#as it currently exists buck is the only answer

[fiona-fififi]

could you explain to me why you think bucktommy forever would be narratively satisfying but there's no possibility of them introducing a love interest for eddie that would be satisfying? i don't understand

I DON'T think bucktommy would be narratively satisfying.

I DO think there is more potential in the current narrative structure for them to make bucktommy endgame work in a reasonably narratively satisfying way (IF Eddie's story wasn't a factor, which it is).

I also don't necessarily think it would be impossible for them to bring in someone for Eddie if I'm imagining they have all the time in the world to make that work. But the reality of the current narrative is that I don't think they have all the time in the world. And as talented as these writers are, I don't see any way they could introduce someone entirely new, with no connection to the current narrative, and make me buy that person as Eddie's endgame. There just isn't time. A couple of years ago, I would have said that I thought Eddie could have an interesting and satisfying ending to his story if he learned that he didn't need romantic fulfillment to be happy. Since then, however, they've really doubled down on Eddie's loneliness and desire for a romantic partner AND they went for the queer Buck storyline. When you add to that all of Eddie's history with Buck and the way he's welcomed Buck into his life and embraced him as a partner both in his own life and in Christopher's, I don't see any way for them to disentangle that story and introduce someone else (unless it was Tommy, maybe, but nobody's going to want to hear that).

It would just take SO much work and time that I'm not sure they have because it would take several seasons, I think, for it to really reach any level of satisfying.

The difference with bucktommy is simply that it would take very slightly less work (though still a TON of work) for a few reasons.

First, Buck is just Buck. With Eddie, there's also the Christopher of it all to contend with, which adds a complicating layer that extends the work that needs to be done in Eddie's story in a way that doesn't exist for Buck's story (as important as Christopher is for Buck, it's very different from what would need to happen for Eddie who is literally Christopher's parent). So Buck's story has fewer complications to contend with, especially since they've already gotten it off the ground with Buck's queer awakening and introducing his relationship with Tommy already at this point in canon. So there would literally just be less time involved.

Beyond that, Tommy is already an established character in universe. They don't need to do quite as much work to help us get to know him, because we already do, even if only peripherally. But he is established as significant to the stories of other characters beyond Buck. He had a role to play in Chimney's, Hen's, and Bobby's (and hell, even Eddie's!) stories long before he ever became significant to Buck's. So, developing his place among the team and their extended family is not nearly as complicated as it would be with someone entirely new—and even someone from Eddie's past wouldn't have the history with the team, so still, more complications there.

So, yes, I think bucktommy has more potential in the current narrative structure (if—and ONLY if—completely divorced from Eddie's storyline, which it can never be).

But not only do I not actually think either could be a satisfying ending for either Buck or Eddie in the current narrative, there actually isn't anything to suggest that the show is doing the work it needs to to make that potential a reality, either. Because they are not separating out Eddie and Buck (frankly, they're entwining them further). And they aren't even doing any work to flesh out Tommy’s character. I know fandom has grown really attached to him, but the reality is that the character is currently just being used as a pawn to move Buck's story forward. Tommy has a past with the 118 that creates a lot of potential, but that potential is not being used. The character is, frankly, pretty flat at the current moment. They haven't even tried to bring him back into the 118 fold—the only people he's really interacted with since his reintroduction are Eddie and Buck, when there has been plenty of opportunity to fold him back into the team in ways that would at least have him vaguely interacting with the others (like, I don't know, Chimney actually inviting him to the wedding or Hen even acknowledging him at the bachelor party). Their relationship is cute and sweet, but there's nothing that indicates it's any deeper than any of the other relationships Buck has had thus far, and they are actively juxtaposing the bucktommy relationship with the buddie relationship in a way that makes very clear just how surface level that relationship really is when compared to the depth of Buck and Eddie's relationship with one another.

So, no, I don't think bucktommy are going to be endgame, nor do I have any interest in them being endgame. But I recognize that there is currently—literally, in the canon narrative—more potential for bucktommy to work if the show really wanted to make it happen and put in the work, mostly because of Tommy’s history with the rest of the 118.

On Eddie's end, there is no current canon potential. There's no current love interest they could turn around (especially because Edy is a shit human being and people would riot if they actually made Marisol Eddie's endgame). There's no past love interest they could bring back that wouldn't somehow have to be worked into the rest of the team. There's the additional complication of the Christopher of it all and how much that changes where Eddie's story can go and how quickly it can be developed.

It's quite literally just the difference in time. If Buck's relationship with Eddie wasn't a factor, I think they could do it in two seasons for bucktommy. For Eddie and this currently non-existent love interest, I think it'd take a good three or more, and even then, I think it would have to be someone they introduce as a part of the team (Lucy? Ravi? Tommy?) because anyone separate wouldn't have any room to develop sufficiently.

But the reality is that, frankly, the ONLY narratively satisfying ending for Eddie and Buck is one another. Any other option would require dismantling so much beautiful storytelling that I cannot see how it would ever be worth it.

[lemotmo]

😂😂😂

Q. You all keep screaming Buddie Canon. You're even running to the 911 socials and screaming it. Do you actually not know what canon means? You all do understand that the only Buck relationship that currently exists within the ACTUAL canon text of the show is BuckTommy? Canon means actually confirmed on screen. Not in fandom. Not online. Actually acknowledged as fact within the text. Just thought you might find this helpful.

A. I'm very aware of what canon means, thank you very much. I'm also very aware of what context, subtext, and story building is as well, all things you seem to be completely unaware of. So just for the record it is NOT canon that Tommy had a troubled home life. It is NOT canon that he's autistic. It is NOT canon that he was a victim of bullying his whole life. It is NOT canon that he treated Chim and Hen like shit because he was afraid to let everyone else know how sensitive and caring he really is. It is NOT canon that both Chim and Hen forgave him for the way he treated them and consider him a good friend now. It IS canon that he tried to out Buck to Eddie and has now tried to out Eddie to Buck. It IS canon that he sees Eddie as his competition as far as being with Buck is concerned. It IS canon that he was only willing to try again with Buck because Eddie is now 800 miles away. It IS canon that he's condescending. It IS canon that everything about Buck, other than his physical appearance, seems to irritate him. It IS canon that Buck now knows he was never in love with him, not even close. It is also NOW canon that he's pathetic and in fact willing to be someone's second choice so long as their first choice isn't actually physically nearby. This was fun, anon.

Thank you Nonny.

As for Ali's answer?

OOOPS! 🤭🤭🤭

Puh-lease! Most of us have been in the trenches for 7 seasons now. We know exactly what the word CANON means. You know what else we know? We know that CANON isn't always the most important thing of all. We have succesfully been shipping a fanon ship fraught with romantic subtext for years now, throughout all of their failed CANON relationships, such as BT. And look where we are now...

Our patience has finally paid off. Both of them are single and there are obvious CANON signs that one of them is starting to realise the truth about their relationship.

I cannot wait for the next episode! Bring it on!

