#idk what this is but i kinda wanna write it

[starreyblueberry]

I know there used to be a huge thing about Timmy being a good trans character and tbh I agree!! Not canon of course cause I doubt butch Hartman would ever wanna write a character that’s slightly not conventional, but Timmy Turner being trans (and I’m just repeating what millions have said before) makes so much sense and is actually in line for his character? his million insecurities, his parents always wishing they had a girl, him being one of the only guys in touch with his fem and masc side, Timmy being voiced by a girl, etc. There are so many episodes where he also actively pushes "girly" thing away, which i know that's just a common 2000s trope to do for young boys, but it also fits into the head canon so well!! Idk maybe I'm self-projecting as well but Timmy being a trans kid kinda warms my heart a bit, it adds a new depth to his whole character, his backstory, his family, who he is and why he wants to always feel included. Like I said I think I'm just self-projecting, but being trans when your a kid is rough, especially when you know that you're just kinda different and you don't exactly know how. Its just also a huge fuck you to Butch Hartman, who prob would have HATED having his main character be trans in anyway (coded or not). It just feels fitting with Timmy's character to be trans (rather it be MTF or FTM or NB) cause of the fact that so many episodes are just him being aware of himself, hell being more aware then other kids! Also its funny to think that he just wished up he was always a boy one day and its just never talked about again ever with anyone

[bloggingboutburgers]

I'm here to bonce back on the "non tagging x reader content" when... Shippers do the EXACT same thing and get no flacks in returns?

ESPECIALLY mlm ones?

I mean why even bother? You either drool over those two men kissing or you're just a raging homophobe! Simple as that ! 😌 😇

You have no idea of the numbers of shipper accounts i had to block because they posted content for that ship that i hate without tagging it as shipping. And nobody bats an eye, everyone is cool with that because everyone ASSUMES you're into this.

And then they say shits like "Wow x reader is such a HATE CRIME am I right?" And everyone's agreed with them and you can't say shit in response because all the fandom back them up. (True story, i wish i made that one up)

And as a sex/romance repulsed aroace woman who's only comfortable with x reader fanfics to safely explore those complicated feeling the fuck am I supposed to do? I would get gutted on the street by the entire fandom.

And before everyone slash my throat : everyone should tag their content. No matter what it is. Shipping, x reader, whatever...

But why everyone is so comfortable shitting on the x reader community while the shippers get to do everything they want without any pushback????

Like idk how to say it, all the goods the x reader community gave me. Its the only community who accepted me in ANY fandoms i have been as an aroace woman, all the rest of the fandoms bullied me and tried to chase me away because i """"shipped myself""""" with male characters i saw as aroace coded too. The x reader community welcomed me and helped me carve my own space while the rest gave me fucking slack because I saw those characters as aroace instead of gay. (Because it is apparently the only valid queer interprétation ever)

Like fuck man...

This community is the only one who accepted to listen to me rambling about how those character were aroace coded and cheered for me writing about them while i was bullied off my first account because i did not agree with the popular ship.

I met more aroace people writing nsfw/romantic fics (YES I TAG THEM ALL) about those characters than i ever met in my entire life. HELL, each and every single Friend I made on this site came to me to thank me for my writing and they ALL turned out to be sex/romance repulsed aroace people.

TLDR : why is it always the x reader community that get flacked for doing something the shippers do since the very begining of fandoms without any repercussion?

Its getting old.

Sincerely an aroace sex/romance woman that will never let go of her x reader fanfics.

...OK ima be honest on that one

Personally I don't dig shipping OR xreader, I kinda put them in a "nope don't wanna read it" same bag

So yeah I don't get why people wouldn't see them on a same scale of value.

Literally people like different things and some would rather read different things and some wouldn't and everything's fine let's seriously just tag stuff to make our life easier and stop judging each other.

The absolute state of all of this. Jeeeeesus. That's part of why I don't even bother in fanfiction spaces anymore. That and the fac there's hardly ever anything that'd interest me anyway, I guess.

[evilkaeya]

meursault girlies but it's a modern au and they're paranormal investigators

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt2 to this post

'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.

It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.

Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'

'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'

Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.

'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'

'What happened?'

He sighs. 'It's complicated.'

'Wanna tell me about it?'

The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.

But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.

He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.

'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.

Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.

'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'

'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.

Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.

'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.

'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'

'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'

She nods. 'Okay.'

For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.

'Is it Eddie?'

Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.

'Wha- what?'

'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'

'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.

Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'

Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'

'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'

'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'

Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'

To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.

