#going back wooo

[tiredsadpeach]

Tired sleepy it’s the hour of the mist (5pm)

[risingsunresistance]

who would win, god of the realm or one (1) hog 🐖

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 120

Lancer hasn’t been in the business for years. He’d long since retired, having enough to live comfortably, to finally go to college, and to slip away from the scene like a ghost. Or perhaps not like a ghost, apparently they liked to make a racket. 

 But he was getting increasingly concerned about one Danny Fenton. He didn’t want to assume anything of course, but it was increasingly obvious that something was very wrong. Something familiarly wrong, even if he himself was never a part of that side of things. 

 He tries to tell himself that it’ll all be fine, he’s out of that life after all. But he can only see a teen getting shot at so many times. Can only try to convince himself not to get back into exercising and practicing his shot. He can only see that teen come into his class exhausted and bruised so many times without helping however slightly. 

But then the GIW happens. The city gets stolen into another dimension. Everyone got dosed with ecto, everyone is at risk. Danny is just a kid, who shouldn’t have to deal with this. Whose curled up in his home with his friends bandaged and bleeding green. 

It seems it might be time to call his old fling. So here he was, tapping his foot as he looked out his window far too late at night while waiting for the phone to connect. It felt like forever before it did, but that only strengthened his resolve. 

 “Hey Slade, hope you remember me because I have information about something you’ll really want to know…” 

(I misspelled and it corrected to fling instead of friend but i am keepin that in lmao)

[creeperchild]

currently watching that show with my bestie for life and that show slaps (i forgot how good it was (tho episode 4 doesnt really need to exist))

I just dump my selfindulgent stuff in here before I return to cotl. Sometimes it feels nice to draw in more complex styles, you know?

I shall waddle back to cotl, if you need me <3

[nihilismtrcit]

did nora clean or unpack anything today? no. did she write? also no. she did have beer for breakfast, though

[riacte]

so hey guys i finished dungeon meshi yesterday and i'm still thinking about it

[soupmanspeaks]

you ever wonder if the Glamrocks's face tracking acts up when they look at Glamrock-Freddy, like they'll look at his face, and the recognition will register as Freddy, but their systems for whatever reason or another think that there is a face overlapped on Freddy's do you think they see two small squares next to him, at his side, roughly child sized, but no one is physically there.... right...?

[romance-rambles]

[modern] cael | should've said it to my face

After reading Cael's response to your comment, you eventually give into your impulsive thoughts and call him. It turns out to be a misunderstanding

2k, takes place during qixi event [minor spoilers for the card], misunderstandings + fluff, reader is mc, series: none

DINNER TIME SEES YOU SCROLLING aimlessly through Lofter, in search of something to do.

You're sprawled across the couch on your back, knees bent, with a plate—stacked with airfryer dino nuggets and french fries—balanced precariously in front of you. The hand not occupied with your phone holds onto a half-empty soda can. When you remember to eat, you stick it in the gap between you and the sofa's backrest and pray it doesn't spill over again.

In the background, a movie you'd seen multiple trailers for in your spare time runs on the TV. For the first thirty minutes, it was rather entertaining, actually—for reasons beyond the absolutely stellar writing. It was, and is, filled with so many cliches, all dragged out and played entirely straight, that it makes you wonder if the writers had a checklist.

Then, your editor texted you around the time the couple had their first date and—well.

Though it turned out that the phone call she was asking for had nothing to do anything that would make a perpetually tardy artist quiver in fear, Beanie can attest to what a disaster the fifteen minutes before said phone call were.

Your shirt is still sticky from the spilt soda, and worse, the water you splashed on the stain has left you soaked. And on top of that, your shirt wasn't the only victim in this mess. Now, some of your nuggets carry with them a hint of sweetness—one that can't be attributed to the ketchup.

They're still good, you think stubbornly, glaring at someone imaginary sitting opposite to you.

You pull your legs closer, clearly disgruntled, and sit up straight. The artifacts of your makeshift party for one change positions with you, making you look less like a slob after work hours—even if that is what you were going for.

Because that someone imaginary looks suspiciously like Cael, with that close-mouthed smile that reeks of barely-disguised amusment. A menace with good publicity, though you'd take this Cael over the "old" one any day.