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[pellucid-constellations]

angstober (6)

Prompt: "Can't Go Home"

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

A/n: Whew 😮‍💨

angstober masterlist here ♡

~~~

“After this one, we’re getting our own place.” 

Bucky’s sweet words found a home in your head. They nestled into the unkind parts of your brain as the battle went on, fear and pain and confusion mingling. Threatening to take over. 

“I don’t care what the rest of them have to say about it. I’m sick of sharing you. Sick of living in this tower with forty million people.” 

“I don’t think forty million people live here, Buck.” 

“Shut up.” 

You could feel the smile against your neck, the memory of his lips there as he spoke. Something blew up a few feet away from the hand-to-hand fight you were struggling with. You felt the heat along your side. 

“I’ve always pictured a brownstone. Even back then.” 

“Back then as in… before you were as old as my great-grandpa?” 

“You’re awfully mouthy tonight.” 

A truck flew overhead. You had no idea which side threw it. Banner jumped over it, grunting at the force. Not your side, then. This fight wasn’t going well. 

“Well, back then,” Bucky playfully stressed, “I thought it’d be just me in there. Bachelor in New York City and all that. But now that I have you—” 

He rolled over, encasing your head with his arms. His nose brushed yours as he spoke next, eyes achingly soft. 

“Now that I have you, I’m thinking something else. Something far away. Maybe more upstate. We can get a horse.” 

“A horse?” you laughed. 

“Maybe ten horses.” 

Pain erupted across your ribs. A boot imprinted there, pressing and deepening the bruise that had already been inflicted. You cried out, arms tightening around the creature thrashing against you. It eventually went lax and the pinch at your ribs subsided. 

You hobbled into a sitting position, clutching your side. The battle around you raged on, screams and commands hurtled into the comm at your ear. 

“How will the team contact us while we’re out in this vast, open countryside? Carrier pigeon?” 

Bucky ran his fingers along your cheeks. “Don’t care. Hope they don’t contact us, actually.” 

You shot up as gunfire littered the ground around you. Your break was over. It had only been about thirty seconds, but that was enough time for you to be targeted. The bullets were different though—bigger, almost…charged? You didn’t have a word for the current that seemed to run through them. 

Didn’t want to have a word for it. 

“How do you propose we do our jobs then?” you asked, humoring him, loving being under his gaze. 

But Bucky became serious, brow lowering. After taking a moment, watching his thumb as is passed over your skin—

“I want to retire,” he whispered. “This is the big one, but then I want to be done. I want it to be just us. I want to be home. With you.” 

Your name ripped through the air like a siren. You turned, craning your neck to catch the call, but it wasn’t fast enough. 

You heard the shots before anything else. Your body braced for impact, braced for the end, but was met with nothing. A small groan was all you were left with, followed by the decimation of whatever had been shooting at you. Tony flew by in its wake, hands still flaming red from the blast. 

When you turned your eyes back down, the battle ceased to exist. There were no sounds, no guns, no danger. There was just Bucky, pressed against your chest, breathing heavier than you’d ever seen him. 

“Buck?” you whispered, reaching out to brace his arms. “Bucky?” 

Bucky didn’t answer you. His knees buckled instead, and you fell to the ground alongside him. Maybe if you were stronger, faster, anything other than what you were, you would have been able to catch him. But you weren’t, so you fell with him, beside him, as you would be with everything in life. 

You positioned him along your thighs, leaning back on your ankles as you examined him. You went to pull at this suit, but he stopped you, brushing your arm away. He reached up but didn’t make contact with your face like you thought he would. He grabbed your comm instead, missing it the first time in an uncoordinated shuffle. 

Bucky was never uncoordinated. 

“Steve,” he said into the device, urgency mixing with an incoherent slur you had never heard from him. “I’m down. I’m—pal, I’m done. You gotta get to y/n. She’s—” 

The rest of his words were nothing but a buzz. The entire scene, the world around you, turned into white noise. Later, you would recognize this as shock. In the moment, it felt as if you ceased to exist. As if everything was ending.

And maybe everything was ending. Because when Bucky put the comm down—when he gripped at the back of your neck and his lips began staining red from blood you couldn’t see yet—it felt as if there was nothing left of you. 

Your hands were shaking. Everything was shaking. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” Bucky whispered. His voice sounded distant, weak. “Stevie’s gonna take care of you.” 

His hands guided your forehead down to his. His labored breath brushed across your lips. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” 

Something snapped within you. Something sharp and cruel. A panicked cry left your throat and you pressed back from Bucky in one quick movement. Your hands whipped around him in desperation.

“No,” you gasped, tearing at his vest. “No, no, no, no. You’re fine. I can fix it. I can fix it, Bucky.” 

But the more you shifted his clothes, the more you saw that you wouldn’t be able to fix it. There was so much blood and it wouldn’t stop flowing from his body. You pressed your palms to the wounds to staunch the flow, but it only ran in between your fingers. 

Bucky wasn’t normal; he could heal from most things. That fact had sent him into the line of fire more times than you could count. 

He had also been in this situation an infuriating amount of times, throwing himself in front of you to take the brunt of a hit more often than you had actually been injured. 

But this time… this time he had grabbed your comm before sending you a sheepish laugh. This time he had apologized and asked his friend to take care of you. 

This time he wouldn’t stop bleeding. 

“It won’t stop. It won’t stop,” you cried, shaky and broken and disbelieving. “I’m trying, Bucky, I swear. Why won’t it stop?” 

“Look at me.” 

You kept up with your ministrations, pressing into his stomach even when he had no response to it. Couldn’t he feel it? Didn’t it hurt?” 

“I can’t make it stop.” 

“Please look at me, baby.” 

With a ruined cry, you did as he asked. His eyes were lidded, but his mouth turned up on one side when you entered his view. 

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he breathed out, straining to touch you. “Love you so fucking much.” 

Your sob was harsh and painful. “I love you more.” 

A scream pierced the sky not too long after that. Steve was only able to find you because of it. 

Even if you moved now, you wouldn’t be able to go home. You’d never be home again.

[romance-rambles]

au - magic/knight!alkaid | can i ask: do you love me?

By a series of accidents involving love potions and cookies, you end up with a boyfriend.

k, fluff + one (1) background relationship, mentions of angst, accidental usage of love potions, reader is mc, series: none

WHEN IT COMES TO THE morality of love potions, there is usually no universally-agreed upon answer, in large part due to the sheer variance in what, exactly, constitutes such a thing.

The law, however, is as full of loopholes as it can be—as long as it doesn't seem to talk, walk, or act like a drug capable of inducing others to fall in love with you, it isn't. And so, if such a thing were to ever find its way into someone's food, it technically wouldn't be a crime.

Then where, you wonder, does the present situation fall under?

With horror twisting your lips into a grimace, you gaze silently at the empty tray of cookies, sat upon the table unsuspectingly. No crumbs remain on its surface, though that speaks more to the character of the man who accidentally devoured them than any skill on your part. Alkaid has always been like this, even when your delicious cookies were nothing more than chunks of coal.

Despite the conclusions you manage to draw so easily, a question—one qualified enough to be called idiotic—slips out of you.

"Did you…" You swallow the lump in your throat. "Did you eat all of these cookies?"

Alkaid chuckles, smiling warmly. "Of course. They were as delicious as always."

On the topic of love potions, sweet in taste as they are, they tend to be amber in color. Sugar turned into caramel, or honey gleaming in the sunlight, as your friend once described it. A treat perfectly suited to her tastes.

Food dye is what brings out the pink hue oft associated with love, and the association is such that there are those who believe that love potions in any other color are simply…

Defective.

It was this same association that led Ehlonna—who came to you in tears, her once-in-a-lifetime request as much a paradox of selfishness and selflessness as she herself was—to request a more natural approach. As the soon-to-be Princess of Leighton, even so much as a hint that a love potion existed in her possession could not only be damaging to her reputation, but would incite needless worry in her brother and father.

Her brother who has just inhaled a plate full of cookies made accidentally with the love potion you crafted for her.

You don't scream. For one, you can't scream, but it is a near thing. The devil whispers in your ear, isn't this a good thing? And it takes a frightening amount of time for your conscience to talk you down.

This is why you don't play around with love potions.