'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'

'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'

'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'

'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.

Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)

[opens-up-4-nobody]

:-P

[marragurl]

Saxaphone player Gallagher has not left my mind since the jazz night art dropped AND THEN Robin saying Halovian’s innately have good voices and Sunday used to hum lullabies to her as kids happened in the 2.2 special program, and I’m sure you guys can see where my unfortunate Galladay heart is going with this.

Whoever decided to make this art, I love you. I hope your pillow is cool every night, you’re never stuck in traffic, and your water is refreshing with every sip.

Also the art of Sunday with the White Gentlemen drink in the S.P.A.R.K.L.E jazz night event has also spiraled into me delusionally thinking that’s his go to drink. Which is hilarious since Robin has hinted before that he seems to have a massive sweet tooth in her letters.

(Sunday how do you even make holding a drink menacing, Sunday please get some therapy-)

So imagine this:

Pre 2.0 Galladay, where they’re both wary and suspicious of each other but didn’t do anything outright. Sunday slowly began to visit Gallagher’s bar whenever he had time to observe the Hound, initially on the down low just to get a sense of what he was working with and what to keep an eye on. He always gravitated to that one corner booth that every bar had with the most privacy, and just stalked there for a few hours before leaving. (Smol menacing birb in a tree vibes)

Gallagher obviously knew that Sunday was doing this (even though everyone else seemed to somehow completely miss him, Gallagher wouldn’t be surprised if Sunday was doing some weird Harmony mind tricks), and after the first few “stakeouts,” he bit the bullet and actually approached the table to engage with Sunday, on the off chance this was some weird “test of loyalty” by the Halovian to see if the Hound would swallow his pride to serve his so-called masters.

Nothing terrible happened, but he remained passive-aggressively polite when serving him, and Sunday remained passive-aggressively cool-headed in response. There was some snark of what dear “sweet-toothed” Sunday would want at a bar, and an icy reply of “aren’t you the master drink smith? Why don’t you show me those skills you boasted about?” which led to Gallagher being petty and giving Sunday the White Gentlemen drink, both for the story behind it being such a metaphor for Sunday, and because it was on the more bitter side of alcoholic drinks.

Sunday wasn’t too against the drink; it wasn’t something he would have ordered if it had been his choice, but it wasn’t a bad drink by any means. He couldn’t help but continue to drink it even after Gallagher left his little hidey booth to go back to the main bar, but he’d never stoop so low as to complement the Hound. Of course, he never ordered anything else from then on, only White Gentleman. In fact, over time it seemed to slowly get better, the flavors grew on him, and he couldn't help but look forward to it during difficult nights in the Dreamscape.

If Gallagher tried to needle him into a different drink, Sunday just bit back a “oh? Admitting defeat? I thought this was your best drink for me?” with a little smirk while Gallagher had to use every bit of self-control to not punch him in the face.

As time went on, the bar slowly became a place Sunday frequented to not quite relax, but to get away from the hustle and bustle of Penacony and his duties as one of its main faces. The stresses slowly started piling up, especially with the Charmony fast approaching in a few months and all that came with it.

Gallagher didn’t seem to loosen up regarding his attitude with Sunday, but he did get better at shoving down the visceral hatred he had for everything to do with The Family and Sunday as time went on. He didn’t get soft with Sunday per se, but he definitely kept an eye out for him, and definitely knew when to cut off his drinks on days where it seemed that Sunday wasn’t all that there for their usual veiled comments towards one another when he went to serve him his drink.

It started small, with Sunday staying later and later until sometimes he was the last one to leave the bar to return to reality. Gallagher wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, still wasn’t quite sure this wasn’t some weird long-term test Sunday was devising, especially since he still seemed to be the same ruthless Family member, the same Head of the Oak Family, when Gallagher was working as a Bloodhound outside the bar. For some reason though, within the enclosed space of this strange sanctuary, it was almost peaceful between the two.

One night, there was something wrong when Sunday entered the bar during Gallagher’s shift. He saw a bit of a crowd near the small stage that was within eyesight of his little hidey booth, it seemed some of the musicians of the live band were arguing? He watched as Gallagher came over, seemed to try to speak with the group before honing in on one of the musicians who had been making the most noise and seemed to be about to get physical with the rest. Sunday watched as Gallagher picked up the musician by the scruff of their suit with one hand and carried them towards the doors and lightly tossed them out.

