#idk man i have. no idea what to do about this i dont wanna be annoying about it again cuz thats CRINGE

[yuridovewing]

i understand the frustration with “i made this gay pairing cis x trans so they can still have biological babies” with no thought to other methods and how ppl assume thats the case when it comes to mothpool aus where mothwing is also the mother of the three, but also…. idk i kinda dont give a shit if someone wants to do that and i dont really think its inherently transphobic as long as its handled with care and respect.

what really concerns me about this debate is how some people are adamant that you cannot portray trans people having biological children in media or youre being disrespectful. and im gonna say as a nonbinary person who doesnt want children for themself- thats kinda fucking weird? like i understand that for some people, theyre trans themselves and theyre speaking from a place of dysphoria, and i absolutely get that, which is why i think the topic should be handled with nuance and diversity in trans characters, but like…. guys. pregnant trans men exist irl. trans women get people pregnant irl. trans ppl’s ability and right to parent and have biological children are being debated irl. we get denied the opportunity to adopt as well.

in a climate like this, are we SURE we want the stance on rewrites and headcanons in the silly cat books to be “if you portray trans characters having children, especially with a gay couple, youre a transphobic freak no matter what!” does it really matter? especially if its being done by a trans person handling the topic with nuance who has a lot of trans characters with varying perspectives?

obviously yes, remember that thats not the only way certain gay couples can have kids, remember that not every trans person is fully comfortable with it and keep that in mind, remember that surrogacy and adoption are also perfectly valid ways to give fan babies- but remember that there are OPTIONS. not that you need to condemn the idea of transgender parents in the first place unless they fit the very specific criteria of “proper transgender representation” and anything that dares deviate from that is proof the op is a transphobic monster (bonus points if theyre a trans creator bc i mostly see trans people getting shit for this and it kinda pisses me off. although idm if cis people do it either as long as theyre handling it with respect)

[r0zzk1ll]

"this man, is weird.. CRAZY weird.." "he was always very bright.."

[hauntingblue]

making a collection

making another collection with a threatening aura

[whispers-of-masser]

Dragon's Tongue

✧ Nebarra x human!LDB, ft. Xelzaz & Khash ✧ Fluff, minor angst; 1300+ words ♫ "You And I (Stripped)" - PVRIS ✒ Something short n sweet today, I'm feeling soft

Nebarra was loath to admit it to himself, and he'd die before ever saying it aloud, but the Rift really was beautiful. Nothing compared to Alinor, to be sure, but... all the gold reminded him of home. And when he passed by a small, isolated farm, he could almost see himself on its porch, see his brother leaning against the door.

The illusions were younger, happier versions of themselves. So much more innocent, faces bright with naivety, eyes shining with plans for the future.

And then he'd gone to war.

He'd lost... so much of himself, in the deserts of Hammerfell. They had scorched and burned him inside and out, slowly bleeding him dry with every comrade he saw fall. And all that, for what? For all the Altmer's supposed superiority, the campaign had failed on all fronts – Hammerfell's walls and people defied them, and Cyrodiil remained in power, weakened but still unbroken.

How could the Thalmor still strut about, arrogant to Aetherius and back, when they had failed so miserably? How could they look at the faces of the families whose children and lovers they'd sent to die and only tell them they'd "served their purpose"?

Nebarra couldn't.

He couldn't face them at all. Not even through pen and paper, leagues away from ever having to look them in the eyes, ever having to see the pain and loss in their gaze.

Where the Thalmor were heartless, he was a coward.