"That's good." An awkward smile. An even more awkward silence. "And you feel okay? They didn't taste…funny?"

The love of your life laughs again. You think it's deserved, a little. A lot. It takes the embarrassing sting off the joke that is your current existence. How does one accidentally put a love potion in a batch of cookies? They run out of sugar and attempt to make due with honey.

How does one mistake a love potion for honey? They put it in an inconspicuous jar and wake up to bake at three in the morning. All because of a nightmare, one as equally like to come true as the opposite, where the groom looked suspiciously like the man in front of you and a blob of colors substituted as the bride.

"Have more faith in your baking," he says gently, holding his teacup to his lips.

On average, knights are not the best at holding their own against magic of any sort. But Alkaid bucks the trend by being startlingly difficult to hex, which, by all accounts, should bode well for him.

Except for the fact that he did, in fact, succumb to the last potion you tested on him. Trust, after all, is a powerful thing. It knocked him out for a week, and when he woke up, it was to the sight of your inconsolable form at his bedside. Even his own family wasn't half as concerned, though his father did advise against using him as a test subject in the future.

"I do," you say numbly, resting your arm atop the chair. Soon enough, it is your entire body that the wooden dining chair—one older than even you—must support. "I really do…"

His amused smile fades, making way for an expression full of concern. Setting the teacup down, he asks, "Has something happened?"

You exhale.

Ordinarily, you would confess everything to him. But everything entails secrets that are not yours to give away. Like the part about Ehlonna nearly taking a lover, for one. How the prospect of marrying for duty terrifies her enough that she would sooner numb herself to the world. How the love of her life vanished at the start of the month, the only proof of his existence being the whispers of the townsfolk and the songs the children sing.

So, you play around with the truth instead, to the best of your ability.

"I think…" You slip onto the seat in front of you with a sigh and a careful bite of your lip. "I think I poured a truth serum into those cookies. It's not where I keep it anymore."

But no one said it'd be a good lie.

His eyebrows nearly disappear under his bangs. You've always appreciated the siblings' willingness to go along with whatever excuses you offer them. Call it gullibility, as some people do, but you think it veers on blind faith.

Whatever questions he has sit on the tip of his tongue—then he swallows them back down and places a hand over his forehead. Gently moving the tray to the side, you lean in close, upper body crossing half the table as you wait your turn.

Alkaid has always made note of your hands. How they often run cold, instead of warm. The telltale increase in body temperature that results from love potions, then, could be obfuscated by that fact.

Frustration knits your eyebrows together. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you ask:

"Do you feel like telling me anything?"

"Not particularly," he answers, looking concerned. For you, you suspect. Then, he takes your hands and squeezes them gently. "It's been a long time since that day. It isn't out of the realm of possibility that I've gained some resistance since then."

Your expression tells him all you'd like him to know. It wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility—if he was anyone else. You'd love to give him some other potion to prove your point, but you can't risk him getting knocked out before the delegation for the Kingdom of Leighton comes knocking on Eden's door for their new princess.

Which is…

Two days from now.

You feel yourself breaking into cold sweat again. The potion takes a month to make.

And Ehlonna is nice. Ehlonna is understanding. Ehlonna is your best friend, and with love troubles of her own under her belt, she will surely understand your circumstances. There's nothing to forgive, her saintly voice echoes in your mind.

On her part, sure.

On your part? Absolutely not.

The smile on your lips grows forced. At the same time, Alkaid reaches out and brushes your bangs out of your face—and you'd love to draw conclusions, but he's always been like this.

"Alright, why don't you ask me a question?" he proposes, half-exasperatedly. "If you've wanted to ask anything at all, now's your chance."

Do you love me?

You swallow the lump in your throat with great difficulty. "What's your favorite color?"

"Green." A lie. The answer is purple.

"What's your favorite season?"

"Summer." A lie. The answer is undetermined—his usual line is, Spring is the season flowers bloom, but Winter is the season we met.

"What's your favorite food?"

"Whatever you and Ehlonna make." A truth. He'd have to be the liar of a lifetime if it wasn't.

This back-and-forth continues for a while longer, his initial reason for visiting nearly forgotten by both of them. It's not as though they'd made any progress on coming up with a fun night for Ehlonna anyways. You'd preemptively rejected places that were sure to remind her of Yin, which left the two of you with almost no options in the nearby town.

Eventually, you run out of questions, but the soft smile on Alkaid's lips does not fade. The devil whispers in your ear, and, for some reason, he sounds a bit like Yin, Ask: do you love me?

You opt for a slightly different question. "Is there a girl you like?"

His eyebrows furrow at the question, and his lips purse. He looks a bit uncomfortable, really. But it's only for a brief moment before he smiles again.

"Yes." A statement, undetermined.

Taking a deep breath, you ask, "Is that a truth or a lie?"

"Which one would you rather it be?" he counters.

Silence engulfs the home you inherited from your mother. It's deep in the forest near Eden's capital, with enchantments cast specifically to keep it hidden from unwanted guests. If someone wants to commission you for a magical product, they must ask during your business hours, at the quaint little art store you own.

The lavender walls of the dining room seem quite intriguing, all of a sudden—even to an eye like yours, which has seen them since birth. There's a few scratches on the table from when you were a child, and the chair slats feel more uncomfortable that usual when you lean back against them.

It would be easy enough to pick the first option, you think. But if the end result is anything like your dream…

Eden—more specifically, you—can only handle one broken-hearted mage right now.

"Who is it?" you eventually spit out, to the tune of your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. Regret instantly floods your veins, but it's too late to back out. Your mother did not raise a coward, nor did she raise someone unaffected by sunk-cost.

"She's…" He pauses, seemingly at a loss for words. "Wonderful. Kind. The most beautiful woman in the world—"

You wonder if you can tune him out.

You wonder if you should.

Every little compliment functions like a dagger, repeatedly stabbing you in the heart. Even so, you count each one and wonder, Could that be me? Who else does Alkaid know who sometimes eats like a slob? You're not proud of it, but hunger often has a way of making you forgo niceties.

And it can't be his cat, either. Sparkles, despite his name, is not a girl.

"Is she sitting in front of you?" you blurt out finally, when it seems like he's about to stop. Then, to make up for your mistake, you bury your head in your hands and pray this ritual grants you invisibility.

"How'd you know?"

When you look up, Alkaid is smiling his usual gentle smile.

THERE IS A LITTLE FOOTNOTE in the banned potion's textbook that provided the recipe for this love potion. You learn about it that night, after pulling the book out of your shelf to occupy your sleepless night in a productive manner.

Half of it is written in a handwriting you've only ever seen in letters your father wrote before his untimely death—the one you modeled the curves of your alphabet after. The other half is written in your mother's handwriting, still in cursive, but with a definitive air of practicality to it, in that it would nearly be illegible to anyone else but you.

It says:

A love potion will not go into effect if the target of the ingester's affection and the first person they see are one and the same. In rare cases, with sufficient willpower, if the two people are separate, the ingester will be able to overcome its effects.

Biting your lips has no effect on your ever-growing smile. Neither does the prospect of having to tell Ehlonna about your mistake dampen your excitement about today's events.

Perhaps that makes you a bad friend. Perhaps wondering if the love potion would've failed anyway, owing to Ehlonna and her brother having an incredible willpower, makes you a bad friend too. In any case, in the following days, it ceases to matter, because your hunch about Ehlonna's fate happens to be correct.

Just not in the form you expected.

When you finally show her and her new husband the textbook—smuggling it into the manor carefully and quietly, though the Duke tends to turn a blind eye to your shenanigans—on the day after their wedding, the three of you can only laugh, as you did in the old days.

— happy (very) belated birthday to @chiefcroissantdeanbanana

[ohithankyou]

transcript for this interview below the cut because i was bored <3 (i might’ve made some mistakes….please ignore but i think it’s pretty accurate). talks about buck and eddie, maddie, and some interesting stuff about baking and buck’s love life here 👀

Q: Buck’s best friend is moving to Texas. His sister had just been kidnapped. How is he doing going forward?