(It was the first time Sunday had actually seen Gallagher perform anything resembling the actual duty of a Bloodhound. It only hit him that he’d only ever seen the other when giving reports, orders, or at the bar. Why was this so shocking to him, he’d seen the man’s arms before, hard not to with his slovenly dress and messy clothing style, as if he couldn’t bother to hide away his imperfections from the world, not like Sunday who refused to be seen by the world, to dare to show one thing off about himself despite his countless failings- he’s getting far too distracted by one meager showing of strength, focus Sunday)

There had always been a live music segment. Sunday was curious to see what would happen with the band missing a member, but was distracted by Gallagher placing his usual White Gentlemen in front of him before heading back to the musicians without a single word to him. Gallagher took a moment to speak with the rest of the band, who seemed to be coming out of their shock and took on worried looks. Sunday could only watch in muted shock as Gallagher went behind the bar and came back with a case, opening it to reveal a saxophone. He then went on stage with the rest of the group, positioned himself further to the side and in the back amongst the shadows within Sunday’s line of sight, and played with the band for the rest of the night.

Sunday couldn’t look away.

He was frozen as he watched Gallagher seamlessly transition from song to song, taking only small breaks to continue serving the other patrons before heading back in. Sunday only remembered about his own drink when his gloves began to get wet from the ice melting into condensation on his glass.

Something felt off within Sunday, and for the first time since Robin’s debut, he couldn't help humming to the music of the band, music that wasn’t of his own sister’s making. He couldn’t help but remember those little concerts the two would have, taking care of his little sister, his only world. He would do anything to keep the Harmony, to keep their family going. When was the last time they truly spent time together? Before he became the Head of the Oak Family? Before he couldn't recognize his own smile?

He was so lost in his thoughts, in memories he thought he buried, that he didn’t realize that it was once again closing time, and he was once again the last one left. He only snapped out of it when Gallagher came by to grab his empty glass, only quirking a questioning brow at him before heading back to the bar.

Gallagher had been keeping a quiet eye on the Halovian that night from the back of the band, in the shadows he felt the most comfort in when in the Dreamscape of Penacony. He had watched Sunday’s eyes glaze over, and the only reason he hadn’t felt offended by the seeming disinterest was the look in the other man’s eyes reminding him of his own when he looked in the mirror. The same look of shame, regret, loss, longing, of the wishes to regain everything he had lost. The same look he strove to hide under every bit of the facade he had crafted of this new self, but came back all too often with every reference of the Family found within his prison in the Dreamscape.

Maybe it was the shared nostalgia within his own heart, that little bit of his true self that he thought died when the Family tore out everything that made him who he was, that made him return behind the bar and begin making Sunday another White Gentlemen, giving Sunday a small nod to beckon him over. He wasn’t expecting anything from it, and he masked his own surprise when Sunday actually left his little shelter to come and take a seat in front of him at the bar. Even while out of it, Gallagher made note of the quiet confidence the other still carried himself. Nothing seemed wrong to anyone else looking at him, only for the lost look in his eyes.

The first time in the many months that they’ve been skirting around each other, and finally they seemed to be face to face.

It was quiet as Gallagher made Sunday his usual drink, a drink he had been slowly changing over the months to be sweeter and sweeter that Sunday never quite seemed to notice, or if he did, he never said anything, only seeming to savor it more each subsequent night. Maybe not even Gallagher noticed his own changes to the drink, subtle as they were.

It was quiet as Sunday took the finished drink, and it was quiet as his eyes slid over the bartop to see the saxophone case laying open with the instrument inside. It was quiet as Gallagher followed his eyes, as he came out from behind the bartop to take the saxophone out and take a seat in a chair only one seat down from Sunday’s. It was quiet as Gallagher began to play to his audience of one.

It was quiet as Sunday quietly hummed along.

It was quiet as they both knew that it would not last.

OK yea so this was all because I heard ‘La vie en rose’ at the end of the Jazz night event and went “Damn I wish that’s Gallagher playing on his Sax” and then we spiraled.

Uh. Idk what it is with me having a small ship moment which then spirals into a full blown writing session. My mind blanked out and as I came to I find out that I made a whole ass little one shot over here then completely forgot about it WHOOPS

So yea, hope my fellow Galladay enjoyers… enjoyed! I think I’ve slowly begun to crave… not domestic or fluff per se from these two, but after every AO3 fic being super dark between them (which I get! They are the toxic yaoi kings of Penacony as of writing this, no one is denying that!) I think I want to see them be explored in a more melancholic sense. Not quite the “forbidden” love angle, but in the “damn we kinda have some parallels, and maybe in another life we could have gotten along but there’s too much baggage and anger, both historically and currently to really even try anything”

I have this feeling this may not be the last time I write about these two… is Galladay going to be the ship that gets me to actually use my AO3 account?