And he didn't know which was worse.

~~~

Night fell, and you called the group to halt, to make camp until dawn. Nebarra set up the tent as you argued with Xelzaz, trying to convince him that no, he shouldn't summon a flame atronach and then kill it for its fire salts, no matter how good it would make dinner taste. Khash merely looked on, muching on some clover she'd picked up somewhere.

At last though, you got Xelzaz to relent, though he asked you to gather some herbs in exchange, listing off the plants he wanted you to find.

"Ah... and take Nebarra with you."

The elf froze. Turned slowly towards the lizard. Demanded, "What? Why?"

"Two eyes are better than one," he shrugged, "and that much safer, as well. We don't know what's out there, and I'm pretty sure we passed a necromantic altar on our way here."

At that, you groaned, head rolling back like a teenager who'd just been told to do their chores. "Gods, not another one. Why do we always seem to run into those?"

"Luck of the Dragonborn? Anyway, off with you now – I have to get set up. Let's see, in whose pack did I leave my cooking pot...? Khash! Come help me with this!"

And just like that he walked off, leaving you and Nebarra alone by the campfire. A chuckle escaped you, and he glanced over to see you shaking your head. "I'm surprised he didn't tell us to hold hands, too, so we don't lose each other in the dark."

"Yeah, I'm not holding your hand," Nebarra snarked. And it was true. Absolutely true. Totally, one-hundred percent true.

"Oh wow, Nebs, that one almost hurt." Your soft laugh seemed to echo in his ears, his mind. "Come on, let's go – I don't suppose you heard any of the plants he wants?"

Blue and yellow mountain flowers, to restore and fortify. Purple for rejuvenation, and to give to Khash. Scaly pholiota for fiber and strengthening. Wild gourds and dragon's togue for flavour.

He snorted from behind his helm. "That would require paying attention to him."

"Should have known," you sighed. "Alright, listen up before I forget: blue, yellow, and purple mountain flowers, scaly pholiota, and dragon's tongue. And be careful with the purple mountain flowers, they're gifts for Khash. Oh, he also wants some wild gourds. Got it?"

"...Yeah, yeah. Let's just get going."

He definitely hadn't feigned ignorance just to hear your voice some more. Definitely not.

~~~

"Ah, back at last! Perfect," Xelzaz said, stirring something in a pot over the fire. "Now I can get the real meal started."

"Then what's this?" Nebarra demanded as Xelzaz handed him a bowl, in exchange for the plants the Altmer carried. Even through his gauntlets he could feel its warmth, and a rich, savory scent drifted up through the slits of his helmet.

"Something amazing, from the smell," you sighed, and Nebarra didn't have to look to know you were drooling.

"Just a little sometime to hold you over," the Argonian demurred, handing you a bowl as well. "Thought I'd experiment with some of the flora I've gathered thus far."

That gave Nebarra pause. "Wait – experiment? That's settled, I'm not eating this."

"If you don't want it–"

Your words were drowned out by Khash's eager shout of, "I'll eat it! I'll take your bowl!" She rushed over to him, red eyes trained on the food.

"Khash, you had your share," Xelzaz chided. "Any more and you won't have room for the rest of dinner."

"Yes, I will! I have room for anything you make."

"She's got a point," you laughed, and Nebarra slowly, wordlessly handed her the bowl.

"I'll go keep watch," he grumbled, turning away.

"Oh, don't be like that! Nebarra!" When he didn't respond, you sighed, calling after him, "Alright, go sulk! I'll make sure Xelzaz doesn't poison your share, though you kind of deserve it!"

His back still towards you, Nebarra raised his hand in a rude gesture, and your laughter rang through the night.

Some thirty minutes later, he heard footsteps approaching; he didn't need to turn to know it was you. Your tread was distinct from the others, weighted with determination and confidence, whereas Xelzaz's was soft and steady, and Khash's light and hesitant.

"Here. Eat." Despite the short words, your tone was gentle, and Nebarra looked over to see you holding a plate out towards him, laden with a slab of meat and wild berries to the side. "It's delicious, and unpoisoned."

"How would you know?" he sniffed, catching a whiff of the food in the process. It... did smell amazing. "Did you try it?"

"I did, actually. Stole some of your steak when Xelzaz wasn't looking. And since I'm still standing here pestering you, I guess that means it's clean."

Nebarra paused, eyes training on your face. Half of it was wreathed in shadow, only the gleam of your eyes visible; the other half was illuminated by the campfire, revealing the soft smile you wore.

You... had a nice smile.

And before he could stop himself, he mumbled, "You're not... pestering me."

Surprise flickered in your gaze – surprise, and something else. Something he told himself he didn't recognise, refused to recognise.

After a moment, you said softly, "That's... good to hear, then. Because I have something else for you, too." Reaching down with your free hand, you pulled something from your belt and held it out before him. "I saved one, 'cause it reminded me of you."

Nebarra stared. There, held gently between your fingers, was a dragon's tongue flower, petals open wide and colours vibrant in full bloom. "This... reminded you of me?"