After all, this one is yours—to have, and to hold, for as long as you live.

You think of the characters in your latest manga, and of those last few pages; of the red dress the painter had picked out, and of where the spirit's—and yours—thoughts had gone. The ones you'd added as a bonus after dicussing a much happier ending with Cael. Frankly, it's the most self-indulgent thing you'd written since In Passing, except this time, you didn't bother holding back on your fantasies.

"Wait," you mutter, squinting down at an artwork from one of your mutuals on your phone. The poor dinosaur that gets offered up to your hungry belly this time is thankfully not one of the soggy ones. "Has he seen it yet?"

The answer to your question, once you regretfully pull your gaze away from the beautiful man you drew, and pull up your latest post on Lofter is yes.

hubby: This drawing is great.

A simple compliment, yet your spirits soar to never-before-seen heights. With your free hand, you cup your cheek; your pinkie finger can only partially hide the curved end of your lips. Then, like a thick veil, your hair falls over half of your face, prompting a small laugh from you.

As you tuck your hair behind your ear, you can't help but think it adds to the scene. The lovesick smile. His comment. The affection swelling in your fluttering heart.

You imagine the soft smile on his face when he saw your post and wonder why he isn't here to tuck your hair back for you.

Truth is, you'd never learned how to stop missing Cael, even after he'd returned to being a permanent fixture in your life. The only time you don't miss him is when he's in front of you—when you can wrap your arms around him, in a carefully struck balance of spoiled and loving, and hear his exasperated chuckle as he pulls you in closer.

Maybe that is why the words you write in response lack any double meanings.

you: @hubby But I feel that the person in the drawing is better than the drawing itself.

Tracing the silhouette of his hair, you think this is the Cael that comes closest to showcasing his ethereal beauty. All that practice through drawing the Silver Knight has left you as the most qualified person to make that judgement. It is with this thought in mind, and a puffed chest, that you wait for his response.

And Cael could be busy, for all you know. It could take a while for him to respond, for all you know.

Still, if you play your cards right, when you tell him how long you waited, he'll pat your head. And on your forehead, the heat from his loving kiss will linger for long after he pulls away.

You grin at the thought and scroll down.

hubby: Me too.

At first, you can only blink.

Me too, you repeat dumbly, tilting your head to the side. You must look like quite the catch, with three nuggets and countless fries stuffed into you face. ME TOO?

The vision of his faint smirk transforms your previously lovesick demeanor in an instant. Swallowing your food down, you glare at the snarky comment, thumbs hovering over the digital keyboard without a reply in mind.

It would've been better if he'd said it to your face. You could tackle him—maybe kiss the smirk off his face. Countless letters are typed out and erased within seconds of each other, simply because you can't settle on anything to say. The scowl on your face deepens as you swipe out of the app.

And you're not sure what happens after that, but when you come to, you find yourself staring at half of an objectively terrible selfie you'd taken with Cael—

And Ringing... written underneath.

When he picks up, the first thing Cael says is your name.

"What a coincidence." Your boyfriend chuckles softly. "I was thinking I wanted to hear your voice."

You fear the psychological damage is irreversible. Why did you call him again?

Oh, rig—wait a minute.

"Did you miss me?" you ask, not so much curious as you are delighted. "Wait."

Never let it be said that you don't have your priorities straight. You're sure anyone in your position would do the same thing. So, with a giggle—both at your snarky comment and at the prospect of being missed by Cael—you pull your phone away from your ear and make your earlier wish of seeing his face come true.

"Let me—" You adjust your bangs, knowing well the futility of doing so. "—Let me turn my camera on."

When you finally catch sight of his beautiful face, as the camera turns on, Cael is smiling gently.

Upon catching a glimpse of your current, haphazard appearance—the pile of hair tied up in some kind of half-bun, half-ponytail, the ratty old t-shirt that's simply too comfortable to part with, and, you realize embarassedly, the ketchup stains and nugget crumbs plastered all over your mouth—he shakes his head. Out of habit, his free hand hovers in the air for a moment before he puts it down. Even before he shoots you a helpless look, you can tell he's wishing for the same thing.