[wikiangela]

several sentence sunday

so this is another fic I started on my vacation (I started three, and had one idea I haven't started yet lol - and one is already posted) - also, the two weeks here might change bc I'm struggling with the timeline (which doesn't matter but also it does lol) but I'll figure it out haha

(I'm still writing all my other wips btw, and gonna get to all the asks, but the writing beans have been gone lately, and I've been too exhausted lol - and my brain is so all over the place with my wips, idk what I wanna get to more)

___

Evan knows he’s in love with Tommy about two weeks into their relationship.

(...)

They still barely know each other, but Evan knows. He can’t explain why, can’t explain how, he just knows. Tommy Kinard is it for him.

The moment he realizes it with utmost clarity is nothing special, really. He just spent the night at Tommy’s – not the first one, but it’s still new enough to fill him with nervous, giddy excitement, butterflies swirling in his stomach, which he hasn’t felt in years before Tommy. Everything about Tommy makes him feel like this. Tommy’s eye-crinkling, nose-scrunching adorable smile; Tommy’s eyes, always so fond when he looks at him; Tommy’s lips that taste so amazing Buck never wants to stop kissing him; Tommy’s big, big hands that feels so good in Buck’s, those strong arms and broad shoulders… – just everything about Tommy. At first Buck thought it’s the newness of this, of Tommy, of knowing about his bisexuality. But he’s also gotten so comfortable with Tommy in such a short time, and it doesn't even really feel new anymore, he knows it must be just him, must be Tommy making him feel like a giddy teen with a crush. Except the way this feels… Buck’s a grown man with tons of experience, and he knows how infatuation feels, how a simple crush and attraction feels, how real love feels. And he knows, deep down in his core, in his soul, in his heart, that this is real, that this is definitely more than a crush. This is what love feels like.

___

no pressure tags (lmk if you wanna be added or removed):

@dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @ladydorian05 @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @rainbow-nerdss @pirrusstuff @bucks-daddy-issues @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @diazheartsbuckley @giddyupbuck @thewolvesof1998 @underwaterninja13 @your-catfish-friend @kinard-buckley @evansboyfriend @beyourownanchor6 @weewootruck @kirkaut @jewishbuckley @loveyouanyway @daffi-990 @lonelychicago @reformedplayerbibuck @spotsandsocks @bucked-it-up @theotherbuckley @drcloyd @bidisasterevankinard @tizniz @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @girlwonder-writes @perfectlysunny02 @dadbodbuck

[nicomoon69]

spider Bernard how I miss you...

I am so sorry for the lack of spider Bernard 😔😔 the brain worms led me to other places

please accept this doodle page as compensation until I figure out what to do next

[gemharvest]

RGB idea GF wiping the floor with BF and Pico in Uno even if they team up against her (she's eating the cards)

"Uno!"

"Jesus Christ, Gee, this is the third game in a row. There's no way you're that lucky." Pico gestured to the girl, holding nine cards in his hand.

"You're just a sore loser." Girlfriend said with a small laugh. "Besides, it's not my fault Biff keeps hitting you with draw fours."

Upon being called out, Boyfriend just gave a toothy smile and shrugged. Pico stared daggers at him; at the both of them.

"It's just starting to feel suspicious, that's all." The ginger grumbled, shaking his head.

"Ska be d'bop."

"Don't you start too-"

A few more moves, and Girlfriend placed down her last card. The game officially over, Boyfriend took the cards to reshuffle for a new one. He hesitated for a moment, then looked at the stack more carefully.

"Ba bo..?" Pico looked over at the cards as well, then furrowed his brows.

"Yeah, I swear the stack keeps getting smaller each game. We're not losing cards, are we?"

Girlfriend felt a bit anxious at the boys' observation, though was able to hold a perfect poker face.

Truth be told, she wasn't that good, or even lucky, at Uno.

What gave her that winning streak? Well, her boys would get distracted easily; staring into their cards with a bit too much focus or giving their phones a quick check when it wasn't their turn. In these brief moments, she would slip a card into her mouth and eat it.

Probably not the smartest idea; though much like Boyfriend, she wasn't really known for them. It was only a couple cards a game, and neither boy paid enough attention to the others' card counts to even notice. As long as she could get away with it, she'd do it.

"It doesn't look that small? Maybe we misplaced a few cards last time we played."