"It's gold. Just like you."

"...You really do have trouble with your eyesight, don't you? These are orange."

"Eh, close enough." You shrugged, the smile never leaving your face.

Slowly, Nebarra reached out and, ignoring the plate of food, took the flower carefully, delicately from your grasp, cradling it in his palm. "...Am I supposed to say thank you?"

"You just did." As he raised a brow from the shadows of his helm, you set the plate on a nearby rock and tapped the gauntlet that held the flower. "You accepted it."

He couldn't deny it. "Think you got me all figured out then, huh?"

Something in your smile shifted, your gaze flickering. "No. Not yet, anyways. But... I think I'd like to." And with that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving him alone in the dark, stunned.

And that night, as he sat in the shadows of the campfire, he stared at the flower for a long, long time.

[savetheghost]

wanna be put in a room with craft stuff for 10 years

[michameinmicha]

Look i know its a rly dumb idea to try and set up a base in the middle of louisville buuuuuut i like being withing walking distance of things and i think it would be fun to try?

Now the question is... do i take my game where i have a nice base in muldraugh and try to move as much as i can over to lv or should i start a new game already there? Kinda wanna keep my things but also kinda wanna start new again...?

[casinoquartet]

i am SO TRIED of writing essays why can't they just let me write about block people

[magicdyke]

theoretically the idea of being a masculine woman is so awesome to me, but whenever i see anything posted by my family referring to me with "she," my vision develops chromatic aberration and i start hearing a really loud buzzing noise and a fog starts rolling in

[astro-inthestars]

HOW WE FEELIN OUT THERE TONIGHT?? HEHHEAHAHAH- YEAHHHHH I AM NOT FEELIN GOOD :) /lyr

[radiotorn]

having to restrain from saying anything when my dad dares to say that men get paid LESS than women. in what world. are you out of your fucking mind old man.

[spacebugarts]

I would like to make it known that I have no idea what I'm doing at any time ever, hope this helps <3

[butt-puncher]

I wish that I was more

[be-good-to-bugs]

AAAAH forever stress is going to kill me one day

[lesbeamofsunshine]

in a really fucked up way its absolutely fucking infuriating being like "whaa I have nothing to live for" while quite literally having something to live for

[yan-randomfandom]

HIIIIIIII I love your writing alot!!!! Soo, I wanna request something:3

Maybe a Yandere Stanford Pines x GN reader who only saw him as a close friend? They became friends when they were still in high-school up to this day! (Yes, reader did sort of wait 30 years for Ford and never forgot about him)

Maybe just Stanford obsessing over Reader romantically, and Reader just think him as the greatest best-friend ever!!

I LOVE ONE SIDED PINNING OKAY????

Yandere!Stanford Pines x GN!Reader

UM UH,,, IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ANON— and it's something I'm not even proud of 😭😭 made a mistake on starting your req, and now I got an entirely new idea in my head based on your concept 😭

context btw; reader doesn't know about weirdmaggedon or fake death or entire lore, they dont tell them anything uhhh idk anymore

You took the bus to Gravity Falls! Stanley reached out to you after decades of not having contact. It was a bit sudden, but there's no way you're going to ignore his call.

Stanley Pines was the first man you saw when the Mystery Shack's door opened. Wrinkly, exhausted widened eyes looked at you in silence. He looked unprepared... kind of crusty musty... and very unhygienic.

"You look disgusting! I'm gonna hug you anyway!" you beamed, pulling him in for a big hug. Unwillingly, a strong whiff of his scent hits your nose. "You stink too! You haven't changed a bit, Stanley."

"Glad to know ya missed me," he laughed, giving you an affectionate noogie.

When Stan finally let you go, you looked up to see Ford. He stood in front of you, speechless as he stared into your eyes.

"...Ford," you grinned, walking towards him. In curiosity, you placed your palms on both his cheeks. He seemed to relax with your touch. "You changed a lot."

Your eyes, while they've wrinkled, are as warm as the day he last saw them. He smiled back, his large hand covering one of yours. Your smile widened when you saw his fingers. "And you aged beautifully."

Poetic as always! A laugh bubbled up your throat as you wrapped your arms around him.

He quickly returned the gesture, burying his face into your neck. He missed this. He missed you.

Your warmth didn't change. Fascinating.