"You should—" Gesturing at his own mouth, free of crumbs, he tries to help you out. "Mhm, you got most of them."

For a party of one, you didn't find napkins to be a necessity—so, instead, you have to make do with your oily hands. It's hardly the most elegant side you've shown him, but you also know he's seen worse. And if he can still watch you fondly, frankly, you don't think you have a need to be concerned.

With a grimace, you brush the fallen crumbs off of your lap and onto the couch. You're going to have to vacuum it, unless you want it to be teeming with ants. The thought makes you shudder.

Cael's lovely voice cuts through the horrific visions of an ant takeover and replaces them with much more pleasant imagery. "What are you thinking about?"

"Ants," you say, without skipping a beat, then laugh. "Well, that and I have a bone to pick with you."

He blinks, looking as though he's desperately trying to surpass a laugh. "Alright. What is it?"

Upon studying his expression, you find that it's rather reminiscent of the one that'd pushed you over the edge. This time—perhaps because of the way the amusement glittering in his violet eyes makes them pop—you smile softly. Laying back down on the sofa, with your head comfortably resting against the armrest, you grin and start describing your dilemma.

"The truth is, I was fishing for another compliment," you tell him, as if offering him a carefully-guarded confession.

Your voice is suitably dramatic, with a sliver of faux mournfulness coming through. Unfortunately, you're not particularly good at faking tears—so it is all you have in your arsenal.

Cael looks down at you from the phone's screen, clearly exasperated. You bring your arms down to a more comfortable position and adjust some of your bangs. With the plate of nuggets still on your lap, you can't bend your knees as you'd like. As a compromise, you cross your legs over one another.

Finally, he breaks the silence.

"I'll make up for it, but—" Your boyfriend hesitates. "Nevermind."

Even though the hamsters in your brain have started sounding the alarms, even though you're certain he's messing with you, you still fall for it—hook, line, and sinker. It leaves you incapable of saying anything beyond but.

With an elegance you might've admired at any other time, he ignores your minor break in coherency. But the smile on his face is, for all intents and purposes, a grin, genuine but unfortunately tinged with amusement, and you can't find it in yourself to be too upset. You still remember his lighthouse comment.

You wonder if he'd notice if you took a screenshot. He did say he didn't like to use his deduction abilities on you.

Humming a song you'd texted him without explanation, he begins to ask, "How would you like me to make up for—"

"But."

"I was talking about the girl in the painting," he relents finally, softly smiling at you. You like to think your glare broke him down.

But the person in the drawing...

True, you'd never specified who you were talking about. Neither had he. It really is true what they say about assumptions, you think, aware that you can't quite think of an accusation that won't backfire on you.

So, like a gaping fish—maybe one swimming in warmer weather, if your warm cheeks are any indication—you gawk at him.

"Is that surprising?" he asks.

Deliberately, you turn your head away. To make yourself feel like a productive person, you pretend you're searching for your beloved cat, who must've slinked away at some point. Then again, you're pretty sure bribery goes a long way with Beanie—and no one's better at it than Cael.

Maybe Beanie would side against you instead.

"Maybe I haven't said it enough. That you're the most beautiful person I know."

As your mind slowly registers the words, you blink. Clearly, Cael hasn't spent enough time staring at a mirror. If he'd said woman, you might've debated for a bit before folding. You might've even seized the opportunity he's presented you with immediately.

Instead, you squint at him.

Surely, he hasn't forgotten how the students of St. Shelter Academia hold his beauty in high esteem. Or the many, perhaps unnecessary, compliments to his beauty in In Passing, even after you'd returned to Godheim. Sure, he might not have registered your unsubtle crush on him back then, but surely, now—

Surely.

Maybe I'm the one who hasn't said it enough.

"That's right." You nod your head solemnly—as if you're unbothered by the thoughts running through your head—and hold up your pinky finger with a smug grin. "You should say it more. Pinky swear."

Despite the distance, he still holds up his pinky finger for you.

[cha1cedony]

I think part of the reason Gothcleats has literally like consumed my mind since becoming canon is because I think about the Wilsons in the context of marriage/romantic relationships SO much?? Like. Being aro, I normally don’t like analyzing characters through the lens of romance and how they function with crushes or in relationships… It’s just not that interesting to me, and I don’t like basing a character’s personality or worth on their romantic (or sexual) dynamics with other characters. BUT THE WILSONS? OH BOY.