Pico raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't seem to have any desire to argue.

"Maybe, I guess I'll have to keep an eye out the next time I clean."

Nice, they're still none the wiser.

Boyfriend nodded at the pair, before splitting the deck to shuffle. After a few passes, he set the deck face-down, smiling at his work; the boy probably enjoyed shuffling the deck more than actually playing the game.

Cards were dealt, and a new game began. Pico seemed to be putting an effort into paying more attention, so Girlfriend had to go quite a few turns without pulling her trick.

Eventually, his eyes turned to his own cards. Girlfriend waited a moment, making sure he was truly focused while Boyfriend agonized over what card to play himself, before carefully slipping one of her cards out and into her mouth.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Girlfriend froze, card stuck halfway in her mouth. Beside her, Pico's head was still in his cards, though his eyes were raised and staring at her.

Slowly, he lowered his cards and his stare turned into an incredulous look.

"Have you been eating your cards? Oh my god?"

Girlfriend took the card out of her mouth, now crumpled and slightly damp, and held it with the rest of her deck casually; as if she hadn't just been caught.

"Whaaaat, no... Why would I do that?" She spoke, voice feigning innocence. Pico huffed at the lie.

"Bullshit. I can't believe you're trying to pretend you didn't just get caught." Pico scolded, voice more amused than angry. "How in the hell did you even come to the conclusion that that was how you should win."

"Well... It's not like you guys had noticed cards going missing until now."

Boyfriend, Who had been staring silently up until then, suddenly burst out into a fit of musical laughter. Pico and Girlfriend followed suit, not being able to suppress chuckles at how ridiculous the situation was.

While the laughing fit was probably only a few seconds, it felt several minutes long to the trio. Pico was the first to speak after, voice still cracking slightly from the laughter.

"Oh, you are definitely banned from Uno for a while. You also owe me a new deck." He wiped a tear from his eye, still grinning as he spoke.

"Awww come on, I promise I'll stop doing it." Girlfriend pouted, giving puppy dog eyes to Pico. "The deck thing is fair though, I'll bring it the next time I'm over."

"Beebop ska doh??"

"Yeah, I'm not budging on the ban. You'll have to deal with the consequences of your actions, sweetheart." He shook his head gently while he spoke.

Girlfriend stuck her tongue out at him, playful yet clearly not happy with the decision.

"Wow, you're so mean to me over just a few cards."

[celestie0]

im really sorry w the delay on kickoff u guys :(( this is the longest break i've had between chapters n i feel so bad ab it but honestlyyy i'm just. idk. i got really insecure w my writing all of a sudden out of nowhere n it's like i'm fighting an uphill battle trying to write this chapter SDKFHSDJKF but. i'm working on it here n there :''') SORRY IVE GOT ANXIETY MY MIND IS A PRISON but i'd reaallyyy like to get it out next week

anyways ty guys sm for patiently waiting n continuing to engage w the story even though it's been so long w an update 😭😭 u guys r too sweet to me

[cheemken]

Some Vertin thoughts I have, but do you ever think she and Matilda had this talk after seeing each other again?

I always imagine Vertin just coming up to her and hugging her, and Matilda being so flustered tried to push her away until she feels Vertin shaking like a leaf. Vertin's trying so hard to talk to her, saying she was so glad, so so glad Matilda backed out during the breakaway plan, cause she can't handle the thought of losing Matilda that night too

I think there's so much unexplored potential for these two. Like yeah, Sonetto regretted letting Vertin and the others go that night, but do you think it haunts Matilda too? That maybe she could've tried to talk them out of it, maybe then she and Vertin would still have their friends around

[rubra-wav]

Bro pls if I start brainrot level simping for Pentious too, that would be such a funny pipeline 💀

[b4kuch1n]

blood loss edition

[wheres-my-pencil]

(read more for a short pseudo-fic?? that i wrote kinda by accident?? it's kinda shit and doesn't have anything about stanley and it's mostly just describing a half baked idea but have it if you want. also this has definitely been done before but whatever)

au where the narrator, unbeknownst to stanley, finds out that he can be physically affectionate in a form that stanley can't see or feel.

after countless careful testing of stanley's reactions to confirm this, he starts to casually sort of. walk side by side to him and brush their hands together.

after a few hundred resets, he's at a point where he constantly holds hands (phases them through each other) with stanley as he yammers on as usual. sometimes he floats around him in circles and studies the folds in his clothes and the way stanley moves, still blabbering about, until, carefully, he leans reeeal close to stanley's face. he takes in every wrinkle and dimple, every reflection across his eyes, and watches the way his character model's hair sways a little as he walks, still pretending to have some sort of strong opinion about whatever he's talking about. once again, he starts to do this regularly.