"I missed you, man! How come you're such a silver fox now? Good for you!"

"I still have no idea what a silver fox is," he chuckled, already longing for you the second you pulled away from him.

Ford merely stood there for a few moments before he grimaced. Damn it. He still likes you, doesn't he?

It's been more than thirty years already. He thought he would have moved on, especially after the whole weirdmaggedon thing. Why would Stanley ever get the idea of calling you back here??

All of you now sat at the table with you in between the Pines twins. Mabel wore an apron, sophisticatedly offering you tea. The sweetheart made the recipe herself!

"So, how have you been doing these days?" Ford asked, resting his cheek on his palm. Every passing second with you, he gets reminded more and more of why he used to like you.

You are, after all, the first and only person to not call him any sort of names because of his hands.

"Oh, I mean, I've been financially doing well, and it's been a bit difficult to settle down with a partner... but," you blushed. "I think I finally found the one."

Ford coughed out violently, pounding a fist against his chest. He really shouldn't be surprised. He really shouldn't! You're bound to have found someone!

Get a grip. Fourty. Years.

...He truly had missed out on this dimension for such a long time.

...

The sky is dark. Dipper told you about the roof spot at the shack, and now you're here, thinking about life.

"Dipper said you'd be here," a voice murmured. You looked up and saw Ford walking up to you. Chuckling, you offered him a non-alcoholic drink.

"How many days will you be staying here again?" Ford asked as he sat next to you, sparing a small space between.

"A week at most," you shrugged, kicking your legs at the edge. Ford simply stared at you.

"I guess it'll be forever before we see you again, huh?" he mumbled.

You turned to him with a smile. "Of course not. You guys are invited to my wedding."

... Wedding.

A small huff left your lips. "We're so old now. I still remember being in high school and grouping up with you and Stan when a trio was needed. Good times."

Ford continued staring at you.

"You guys were my best friends. Probably not now, I mean, been decades since we last talked. That reminds me, what made you call—"

Ford suddenly interrupted you with a hug.

"Woah, Fordsy, you miss me that much?" you laughed, hugging him back.

Don't call him that. His arms around you tightened.

You simply let him hug you.

It was such a long one.

And it only grew tighter by the second.

Like he never wanted to let you go again.

but his aim is getting better 🗣️

i love your idea so much btw, i too am a fan of one-sided pining.... the desperation yk.. I THINK I JUST SUCK AT WRITING FOR THAT WHAT 😟 (says the yandere blog)

[wasabidottie]

shitty movie | Jschlatt

a/n: okay okay so its literally been the longest time ever and ik nobody is dying to know why i havnt been posting so instead of a long-winded explanation here is a lil story about our favorite big man !! ive been liking the idea of like a new ish relationship where they dont really know where its going but they are both just happy to be there. idk. hope you guys enjoy :)

You didn’t intend to stay as long as you did. In fact, you’d been pretty adamant about not spending the night at Schlatt’s place. Not that you didn’t want to, but something about it felt too soon, too intimate. Even after the kiss and the banter, part of you wasn’t ready to cross that line just yet.

But then the beer flowed a little too easily, and Schlatt, despite his usual cocky persona, had suggested putting on a movie. “Something shitty,” he’d said with a sly grin, grabbing the remote and flipping through an endless list of B-movies until you settled on some absurd action flick from the 80s.

Now, the living room lights were dimmed, casting a soft glow over everything. Jambo had claimed the arm of the couch, curled up into a fluffball, while Soup lounged on the floor, too cool for company but not too far from you. Schlatt sat beside you, his arm draped lazily along the back of the couch, fingertips barely grazing your shoulder. The action movie blared in the background, all explosions and cheesy one-liners, but your attention kept drifting back to him—the way he’d glance at you every few minutes, the way his body seemed relaxed, like he’d finally let his guard down.

“Why do these guys always yell when they’re about to punch someone?” you asked, your voice laced with amusement as the hero on-screen let out an overly dramatic war cry.

Schlatt snorted, taking a swig of his beer. “Because they have to let you know how tough they are. It’s a requirement. Didn’t you know?”

You rolled your eyes. “Right, because real tough guys totally yell before every punch.”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he replied, grinning at you. “I bet if I yelled loud enough, I could scare off any fucker who tried to mess with you”

You shot him a look. “I think you already do that.”