OS: I mean that just sounds like a usual week for Buck on 911. Um, you know he-he’s got some things to work through that-that’s for sure. Umm, you know, it’s a character that’s faced a lot of abandonment in the past and this is for sure, as we see during 809, gonna stir some of that back up for him. So-so a bit of PTSD o-on the abandonment front. But, you know, things, uh, fall into place the way they’re meant to and he’s just gonna have to roll with the punches an-and work it out as he goes a-and not, you know, as we see him do some of in 809, try and stand in anybody else’s way.

Q: It’s heartbreaking for Buck to deal with Eddie moving and hearing him say he had no ties in LA. Did he really believe that, or was that just compounded by him leaving?

OS: I think-I think—I don’t think Eddie means it, right. I don’t think Eddie means it in a hurtful way. I think he means it in comparison to his son. Technically Eddie doesn’t have any ties, right—obligations maybe we should say—but I think Buck, because of his past an-and the level of abandonment that we’ve seen him deal with, you know, in-through flashbacks his whole life—I think he takes it personally and I think—I think Buck believes it out of Eddie’s mouth in that moment and, you know, as wrong as that may be, that’s the way he interprets it and that’s what then lead to uh—uh him picking up a little doggy.

Q: Are you now done with that loft space?

OS: I can tell you that loft space does not exist anymore.

Q: We’ve seem how Buck has handled Maddie being taken in the past. What will we see this time?

OS: Slightly different from what we’ve experienced before. Um-um. . . I don’t quite know how it will play out in the episode—I hav-haven’t seen it—but I think there’s a slightly more rational response this time an-and not as maybe, gung-ho, as we’ve seen from him in the past and he’s gonna try and weigh up a few more options before, uh, jumping to kind of worst case scenario.

Q: Great casting of Abigail Spencer. Could Jee have been take too? What’s Next?

OS: Uh so first of all on Abigail—I only met her one time. You know, we didn’t have much interaction in the show but she was very lovely and it was nice to have her on the show. Um. . . Jee. . .I assume I can—Jee is not taken and in actual fact, Jee is key to. . . discovering Maddie’s disappearance.

Q: With whom does Buck have the most significant conversation coming up?

OS: Is this a spoiler? Maddie! [Laughs] Um, I think-I think-I think with Maddie. Um. . . I don’t quite know what episode it will fall in, currently it’s 811, but-but I think-I think yeah, w-with Maddie is the answer to that question. [Cut?] It’s. . . something that Buck considers to be ludicrous, at least on the outside a-and you know, kind of is a conversation he never thought he’d be having.

Q: What can you say about Buck and Eddie’s goodbye and how Buck will be doing when Eddie’s gone?

OS: Yeah, I mean you know we’ve seen the end of 809 uh. . . Buck had kind of—patched things up with Eddie an-and taken a big step, uh, in-in the direction of apologizing for the—his previous sabotage. Um, but yeah there’s still a good-goodbye to come between them and it’s gonna be. . . find that line between emotional and sad but also y-you know, you have to go and do this thing and I-I understand that and I’m happy for you, you know. He says at the end of 809, “[you’re going] to where you belong and that’s not geographically where you belong but it’s with Christopher.”

Q: How is Buck going to be dealign with everything that’s going on right now? More baking? Another Dog?

OS: He’s still baking. That baking thread has really lasted on the show [smiling, hehe]. Umm [laughs]—the breaking thread has longing—la-lasted longer than certain injuries on the show have lasted, so no there’s—there’s definitely still, uh, baked goods in-in buck’s life and—which I enjoyed because, at the end of the day, they get to come home with me if I so wish or I get to give them out to people—um, he is gonna. . . look into the possibility of. . .of finding new friends—an-and, you know, working out if Eddie’s gonna be away for a while, who am I gonna spend my time with? An-and that’s gonna take him down some fun avenues.

Q: Is anything coming up in Buck’s love life?

OS: His love life’s gonna. . . flick on for a moment or two. And-a, you know, he’s gonna see how that feels and-and if he’s doing that for the right reasons or not and if he’s acting in a way that he feels morally, is the way to go about things. Um, but yeah, it’s-it’s certainly part of his adjustment period that he’s gonna go through.

[zooliminology]

Cunk interview? I'm not her, but lets see...

Lots of talk of clipping. I couldn't find any on your blog. Is there a twitch I need to go to in order to find them? Does streaming fund most of your efforts?

So where is the second blog? For the En-Titties?

I haven't seen any deer, or bucks or anything. Where do all the fauns come from? Sorry, the faun-uh? Might be a typo on my script...

Why is it called Zooliminology? Is there a petting zoo? There's not? I'd get onto that. Lots of money in petting zoos I hear. Y'know, good for the kids.

So how do all of these fauns - fauna, I mean - fit in one far plane? Is it big? Are there flight attendants?

If there's no planes then how do you get there, huh?

Do you, y'know, pee in the suits? I went to the bathroom earlier and it was very clean. Suspiciously clean. Is it like Iron Man? Filters the water? Hm.

Why did you guys feel the need to make the far plane? Was it hard to get water 2 to look like that?

-We are funded through benefactors and it would be rather unsafe to stream any of our activities, as this could and would easily break anonymity.

-There is none. Some of my colleagues possess blogs, but this is the only blog in which information on extraplanar entities can be found.

-"Fauna" being used to describe extraplanar entities has connotations that I do not agree with. Caution should be taken to not liken extraplanar entities to Earth's animals, as assumptions about functions and behaviors can very easily cause us to miss details about them that would otherwise be noted. For all intents and purposes, entities are NOT animals. They may bear a resemblance to animals, but they are not animals. They are their own category currently dubbed "entities."

-I will break this down. "Zoo", in "Zooliminology," refers to the study of animals. Refer to answer 3 for my apprehension of this connotation. "Limin-" refers to the word "liminality," referring to the Far Plane's resemblance to liminal spaces. And "-ology" refers to the study of a certain subject. In its entirety, "Zooliminology" means "the study of liminal animals."

-"Plane" in "Far Plane" refers to a plane of existence. As the true "location" of the Far Plane cannot be marked or fully comprehended, I think this is an apt term.

-No. We take them off.

-It was indeed difficult to get water 2 to look like that. Firstly we took water and then added 2 at the end. This was a very difficult endeavor, especially considering we didn't actually make the Far Plane and there would be some very tremendous implications if we did.

[hippolotamus]

Hiiiii Hippo 💕💕💕

Buddie fic title:

If only I knew you had electric fingerprints

-❤️🪐

Hiiii Saturn!!!! So lovely to see you here! You said Buddie. Please know you have my eternal gratitude for forgiving my slip into Diaz Family Feels. 💞🦛

After the debacle of broken salad bowls, 'I think you should go home' and 'This is your mess now', Eddie thought that he and Chris had worked through the biggest tangles of dating in the Diaz household. Introducing Marisol was almost a non-event. Eddie might even go so far as to call it a success.

He will now admit that line of thinking was more than a bit premature and naïve on his part.

Maybe it was his own growth and evolutions in the relationship department that led him to assume Christopher wouldn't face the same issues. And, well, technically he didn't. No, Eddie's son dealt him an entirely new, foreign set of tribulations. A one-eighty of Eddie's nesting instincts where Christopher is leading on five different girls. Five!

Wasn't it just last year they were discussing how much shirt sleeve was acceptable to show? What the hell happened?

And, OK, it's a new world with new methods of communication and apps and how teenagers interact with each other. Eddie likes to think he isn't completely stupid, because he tries to stay informed about current trends that he would honestly rather not know about. But no article or discussion with the school guidance counselor - or Frank - could have prepared him for tonight. No tips, tricks, signs to watch for could have fortified him for the devastating blow of 'We loved her and she left us anyway' and 'I can't remember her voice anymore'.

When Buck emerges from Chris's room, Eddie is still leaning against the wall, crushed under the weight of a thousand emotions and questions, attempting to prevent his heart from spilling past the walls of his chest. To keep it from slipping through the makeshift cage where his fingers press bruises into his skin, just below his collarbone.

Buck squeezes Eddie's shoulder before wordlessly leading them to the kitchen where he pours them both a glass of water and he waits. Waits for Eddie to speak, because it's what they do. They don't press. And maybe they should - more or earlier - but that's another thought for another day. For another version of Eddie that doesn't feel like the ground has been ripped out from underneath him.

"I don't- How am I supposed to-" Eddie blows out a harsh breath, frustrated that he can't form a complete question. That there is no entry in the non-existent Parenting Handbook for how to tackle this scenario.