Ramble under the cut bc this got way too long

ALSO!!! Warning for discussions of sex! Not very in-depth. (It’s mostly just about Grant and Marco hooking up on the Titanic lol)

Anyway!

So so so much of the Wilsons’ identities in canon (and also to an even further extent in my fics/headcanons/mind hehe) are based on their marriages and immediate nuclear families. For Darryl, his entire life WAS his family. As far as we know, the same was the case for Frank, and even Robert Wilson was pretty much always talking about his gal Sal iirc. Like obviously bc this podcast is about family, BUT as your resident Wilsons expert (lmao), I want to put forth that the Wilsons in particular are about marriage!

I think the best example of this, actually, is in S2 when (on the night before Grant’s WEDDING), Darryl is talking to Grant about marriage and says that he and Grant both know that Carol and Marco respectively are too good for them. Which like. is also one of the most loaded and important statements to me in this whole goddamned podcast (and probably THE most important for the Wilsons) for many reasons. but I digress lolol

For Darryl and Grant both, there’s a perceived power imbalance in their marriages: not in an abusive way or anything, but rather as like… a measure of self-worth? For better or worse, their self-esteem and sense of self-worth are dependent on the people close to them, especially their romantic partners.

Darryl is constantly comparing himself to his father (as is Grant), but not just as a father—as a husband, too. Darryl tells Frank that he wishes he had the kind of relationship with Carol that Frank had with Darryl’s mom (which is. doubly ironic and sad bc Darryl’s mom was cheating on Frank, and he almost cheated on her, too. but I digress again oops)

But he compares himself to Carol, too, thinking she’s smarter and ‘better’ than him, and Grant especially compares himself a LOT to Marco, saying that Lincoln would be better off with Marco as a single dad and that Marco is ‘better’ than him in general. I find this extra interesting bc Frank does NOT do the same with Darryl’s mom; in fact, he (albeit light-heartedly) says she’s worse than him for having cheated—I don’t have transcripts in front of me, but something along the lines of “If you think that’s bad…”

And that’s why I think the best (and honestly only) way to really examine the Wilsons as characters/people is through the lens of their marriages.

So much of Darryl’s character especially is based solely on Carol. He’s been with her since she was 13-14 and he was 14-15, and so much of his personality and life is entirely formed around her. She’s his best friend. When he gets the idea that she might be cheating on him, or dead (as a mummy), he loses himself because, like. What else is he if not Carol’s best friend, her husband, the father of her son? Almost any time Darryl has any character development (that isn’t related to his dad or son), it’s about his romantic and sexual relationships and feelings: with Carol, with Sweet Matilda, with the fucking sex pit! Lmao

And he and Carol NOT divorcing after S1 is honestly the only thing that makes sense to me; what else would he do? Even if they never manage to fix it all, what else does he have? (The answer is all of his family and newfound friends, but he can’t see it that way; his self-worth centers around HER, remember; she’s BETTER than him.) So they stay together, and he dies believing she still loves him and will be happy to be unchangingly domestic him with him all over again in heaven, whether it’s true or not. Until then, he lives with a facade of her and their son (btw the fake personal heaven Grant is a kid, so Darryl is presumably reliving his life before the events of S1 without changing anything which… is sad for a whole other set of reasons) because Darryl can’t be alone; what is he alone? ALSO. Okay actually no. I won’t get on my aromantic Darryl soapbox right now, but….. expect it at a later date lol. This part got kinda rambly/headcanon-y oops.

A lot of Grant’s character is ABOUT his romantic feelings/relationships; he’s pretty much inextricable from them. His crush on Yeet was originally his whole character (aside from aloof gamer kid lol): Shy, easily embarrassed, extremely obvious about his crush, trying to impress this cute and cool guy. And then, by the time of the Supper Bowl arc, after the chimera and everything else, he becomes more complex, of course, but those feelings are still at the center of everything—because they’re his escape.

