake your head. “Nope. She was kind of a dick.”

Abby lets out a breathy chuckle at your answer and you decide to keep going.

“She wasn’t really that into me. Kept chatting up the waitress and interrupting me whenever I spoke. Said she had to leave early to pick up her little brother from his friend’s house, but she said she was an only child when I asked earlier, so…”

“Damn…that’s—that’s rough…”

“Yeah…”

What is with the both of you and pained silences? Seems to be something in the air tonight.

Abby clears her throat while you’re silently moping at the memories, and when you get to a red light, she turns to take you in.

“If it makes you feel any better, the last date I went on snuck out of the back door before dessert.”

You gasp, dramatically, and she rolls her eyes in the same manner.

“No fuckin’ way! You’re tellin’ meee that someone would actually pass up a chance to go on a date with you?” The utter disbelief that you stare up at her with makes her cheeks go pink, and she can’t help but feel a little satisfied with herself. She smiles, a little bitterly.

“Not as much of a catch as you think I am, babe.”

You can’t help but giggle. “Oh, I hardly believe that, Ms. Anderson.”

If there’s one thing you can thank the alcohol for, besides getting you in Abby’s car in the first place, it’s the extra push it gives you to go for the things you actually want.

“You know, Abigail, if you’re into it, we could, maybe, do a repeat performance of our shitty dates with each other, and make them…not shitty? How’s that sound?”

You feel the smile before you see it on her face. It’s like she can bring the warmth of the sun into any space she occupies.

“Well…” she starts “As long as you promise to at least tell me before you sneak out the back, then, we got ourselves a deal.”

You’re giddy with all that light she brings. And, you think, briefly, that sure, maybe you don’t usually make these kinds of mistakes, but at least this one scored you a date with THE Abby Anderson.

So, maybe, possibly, the universe could very well be onto something.

[potatobugz]

dynamic that i think would be really funny: Pip being uncharacteristically pissy & passive aggressive towards Gregory because he keeps one-upping him in every way. *forced smile thru gritted teeth* "hello gerogry how ar.eyou today"

and also Gregory does not realize that he hates him

he gets a little bit of jealousy. as a treat

[untimelyambition]

i am begging on my hands and knees for jon matteson and bryce charles to sing a song together. since i first watched npmd, every single day without fail i have thought about their harmonies together in hatchet town (“if he gets me next i could be three” and “fits the bill, he fits the bill”) literally the sickest harmonies in the entire show, i turn into a little gremlin every time i hear them. their voices sound SO good together it actually makes me a little ill. my favourite song my favourite line my favourite harmonies, their voices blend perfectly and i am so desperate to hear them sing a duet to hear them singing together again pls pls please pls pls pls. pls.

[kirishwima]

forgot bout this txt my bestie sent me

yes. yes babe, White Hair Boy IS my favorite (most horribly sadly unfortunately and horrifyingly)

[scalpelsister]

what if i lost the will to live like. as a joke. what then.

[iceeericeee]

I wonder how many tags i can add on to this

[nailgunstigmata]

people complaining about the monster high gen 3 designs are the weakest breed and i say this as someone who was obsessed with gen 1. the new dolls literally have so much more character and unique molds and facial structures like???? theyre so much cuter and more unique. like nooo omg my dolls for children dont all have the same face and skinny body omg 🥺🥺🥺 god forbid the kids who these dolls are targeted at feel represented. i hate u and u are pathetic. get away from them

[firstofficerkittycat]

hey. hi hello. what gave u the right to make the most gut wrenching video ive ever seen in my entire life (star trek is about the sixties). how dare you. you changed my life.

Okay !���yay

[featherdawn]

I've expressed how I don't like the whole wally x y/n thing the fandom has going on but the more I think about it the more,,, uncomfortable it gets on my head

like, not as a self shipping thing, if ur in love with wally go fuckin nuts! I'm more talking about how like, y/n has become a character in the fanon

which firstly, who exactly is y/n supposed to be, in wallys eyes? it seems the person his voice messages are directed to is the playfellow workshop employee, and it's possible he doesn't know that that person is not us, the outsiders viewing but entirely uninvolved with the restoration. if he does know we're separate, then it's most likely he views us as the audience for welcome home. the thoughts of an adult character having a crush on the target audience of a young children's show is,,, uncomfortable.

even ignoring all that, and assuming he knows us as 1. not the playfellow employee, 2. adults, and 3. as multiple separate people (which throws another wrench into this. which one of us is y/n? is he just seeking the world's largest polycule here?), it just feels. odd for his character to be in love with the viewer. in the show, he's supposed to be an audience surrogate, isn't he? why would he be in love with the very person/people he's supposed to represent? it doesn't make much sense from a storytelling perspective to me.

finally, he doesn't show any signs of being romantically interested in us lmao. the closest we get is an "I love you", which, congrats, a children's show character said they love you. that happens platonically all the time lol

this isn't meant to like. rain on anyone's parade or discourage ppl making wally x y/n content (a lot of it is really cute! despite my overall negative feelings on the ship, I still sometimes enjoy looking at yalls art, yall are talented <333), more just. express frustration with how ingrained it is in the fanon. people seem to treat it as canon and its not and it can be frustrating seeing it absolutely everywhere, yk?