"Eds," Buck says the nickname so carefully, so gently, like his tongue is shaping it from the most fragile glass. His hand tentatively slides across the tabletop until it's resting on top of Eddie's own. "You don't need to have all the answers or know exactly what to do."

"I know I don't. It's just-" He cuts himself off, huffing out an unamused chuckle. Because he doesn't know.

And, look, Eddie is fully aware that he doesn't have to be one hundred percent in control all the time, but it doesn't make him hate whatever this is any less. This combination of lost and thrown off course; of sad, bitter anger muddled together with desperation. His own eagerness to bargain for a way to make this situation more palatable. A pathetic yearning for the chance to go back. To never enlist and close himself off. To splurge on the digital camera with video recorder so he could capture a truly ludicrous amount of everyday, mundane moments.

How many hours of footage might they have collected? Of simple things like Shannon chopping vegetables or putting on makeup before a night out. Her and Eddie slow dancing in the backyard to music only they could hear. Or her laughing, bright and bold, as she smudged dirt and filth across Eddie's cheek after he showed her how to change the oil in her car. The way he pulled her in with his own grimy hands, pressing their mouths together so he could swallow the sound.

He blinks rapidly to keep tears from falling as he wonders how many instances would have featured her rolling her eyes - exactly the way Christopher does now - and shoving her palm in front of the lens.

But he'll never know because he's stuck with the choices he made. That they made. He can tell their son stories, bring him for graveside visits, and offer small souvenirs of the time Shannon had on earth, but that's all Eddie can do. He can't replicate what it was like to be in her presence. He can't convey how she was soft and gentle and all the things Eddie isn't, while also being sharp and spirited. How she smelled like peonies and summer rain.

Whatever he has to offer is two dimensional. Framed photographs, memories stored in his mind. Some of them also stored in Chris's though Eddie suspects in a completely different way. Hopefully in a way that doesn't taste as much like guilt and regret for things left unfinished and words left unsaid. Words like-

Dear Christopher.

He swallows hard around the phantom taste of sea spray from the Pacific Ocean, has the urge to claw at damp, sun-warmed sand that isn't there. And god only knows how his best friend has any idea what's scratching at Eddie's brain, but he does. And Eddie is so, so grateful when Buck rubs his thumb across Eddie's knuckles and asks if he should stay or would Eddie rather it just be him and Chris.

As much as Eddie would like Buck to be present as an extra layer of protection, he knows this is something he has to do himself. Even though, as he walks Buck to the front door, promising to call later, he gets the distinct feeling he won't actually be alone.

In the low lighting currently casting shadows around his bedroom, Eddie's fingers tremble as he reaches for the small safe in the back of his closet. A simple design meant to hold important, precious things. The metal dial is cool under his fingertips, easily manipulated as he rotates it right and left and right again until the door pulls open.

It's been years since he read the words written in Shannon's flowing script, but he knows them like he knows his own name. He traces over her loops and arches, wishing, like always, that he had more time. That he could put off performing this errand for a few more years, decades, lifetimes. Even if he knows it's only for selfish reasons. Because he owes this to Chris and to Shannon. It's on him to follow her instructions and deliver this remaining link between mother and son.

He holds the folded pieces of paper in his hands, feeling something familiar wrap around him that isn’t the usual despair. Something that's more like spun gold flowing between the note and his skin.

Eddie bites back a sob as it dives beneath the surface to wind its way around nerves and spill through blood vessels on its way to his heart. As a calm takes root, anchoring in all four chambers, unfurling and flourishing. As the room, that typically smells like lavender fabric softener and the fancy vanilla linen spray Pepa bought for him, is permeated by the overwhelming scent of Texas nights - filled with crackling humidity wrapped in silvery starlight - and velvety pink peonies.

He squeezes his eyes shut, breathing it in, inhaling deeply to his core like it might allow him to hold onto this moment forever. When at last his lungs protest, forcing him to exhale, his eyes flutter open again.

Eddie closes the door to the safe, hearing it shut with a satisfying click.

"Thank you," he whispers, letting his gaze drift to the letter once more before he walks down the hall to pass it to its rightful owner. His son. Their son. A living, breathing tether between past, present and future.

He knocks on the doorframe, briefly saddened by the sight of Shannon and Christopher’s picture turned face down on the desk. It only makes him more sure he’s doing the right thing.

“Hey, buddy…”

For additional Feels™️ may I recommend

[letsfaceitimhereforthecultstuff]

okay so i finally finished the first 2 seasons of 9-1-1, it took a lot longer than i'd anticipated due to other things like assignment deadlines and the app not working getting in the way but i did it

so here are the cliff notes (i might make more in depth posts in the future about some episodes because i have THOUGHTS)

cliff notes after the break i meant to add bullet points but i accidentally added a question instead and i don't know how to get rid of it (i'm currently on mobile) 🙃 so imma just use it

if the answer is no I don't need to know

first i gotta get this outta the way ... i'm not liking tommy i've only seen what 2 episodes with him in and i'm so sorry but he's been kinda mean (imma put that down to him being repressed maybe) but i'm hoping he gets a nice redempetion arc and it's not just brushed over because from what i've seen on here he's such a sweet guy but i did not get that from his first two appearances (maybe the writers just weren't expecting him to because a recurring character later)

i'm LOVING athena and bobby's relationship they're such a good fit for eachother i have been blessed to be able to witness it

it hurts so much whenever someone says "you're not their/a dad" to bobby like why would you do that

when did the writers and producers decided they wanted buck to be a queer character because I've been getting vibes already and it's led me to wonder which came first them wanting queer buck or fans wanting queer buck and them responding in kind

i'm enjoying the new dynamics that eddie's addition to the team has brought i love exploring interpersonal dynamics in my TV shows i also love eddie as a character and cannot wait to dive deeper into that man's psyche

speaking of interpersonal dynamics MADDIE!!! the ghost whisperer herslef [buck thinking a ghost called 911 HAD to be a nod to that right?!] anyways i love love love maddie i'm holding out hope for her and chim they've been through a lot and they deserve happiness

speaking of happiness when will they let chim live!?! - i know that's an ironic statement to make considering technically they've let him live twice - but they cannot seem to give this guy a break he's my guy also he's got a set of pipes on him in his flashback ep working at the kareoke bar singing garth brooks I keep thinking I've hit my peek with my love for this character and then they add something that makes me love him even more

if chim only has one fan it's me and if he has no fans then i have passed because that man means so much to me

they've been putting hen through the ringer a little bit too tbh but i appreciate that they're allowing queer people to get a little messy and make stupid mistakes but not villanising them for it and just being like these are things that happen in relationships sometimes you either work through it or you don't

i have been really appreciating how this show deals with queerness in general too its not this big flashy thing like "hey look over here we have some gays for you shiny shiny gays in our show" they just exist they're loveable they're flawed and they also just happen to be queer

okay imma stop before i ramble too much but if you wanna hear my thoughts on anything specific that happend in the first two seasons hit me up i love talking about this show and need more outlets for it

[wilhelmina-tepes]

This is a fanfic dump

Finally decided to post some of the fanfic I've written. The current flavor is Adrian Tepes. tags for blood drinking and smut. Because why not.

 Alucard might not need it but he wanted it. You lay beneath him devoid of all thoughts, your mind purged by the pleasure he’s so willing to give. Your arms are pinned above your head, one of his hands on each of your wrists as he slides downward dragging touch and taste with him. You cry out his name in pure wanton lust and he feels it. Almost as if his fangs pulse with every thought, he swallows your moans and tries to not think about you unraveling beneath him while he drinks from you. For a moment he considers it, nipping at your bottom lip as his mouth travels downward. What would you taste like arching your back in ecstasy, his cock buried in you to the hilt as he sunk his fangs in? He knows you would love it. But he tells himself that it is too dangerous that he’s not like that…. Which only makes him want it more.