He tells Yeet the TWO things that make him feel alive are violence (whether done TO him or BY him) and his crush on Yeet. Grant’s romantic feelings become linked and equated with violence and rage (which. makes me feel crazy btw but anyway. Sorry I love Grant beyond words) and are the only temporary cures for his dissociation.

So when Grant is an adult, of course he relies on romance and sex like a crutch; it makes him feel safe and real, and it’s an intersection of love and violence that makes him feel at peace.

I know it’s a funny moment, but this always makes me think of him and Marco hooking up on the Titanic: Grant believes wholeheartedly that they are both going to die and that there’s nothing he can do about it (or maybe he just doesn’t even want to try to save them). When Marco finds out what’s happening and sort of scolds Grant for it, Grant is embarrassed and says it’s because he’s just “having so many feelings” (probably not exact words), which is also interesting because that’s pretty much the opposite of his original problem of dissociating.

But, between being overwhelmed and dissociative, at its core, the same root feeling is there: hopelessness and helplessness. Also, in his second conversation with Lincoln is S2, Grant says that violence and killing help with his self-worth, also (which ties back to what I said earlier about the connection between the Wilsons’ self-worth and their marriages). When Grant kills someone, all of his doubts disappear and “it all goes white.” If we’re looking at this through the lens that Grant equates violence and love/sex, it must give him that same feeling of… blissful ignorance? Emptiness.

This leads me to believe Grant copes with feelings of hopelessness and self-doubt not just through killing, but through romance and sex, too—like we see on the Titanic (lol)

There’s a lot more speculation I could do about both Darryl and Grant (and Frank, and even all their spouses), but I’m trying to leave it to at least canon-adjacent stuff. Anyway, let me finally circle this all back around to Lincoln lol…

It’s clear that Lincoln thinks romantic relationships are very important. He thinks marriage is beautiful (and, based on his dads’ marriage, that all marriages are good and happy lol—which is especially funny/interesting to me when you consider the several times it’s been said that something Lincoln did/does is the only thing holding their marriage together, and he’s the whole reason Grant didn’t call off the wedding in the first place). His dads have spent a lot of time educating him about love and sex and personal choice in both of those categories, which he references a few times, but, despite their emphasis on personal choice and not raising him Catholic but encouraging him to believe whatever he wants, Lincoln, at 16, is SURE that he will get married someday (and probably young, since he said to Normal that a few years is a long time to wait lol). The Wilsons’ generational insistence on marriage, romantic relationships, and nuclear families persists regardless of Catholicism, it seems :’)

Lincoln’s marriage to Chris in the simulation was also clearly really important to him—and to Chris, too, since they asked him never to remarry. I know the cast joked about this, but it does make me a little sad that Lincoln’s relationship with Chris seemed to be a lot like Darryl’s with Carol! Granted, we only know a like two things about Chris lol… also, I LIKE Chris and Carol! A lot! No hate to either of them <3 but also, that doesn’t mean those relationships aren’t strained, you know?

Anyway! A lot of Lincoln’s character can of course be attributed to his dads’ marriage, like I said before, but his marriage in the simulation was pretty big, too. Although he doesn’t talk about it a lot, it must have matured him, at least on the inside. He later references the job he had in the simulation, as well as being a dad. When he marries the other teens in space, he still thinks of Chris and what they would think. Once again, like Darryl and Grant, a lot of Lincoln’s decisions and beliefs are tied to his spouse—even if they’re not there or were never even real to begin with. Even once he’s married to the other teens, he takes it VERY seriously with pet names and domesticities.

All of this to say, it makes me wonder about his marriage to Scary in relation to his characterization as an adult! I’m not speculating that their relationship is bad or anything; I don’t want it to be and in fact VERY MUCH hope they’ve broken cycles. I just wonder how it affects him as a character (and Scary, too, of course)!

I was really excited when Gothcleats became canon not just because I shipped them, but mostly because I think the Wilsons are most interesting when looked at through their marriages. Lincoln has always put a really strong emphasis on marriage, and all of his pet names and PDA with Scary in the S2 epilogue confirmed to me that they take after the previous Wilson generations in GOOD ways, which makes me really happy.