when stanley happens to look at something that lines up their eyes to seem like eye contact, the narrator gets all freaked out and goes strangely quiet. he makes up some excuse (let's see here.. the next door is .. hmm .. .. (the first time it happened he actually did get them both lost)), and the next few times it happens, he starts rambling faster, trips over his words, and flusters himself in his own monologue.

after another few hundred resets he calms down and gets used to the fake-outs and gradually forgets it was ever even a worry.

during one reset in this peaceful phase, the narrator hugs him from behind, wraps his arms over his shoulders and around his chest, and sighs somewhat like a dog as he rests the underside of his chin on stanley's shoulder.

of course, sighs of yearning and disappointment sound similar enough that this one fit nicely for his current monologue. in fact, he starts getting so caught up with sarcastically praising stanley for staying in the employee lounge for more than two whole minutes, that as he leans into his face, yawning mid-sentence from the pseudo-warmth of stanley's neck and left cheek, he doesn't even notice that stanley has not only stayed in the same room, but hasn't moved an inch for the past five minutes.

worse yet, the narrator only finally realized when he happened to look up admiringly again, and nearly flew across the room at the sheer intensity of stanley's eyes staring dead into his own. he paused his berating. he didn't even have an excuse prepared, and he wouldn't need one, considering how stanley's first movement after the narrator's nearly endless stream of complaining was to turn to look at him where he hovered slightly above the floor, somewhat disheveled and panicked.

that's all i got for now fhdwds

[elendsessor]

i may be crucified for this opinion but

one of the many reasons i think dds deserves a remake is just how little impact some of the characters have and it’s really fucking sad. unless they’re party members or antagonistic forces they don’t get nearly as much screen time as they deserve and i think that hurts them as characters???

jinana and lupa especially. i get the setting of the first game is a battle royale that turned into a cannibal battle royale so of course not everyone could live but they kinda didn’t get as much screen time as they deserved. i mean think about it they kinda just exist to introduce their tribe, interact with the embryon for a bit, disappear, reappear once or twice, then next time you see them they’ve succumbed to hunger, you beat the shit out of them, and they end up dying. what little they are given does make you like them don’t get me wrong but a lot of that rides on dialogue which, as someone who loves seeing people experience certain plot stuff of games i enjoy, i kinda noticed that it was a really mixed result. it’s either “oh no anyways” with maybe the player getting a little melancholic when they get brought up again or the player doesn’t care. considering how important their struggles and mini arcs are that’s not good??? the fact that they exist solely to develop argilla and gale is a shame since unless you like the exchanges they have their deaths don’t have that big of an impact. they do get mentions and all that in 2 yet it kinda just. makes me question it more from the standpoint of what could’ve been done with them or the giant emotional aftermath that should’ve happened. this isn’t to say they can’t die or whatever but considering the interesting conflicts dds introduces and how it already struggled to explore it as much as it could’ve, jinana and lupa really did have the potential to help remedy some of those issues.

and then there’s fred aka the smokey of dds. i still don’t know why he exists except to explain why lupa somewhat knows what a child is and to introduce the existence of tiny humans to the gang. i’m sorry i straight up forget he was a character at points.

qds fixed a lot of this yes yet i still think it’s important to point out on a game standpoint, since most people who play dds don’t end up reading qds, and i really don’t think actual important contextual stuff or major aspects of a game’s themes should be exclusive to books. it’s not as bad as something like fnaf or other mascot horrors—that shit was over a decade later—but it is a major writing issue and i don’t think the fact that the original lead writer got sick and had to leave means there wasn’t a writing decline. you can tell there was stuff that was going to be built upon only to be abandoned or underdeveloped.

it’s extra sad because this is straight up one of the best instances of world-building the series has ever had, and the whole cannibalistic character drama mixed with spiritual and buddhist + hindu themes is something so inherently interesting while also being in some ways taboo??? there’s not a lot of games out there at least not made by indie developers that get that risky since it’s not marketable, and something like that is next to nonexistent now in the mainstream market. we fuckin need games like the dds duology that challenge the status quo and goddammit if it got expanded upon and had more development for side characters that would be actually perfect.

[homicidal-slvt]

Have you guys ever created a hot character in your head? Like an OC that is just so beyond sexy. But like- you have no idea what to do with them. They just live in your brain.