Lips, tongue, and teeth lavish your breasts with needy attention as he drags his nails across your thighs urging you to part for him. Alucard tells himself that if he can devour you as you come it will sate that craving inside him, that hearing you moan his name will tame the animal trying to claw its way out of him. But he knows you want this…you would completely unhinge.

No. He can’t entertain the thought. He loves you but… if it is wanted....perhaps.

Your belly is covered in kisses as he makes his way down leaving a wet trail with his tongue that traces directly to the slit concealing your innermost folds…he wants that too. He’s so careful to kiss you reverently along your hidden petals and you are so very wanting, liquid desire weeping for him. You cry out when he lightly tongues your clit before slithering inside to get a taste. It makes him want it more…no this was supposed to satisfy that craving. His tongue lavishes you with praise until you are bucking your hips against his mouth as you arch your back. can’t stop.... won’t stop….

You’re pinned again, his lithe but strong form holding you.

“Can I….?”

“Yes… mmnng what?" All you want is more of him.

“I want to drink you.” It’s a low whisper and he feels the shiver wrack through your body.

Alucard almost feels bad admitting it but he tells himself that he is good for asking and not just taking, but you wouldn’t have denied him anyway. You answer with a moan and a shake of your head, and he tells himself that’s enough.

As he slides inside you, so slick and wet for him, you moan in unison from the intrusion thick and tight at each end. Your back arches again crying out his name….his actual name….

“Adrian….” It’s barely a sigh followed by a silent moan at the sudden increase in his pace. 

He’s losing it. This will take him and he will have you. 

Alucard is driving both your pleasures as you spasm around him so close to unraveling. He thrusts rapidly and then loses himself pulling your head to the side and sinking his fangs into your flushed neck. Your pleasure takes you suddenly. The feel of his cock inside you coupled with the intense, overwhelming fire in his bite, the feel of his tongue against your skin as he drinks……you hold on to him as if all of existence depends on him. Alucard feels you spasming beneath him, coaxing him, his orgasm possesses his very being as he bites down a little harder trying to contain the animal inside him. 

             He releases his bite, lapping at the wounds he caused, tears threaten to form in his eyes, so afraid he will hurt you. 

             “Adrian, that….it felt so good.”

              He’s ashamed when his cock twitches at the idea of taking you like this again, so, so very afraid he will let go….but he knew you would love it. Alucard leans into you taking your mouth in a passionate kiss before sliding his newly hardened member back into your sore cunt. Lapping at the wounds on your neck he restrained himself from biting down again. Your moans and soft cries are the most beautiful sounds driving him to buck into you, greedy for more. 

               “Adrian, please….”

               “I can’t right now my love, I don’t want to take too much.” He whispered into your ear pleading, unsure if it is you or himself he is trying to convince. “But I will again, I promise.”

               Still, he struggled but knew he could taste you again. Perhaps next time he could nibble other places….

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hi Cal!!! How are you I hope you’re having a nice week!

Lol I hope you know you never have to say sorry for not having finished all the asks yet because 1. The amount and speed at which you write is truly impressive and mind blowing and 2. Literally every word you choose to share is a gift whenever it’s published

I absolutely LOVED 🦷 🛏️ and ➰ they were all so so well done and fun to read and just a general delight!

I had fun doing the themed asks last week so I think I’m gonna keep it going. Lol warning the themes are definitely gonna get more and more contrived as time goes on but hey that’s part of the fun right?

First theme is then and now! Stories that connect the very beginning of the show to where everyone’s currently at.

🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞 (one sentence and I’m already fascinated by the concept! There are so many ways you could take this one and I can’t wait to see how it goes!)

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️ (i literally grin at my screen like an idiot every time I read about how happy and in love they are in this story! And I’m so pumped to meet the next Buddie kid! You already got me to fall in love with Violet and Nico so I can’t wait for the next one!)

- PCA <3

HI PCA!

Thank you!!!!! You are so so kind as always! I'm glad you liked the fics <3

Love this theme!

30 for 🪞 (thank you!!!! I'm excited to share my vision):

---

"Yes, Dove is a great kid. Peculiar sometimes, but sweet and smart. The problem is, with the rising costs of living and raising a family, fewer people are likely to adopt a child with pre-existing health conditions who is already six. But, we’re in Los Angeles. Maybe some wealthy family will take interest.”

Her tone when she says this last part isn’t confident. Crap. That’s not good. 

“So someone could ask to adopt her specifically?” Buck asks. 

“In theory,” Angie answers. “It’s a bit of a process.” 

“Right, yeah. My friends are in the middle of it actually.” Buck explains. “I hope Dove finds a family.”

“Yeah, me too. She deserves one.” 

When they end the call, Buck is all the more determined to solve this problem for Dove. 

iii.

He starts with Maddie and Chim. 

It’s not a hard decision. Maybe it would be harder under different circumstances. 

The person he thinks of first when he thinks of the ideal parent is Eddie. But obviously he’s not going to go there with this. Not the time. Like at all. Hen and Karen obviously would have been the perfect choice as far as taking in a foster kid with specific needs. But that’s no longer an option. Maddie and Chim have their foster license, though. And they’re good people! Chim was just as involved in saving Dove! They’ll want to help her. 

---

66 for ⚡️ (I am very excited to introduce them!):

---

All this to say, by the time they’re on one of their final trips, and the back of Eddie’s truck bed is loaded with stuff, Buck is tired. He’s sore from lifting, would very much like to get off his feet, and relax with a cool beer. But this is moving. Moving sucks. That’s a universal human experience. So Buck doesn’t complain. It’s only when he’s done securing the truck bed and walks back into the house for what is surely one of the last times, and calls out for Chris, who was gathering the last of his things from his former bedroom, that he begins to allow his fatigue to turn into frustration. 

Because Chris does not answer. 

Ten seconds pass. Twenty. Christopher doesn’t respond. 

“CHRIS!” Buck calls again. He figures Chris just has his headphones on. “Time to go, buddy!”

Again, nothing. 

Sighing, Buck tromps down the hallway towards Christopher’s room. The door is shut. Buck knocks on it.

“Chris?” He asks. 

“I don’t want to go yet!” Chris shouts from the other side. 

Buck, who could probably fall asleep if his head so much as touches a pillow, physically pouts at this. He wants to go back to the new house, where their mattress has been left on the floor of the bedroom while they set everything up, and power down like a house-moving robot that needs to recharge. 

“Uh, why not?” Buck asks. 

“Because this is my room and I don’t want to leave it!” 

Ah. Okay. 

Well, that’s interesting. Considering how he’d been excited about a house with a bigger bedroom. And not having to share a bathroom with Eddie and Buck. Literally, two days ago he was going on and on about how excited he was. So what gives?

“Can I come in?” 

“No,” Chris says. “I want to be alone right now.” 

Well… What the hell is Buck supposed to do with this right now?

He checks the time on his phone and tries not to groan. 

“Okay, Chris. I can give you ten minutes and then we need to get going, okay?”

“No! I don’t want to go in ten minutes. I want to stay here.”

Buck takes a deep breath. “Bud, there’s no furniture in there and there’s no food in this house. We’ve got to go home event-”

“THIS IS HOME! I like it here, just the three of us.” 

“It’ll just be the three of us at the new house, too. Where your room is bigger, remember that?” Buck tries. 

“Yeah, until you have another kid!” Chris replies accusingly.

Fuck. 

Buck really wishes Eddie was here for this. 

They haven’t actually said to him that they’re having another kid. They were going to wait until there was a more concrete plan. Not the nebulous idea of a kid, someday. Though Buck supposes it’s a bit less nebulous now that they’ve gone as far as choosing a name. 

“Alright,” Buck says. “I’m coming in.”

[gingerteaonthetardis]

wanna prompt me? go for it! my ask box is currently open.

what i will write for:

DW: timepetals in all* forms (nuwho and classic); doctorjackrose; rose x any companions who give off even an ounce of gay energy (bill, ace, charley, martha, clara, donna, idgaf i will write it); charleightrose (iykyk)

DWxTTOI: malcolm tucker x rose tyler (let's face it, none of you know what i'm on about with this one. but i live in hope.)

BTVS: spuffy

TXF: msr

TWILIGHT: bella x jacob; bella x paul; bella x really any of the wolves because tbh the cullens don't exist to me; bella x jessica

ORIGINAL STUFF: ???? (i will literally just spitball about the high context shit that lives rent free in my head. werewolf polycules, bisexuals in the underworld, regency dramas, girls who accidentally made god fall in love with them... like, it will truly just be Whatever I'm Thinking About Today. no idea why you'd want that, but it's an option.)