I guess the main question I’m getting at is about how Lincoln perceives himself in this relationship. In the years soon after the end of S2, does he still feel that same emptiness and feeling of “not caring”? Does he try to cure it in the same way as his father, making “it all go white” with violence or sex or getting someone else to hold him together, or his grandfather, suppressing his depression and trying to will it away with love and close/‘happy’ romantic relationships? Does he find any of those things in Scary? Does he see himself as her equal, or does he feel inferior, like she’s smarter or more capable or ‘better’ than him? He did say multiple times in S2 that she’s the leader, she’s the one who knows what she’s doing, and he just wants to follow along because he doesn’t care anymore.

I hope not. I hope Lincoln and Scary are really happy together. I hope their self-worth is not determined by their partner. I guess that’s all this ramble is :’)

OKAY WHEW. I’m done. That was fun :D

Thanks for subjecting yourself to my ramblings omfg… please send me all of your Wilsons thoughts always. I’ve been wanting to write a long thing about this FOREVER… The aro Darryl fic(s) will come eventually. Also one about Grant coping (badly lol) with sex, which has been in the works forever bc I am bad at NSFW. But it’s fun. Uhhh I guess that’s all?

OH ALSO. If you want to read more of my post-canon Gothcleats thoughts, I published a 15k fic the other day about Jerry being their foster kid! Here you go :3

Hit the Ground Running - chalcedony

(It’s very fluffy and sweet—which is rare for me, but I promise I’m not lying! It’s silly and fun. And I do not speculate too much about Lincoln’s inner turmoil, I pinky promise)

If you read this all. Um…. Sorry? LMAO. Here is a gold star for you ⭐️

[crimeronan]

AM i reading too much into it or is the amputation line when lilith takes away amity’s magic also a tongue in cheek reference to Grim!Amity AU

either way it’s so so so good

GOD IS GOOD I'M SO HAPPY SOMEBODY NOTICED THIIIIISSSSSSSSS..... THANK U....

yes it is :D

[izuizzy]

I’m cooking (writing another au fic lol)

[linkvcr]

Oh my god. Finished minish cap btw

[p1x1x]

me pushing myself further with my art drawing really cool perspectives and whatever with the Duo and then i turn around and make lame cutesy ship art waaahhah 😭😭😭

dont read the tags on this if you havent watched gbc i just ramble spoilers 😭 just uhh screaming yknow. mostly mmnn but i like the other characters i swear its just these guys are making me insane

[cloudster-clown]

Philza Wednesday "stream"-

Oh wait

oh...

HE FELL IN THE RGB TOILET NOOO WHO WILL STREAM FOR US NOW

OH OK WAIT. WE ARE BACK. I had no idea that irl stuff translates into games... You learn something new everyday I guess

He looks to see how many gapples there are today, it appears to be 100 more than last time LETSGO

After eating many gapples, Phil goes back to placing podzol. Time to chill! :]

Oh? Phil is glad that there aren't any interruptions for all this work? He's getting too overconfident, let's hit him with an endermen ear check redemption PepeLaugh

DISTRACTION TIMEEEEEE

Left ear check

*ENDERMEN DEATH NOISES*

Right ear check

*ENDERMEN DEATH NOISES*

Center console

*ENDERMEN DEATH NOISES*

Surround sound

*ENDERMEN DEATH NOISES*

ooo

*MORE ENDERMEN DEATH NOISES*

Phil returned home after that endermen ear check redemption, someone redeemed a go fishing redemption. More distractions for the old man PepeLaugh

Phil this time returned home to FINALLY continue placing the podzol down. It appears he brought a chicken with him and named it Cluckus the Great(of course it was chat that made him bring it back home hehe).

Phil went back to work and was removing a bit more sand to place more of the podzol down. Someone in chat saw this as an opportunity to donate him bits just to say "wilbur sand eat haha". Thank you wilbursootfan2128 for that hilarious joke!(no)

For the rest of the stream Phil was PHILZAING on halo once again. Someone brought up red vs blue which caused all of this. It doesn't matter though, it was relaxing :D

Ok, that's the end of stream today, here we have kristin doing the outro while scaring the old man lol.

Bai guys

BYYYYYYEEEEEEE

*pop* *pop* *pop* *pop* *pop**pop*

*phil noise*

ah

[crow-with-a-pencil]

Green light

[socksboxsketches]