He chuckled, a deep sound that rumbled from his chest. “Yeah, well, maybe I should tone it down. Don’t wanna scare you off.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, noting the almost shy way he said it. For all his bluster, Schlatt had a soft spot underneath that tough exterior, and the more time you spent with him, the more you realized how much he tried to hide it.

“You’re not scaring me off,” you said softly, leaning into him just a little. “I think I’m stuck with you now, remember?”

He grinned, his usual bravado returning as he nudged your shoulder. “Damn right you are.”

As the movie continued, the room grew quieter, and the conversation lulled into comfortable silence. Schlatt stretched, his arm falling more naturally around your shoulders now, pulling you in a little closer. You didn’t resist—didn’t even think to. It felt right, the two of you just sitting there, the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

And then, slowly but surely, the exhaustion from the long day began to catch up with you. You hadn’t realized how tired you were until your eyelids started feeling heavy, the dialogue of the movie turning into background noise, fading into the distance.

You told yourself you’d just rest your eyes for a minute. Just a minute.

Schlatt noticed almost immediately when your head dipped against his shoulder, your body relaxing against his as your breathing evened out. He stiffened at first, unsure of what to do with the sudden proximity. You had said you weren’t staying the night, and he didn’t want to cross any boundaries, but now here you were, practically nestled into him, your face pressed into the crook of his neck.

He glanced down at you, a mixture of amusement and tenderness flickering across his face. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “Tough girl, my ass.”

Part of him wanted to wake you up, remind you that you had said you weren’t going to stay. But the other part— the bigger part—was secretly thrilled that you had fallen asleep like this, completely at ease with him.

With a quiet sigh, Schlatt shifted his position slightly, trying to make both of you more comfortable without waking you. He reached for the remote, turning down the volume of the movie, then grabbed the blanket draped over the back of the couch. Carefully, he tucked it around you, his movements awkward and hesitant, as though he wasn’t quite sure how to handle this kind of tenderness.

As he settled back against the couch, his eyes drifted over to the TV, but his mind was elsewhere. He stared at the screen, but all he could think about was you—how peaceful you looked when you weren’t trying to keep up with his banter, how natural it felt to have you this close.

And, as much as he hated to admit it, how good it felt.

For a guy like Schlatt, emotions were messy and complicated, things to be shoved aside in favor of practicalities. But with you, it was different. He’d never felt this way about anyone before—this strange combination of protectiveness, admiration, and, if he was being honest with himself, something dangerously close to affection.

He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “I’m in deep, huh?”

Soup meowed from his spot on the floor, blinking lazily at Schlatt before stretching out his paws.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Schlatt muttered, glancing down at you again. “I’m fucked.”

You stirred slightly in your sleep, nuzzling closer to him, and Schlatt’s heart did a weird little flip in his chest. He wasn’t used to this—being soft, being vulnerable. But with you? Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

Carefully, he rested his hand on your arm, his thumb brushing over your skin in a gentle, almost absent-minded gesture. He didn’t want to admit it, but he liked having you here. More than liked it. He wasn’t quite sure what that meant yet, but for now, he was content to just enjoy the moment.

Minutes passed, the movie still playing in the background, but Schlatt hardly paid attention. Instead, he found himself watching you—watching the way your chest rose and fell with each breath, the way your lips parted slightly in sleep, the way your hair fell against his shoulder.

“Cute when you’re quiet, you know that?” he murmured, a soft smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to you or to himself at this point, but it didn’t matter. You were here, in his arms, and that was enough.

Eventually, his own eyes began to droop, the combination of warmth and exhaustion lulling him into a drowsy haze. He fought it for as long as he could, but eventually, sleep overtook him too.

The next morning, the sun peeked through the blinds, casting a soft glow over the room. You blinked awake, disoriented for a moment as you realized where you were—curled up on Schlatt’s couch, your head still resting on his shoulder.

And he? He was still asleep, his face relaxed and peaceful in a way you’d never seen before. His arm was still wrapped loosely around you, holding you close as if even in sleep, he didn’t want to let go.

You smiled to yourself, feeling a strange sense of warmth settle in your chest. This wasn’t what you’d planned, but as you watched him sleep, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it.

Not one bit.