*with one exception—i do not currently take tentoorose prompts, as i've done a lot of them in the past and am honestly just burnt out. sorry, guys.

do i accept nsfw prompts? yes! if you want your fill to be nsfw, please be sure to include that in the ask! (if you specifically ask for something that is a squick or trigger for me, i might have to pass and i'll let you know, no hard feelings.)

do i write quickly? no! please be patient, i do this in my free time.

how long will the prompt fill be? depends on a variety of factors! how i'm doing mentally/physically, how much time i have, what i want the fic structure to be, how inspiring the prompt is... safe answer is more than 1k words, but less than 5k. (unless i go buck wild for some reason. it's happened before.)

do i only write shippy stuff? no! i accept prompts for platonic dynamics, though usually not for characters i write as a couple. (for example: platonic doctorrose would be... challenging for me and i'd prefer to write something else, but platonic rose and mickey? other friendships, canon or fanon? i can do!)

"i have a really specific prompt in mind, not something from the prompt lists you've shared. will you accept it?" if it's about the characters we both know and love, probably, yeah! send it and see!

"i have absolutely nothing in mind, but still want to prompt you...?" that's totally fine! here are some prompts for your perusal:

three words + a character/pairing

august prompts

october one word writing challenge

doctor x rose christmas prompts

a hundred assorted prompts

physical affection prompts

two characters + a prompt

blossoming romance prompts

"accidentally turned on" otp prompts

"i want to ask for a pairing/character you didn't include, though." for now, please don't (unless you are a treasured mutual and we've discussed this beforehand). there are plenty of wonderful writers in the world who might be better able to give you what you want!

finally, to read past prompts or other fics, check out my AO3! (there's no spuffy there, alas. but i'm trying to fix that...)

[david-bearman]

For the prompt kink list 29 with Carlando or Landoscar? 🥺🥺

idk what has gotten into me today but extremely bottom/sub Oscar focused I’m terribly sorry. not helped by that drawing that Oscar posted with a dog bowl in the corner

---

Oscar can only truly calm down and let go of all of the tension in his body when he is in puppy headspace. There is often not enough time to truly indulge in a full day of puppy play, so he doesn't ask for it often, not wanting to inconvenience their schedule. The winter break however, is a beautiful moment to indulge in a way he rarely does.

Lando had sensed his restlessness as he had woken up and had promptly ordered him to kneel and tell him what was wrong. With deeply flushed cheeks and refusing to meet his eyes, Oscar told him.

Which was exactly the reason why he was now in between Lando's legs by the couch, a black collar with orange details around his neck, two mittens covering his hands and a thick orange plug that had a curved tail end, moving every time he slightly shifted.

He laid with his cheek against Lando's uncovered thigh, his owner was currently playing videogames, giving him the occasional head pat. It soothed Oscar to not have to think about anything, to just exist and let Lando make all of the decisions for him.

Lando readjusted on the couch, making it so that Oscar's nose was suddenly a lot closer to his crotch. Curiously Oscar eyed Lando who seemed to be fully concentrated on the tv. Slowly he pushed his nose in further up until he could smell the musk of Lando's groin, sweat combined with the leftovers of come. It had Oscar whine deeply inside the back of his throat as he pushed his nose in further, nosing the fabric to get a better smell.

He put his paws on top of the couch to give himself some leverage, just as he was about to nose behind the seam of Lando's underwear a hand in his hair roughly pulled him away.

Oscar whined loudly, upset he was not allowed to nose his owner. Lando tightened the grip on his hair, "Bad puppy, you're not allowed up on the couch, you know that."

Lando maneuvered him until he was down again, both paws on the floor as he continued his game.

Oscar hopefully shuffled forward, realising he had only been put off for getting on the couch, not for smelling his owner. So he leaned in closer until his nose was touching the inside of Lando's underwear and laid his head down, letting himself enjoy the deep breaths of musk.

Lando happily allowed him, occasionally stroking his hair away from his forehead. He fell into a haze, falling in and out of consciousness with the smell of his owner surrounding him.

By the time he realized Lando was done with his game, both of them were rock hard. Oscar whined when he felt the arousal in his pelvis, a reminder of the plug inside of him came when he clenched down and was met with resistance.

"Oh, is my naughty puppy hard?" Lando said in a taunting voice, making Oscar shiver all over.

Oscar nosed Lando's balls, still covered by a thin layer of underwear, as an answer.

"Yeah? Does my puppy want to suck some cock?"

He widely nodded at the sound of that, flicking his tail in excitement when Lando pulled down his underwear until behind his balls. Almost instantly he was on Lando's cock, licking off the pre-cum and groaning at the taste.

Lando held his head with one hand and with the other guided his cock into Oscar's mouth, "There we go, such a good boy."

Oscar bucked his hips at the feeling of Lando guiding his cock down his throat, his eyes rolling back into his head. He let Lando fuck his throat, tears swelling up at his eyes but determined to take it until Lando said it was enough.

"Does my puppy want to come?"

Oscar's eyes winded at the sound of relief, he whined the best he could with a cock in his mouth until Lando moved his leg. Suddenly a hard shin was pushed against his leaking cock, the pressure heavenly.

"Go on then, good puppies get themselves off."

With doubled efforts Oscar loosened his mouth, letting Lando fully take control while he rubbed himself against his leg. The sounds were absolutely heavenly and before Oscar knew it he had lost himself, coming all over Lando's leg without any warning.

Immediately after, his owner came down his throat, forcing him to swallow or choke. Oscar took it all, his belly filled with warm come as Lando finally pulled him off. He tucked himself away before laying Oscar down on his thigh again, smoothing down the sweaty hair stuck to his forehead.

"There we go, such a good puppy. Did so well for me."

Oscar whined softly in acknowledgement, letting himself drift in the pool of his orgasm.

send me a number and a ship and ill see what I can do for you!

[illusivesoulgaming]

"Directions"

Yesterday I saw an re music video on Youtube and one of the comments said "The alternate reality where the Raccoon City outbreak never happened". That was my inspiration for writing this short little thing.

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Summary: "In a world where the Raccoon City outbreak never happened, a cop in the subway gets asked for directions"

Relationships: Leon/Claire

Word Count: 699

Read on AO3

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The subway never had many people at this hour. All the better for him, he thought as he rubbed his eyes. The hangover from last night’s party with Jim was killing him. Downing half a vodka bottle after losing a coin toss didn’t seem like a good idea today, but it had certainly seemed good enough for him last night.

“Train arriving soon”

The computerized voice and the short jingle made him rub the sides of his head. Everyday he spent posted to the subway, the more he wished to get out of there. But rookies went wherever they were sent, not where they wanted to be.

“Just a few weeks and then we’ll have you in the streets. You’ll like the subway, Leon. Not a lot goes on there” Marvin had said to him. 

“ “Not a lot goes on there” Understatement of the century” the cop said as he stretched his arms, barely containing a yawn as he did. Still had to keep the appearance of professionalism.

“Why does a city of a hundred thousand even have a subway?” Leon said to himself as he watched the few people that went in and out of the arriving trains. There were a lot more around rush hour, but still, he didn’t think it justified the number of trains or even the existence of the system in the city. “And Warren said they’re going to expand it even more next year. Must be laundering money or something. I should look into it”

“Give it up, mayor Warren! You’re under arrest” Leon said with his gun drawn as the door from the mayor’s office fell to the floor after he kicked it, a squad of police officers and the S.T.A.R.S unit behind him backing him up as he entered the office “You’re nothing but Umbrella’s puppet, taking their dirty money in exchange for letting them do as they please with this town, but it ends now!”

And just as he was exiting the building with the mayor in cuffs, ready to give his statement to the waiting reporters and their flashing cameras, a strong pull in his shoulder snapped him back to reality and out from his daydreaming.  

“Hello? Civilian contacting planet cop. Anyone in there receiving me?” 

Leon shook his head as he turned to see a redheaded woman in a leather jacket that left her toned arms exposed, black fingerless gloves and long brown boots staring into his soul with a very annoyed expression set on her face.

“Yes, ma’am, how can I help you?”

“Glad to see the city officers being so aware of their surroundings. Only had to stand here for a minute before you noticed. Do you know what station goes to the police department? I’m going to see my brother?”

“Take the train to Redstone Street Station. Once you exit, it’s only a short walk to the department”

“Good. Thanks” the woman replied “By any chance, do you happen to know if Chris Redfield is currently there?”

“Sure is. At least was when I left 2 hours ago” Mentioning the time made him remember all the hours he still had ahead of him before his shift ended. He complained mentally as usual. "Huh, did Chris ever mention he had a sister? Can't remember"

A bright white light began filling the tunnel, and shortly after the big red train arrived and stopped at the station.

The woman stepped into the train, and shortly before it closed, Leon spoke.

“Hey, tell Chris he still owes me 5 bucks”

The woman chuckled “Will do. He owes me money too. What’s your name?”

But before he could answer, the doors slid close and the train moved away from the station.

“Meh, whatever. I’ll tell Chris the daydreaming blondie cop at the subway station told me that you owe him money” Claire said to herself as she watched Leon slowly fading away into the distance as the train entered the tunnel.

“He’s cute. In that dorky way kind of cute” she thought as she sat down and turned on her walkman, put on her headphones and lost herself in the music as the train took her to her destination.

[toons-inkwell]

Misery Loves Company Chapter: 5

Warnings: Blood, mentions of violence/murder, self-harm & suicide, cussing

Words: 2,994

Het hummed a jaunty tune as he descended the stairs of Euthanasia's basement. He knew exactly where everything stood and by the looks of things not an inch had changed since he seen it last. It was years but his eye picked up every little detail that he could recall, the creaky wooden stairs that threatened to give way under his paws but never would, the corners of the ceiling compact with cobwebs, even the smell was the same. Damp and cold, like a swamp in the dead of night, the air was murky from the rusted pipes that hadn't been used for months and fixed for years. The smell itself was actually somewhat pleasant to the cat, a far cry from what he had subjected to himself before. Not only that but unlike the air up above which stung his nose hole with the faint smell of that bitch who used to live there, the basement was free of that. It was clean, untouched, a capsule capturing a moment just right before—

THUNK

Het threw his bag onto a wooden bench near the back of the basement, the expansive space inside filled with tools, a few leftover parts of his victims, and some miscellaneous items jostled about. The bag of "tricks" of his was a mess inside, he hadn't cleaned it in ages. Maybe that's why he couldn't find something to kill Euthanasia with last time. His own disorder and useless junk prevented him from finding a proper tool to use for mutilation. That was a damn shame. He had no interest in killing the buck—well, not now at least. Still, back when he did plan it he kinda wished he could have found something good to use instead of beating Euthanasia with his own appendages. Granted, it was hilarious, but he could have easily prevented himself from getting shot.

"OH!" Het snapped his fingers and looked around, his eye able to perfectly see in the darkness of the room "Oz kept a mirror round here somewhere, now where did he—aha!"

Past a few boxes that cluttered up the scenery was an object propped up on the wall covered by a thin white sheet. Had the boxes always been here? He'd check them in a moment, for now he had to deal with the little issue of his disability. Well, it didn't *start* as a disability, but over time and the repeated blows to the head, body, and everywhere, he had grown numb to most sensations both externally and internally. At first it was neat not feeling pain, then it slowly became troublesome until it was a downright pain in the behind—which he would not be able to feel. As it would turn out not feeling things leads to injuries going unnoticed, honestly it was a surprise internally bleeding hadn't taken care of him sooner. Maybe it was a sort of divine blessing in a way for him to continue his work and continue making that rabbit's life miserable. It was strange how he consistently attributed his continued existence to blessings and what not, he didn't actually believe in the divine and constantly mocked the belief in a god. It was just a saying though, he shouldn't think too much of it. What was he doing? Oh! Mirror, that's right.

Het walked over, yanked the cover off the mirror, and examined his appearance. The light on sure as hell would have helped his examination—but he didn't wanna walk all the way over to the light switch. Why didn't he just switch the light on when he walked down? That was a good question. A darn good question he didn't have the answer to. He was already at the mirror, it wouldn't have killed him to walk over but he just really didn't want to. Cats could see in the dark after all, why waste the gift he was born with by using lights? Speaking of things he was born with: there wasn't anything out of the blue on his face. The cold bone of his skull was relatively intact, even the cracks from where Euthanasia shot him were thinning. It would probably take a day or two—give or take—but the bullet hole that was currently covered by two band-aids would be sealed as well. That just left his body to be looked at and so far everything was good? His fur was scruffed, it had been so long since he brushed or groomed himself, but he couldn't think of the last time it had returned to its original fine, silky texture. His tail was probably good? He gave it a good wiggle to make sure and nothing looked off or broken. He had grown adept at making sure the bones in his tail were fine, he couldn't tell if they were cracked but if they were broken it would make the way it moved rather limp. Breaking others’ bones also helped him understand if his body had something wrong with it. You don't torture a few people without learning a few things about the human body. That was a bit of an issue, he really only knew about the human body rather than his own. Toons and humans weren't that different though, his knowledge wasn't totally worthless. Now the only thing left to check was his lower half to make sure there was no-

"Blood"

Het's ears twitched and his gaze shot back to the mirror. The dim light that emanated from his eye bounced off, basking him in a very small glow. It was this glow that caught his eye that made him do a very quick run over his figure, finally spotting the pool of blood that seeped from under him. How did he not see that sooner? He could still feel whenever his fur got wet or temperature changed, they weren't as numb as pain. Either way, now that he realized it now he had to do something about it.

"You need to fix that"

Het's ears twitched again and he glared at his reflection "can't fix something when I don't even know what needs to be fixed"

The cat sat on one of the boxes on the floor. Resting one leg on the other, he dragged his hand across his blood drenched paw searching for any wound. The calloused pads of his scraped against his fingers, the texture making him tense up. He couldn't let himself be bothered by such a thing, he had to make sure the bleeding would stop or bare minium check if it was a type of cut that would fix itself. The fact that he was even bothered by the texture in the first place was a tad bit strange. He had explored all the squishy bits that someone had on the inside and constantly tested what different things such as organs felt like. Why was the feeling of his paw pads something that concerned him?

"Could be glass"

"No... I think I would have felt the shard" Het replied, still searching himself "wait-" he looked up, meeting his reflection's stare "why would it be glass? It's the countryside? How many rednecks do you think there are bashing bottles or other bullshit out here of all places?"

"There's lots of blood. Broken glass causes lot's of blood"

Het pressed his fingers to his head, smearing the blood on himself as he rubbed temples that weren't there "Lots of things cause blood ya know? Correlation doesn't equal causation"

"Imply"

"What?"

"It's correlation does not imply causation. Not correlation does not equal causation"

"Oh for Christ sake!" Het stood up, the platter of his paw sinking itself back into the blood making him already regret getting worked up. Still, he persisted, pointing to his reflection with a snarl that his face couldn't physically make "I really do hate smartasses like you, equal and imply are interchangeable in this circumstance, what's the difference!?"

"Difference is ones the saying and ones something you said because you forgot"

"WHY DOES THAT FUCKING MATTER!" Het grinded his sharpened teeth against each other "you're not my English teacher, why are you lecturing me on useless bullshit like this!?"

"You never paid attention to your English teacher in the first place"

"BECAUSE I FOUND HER AN INSUFFERABLE CUNT!" He turned away, pacing back and forth a few feet away from his reflection"all the damn time I gotta deal with morons who just plague my life! Person after person, it's just a stream of ignorance that I must subject myself too! I swear if I ignored each and every idiot on my way through life I would be living high and mighty, maybe I'd even be like one of those elitist pricks up in the Hollywood hills partying, living an actual good life instead instead of being forced down here in some musty basement that's air is the only reprieve I got from the contamination this house is ripe with!"

"Do you hate it?"

Het paused, slowly turning to the mirror his voice lowered "... Hate what?"

"Your life. Currently living down in the basement of the only person you ever l-"

"DON'T!" The cat raised a finger, his eye twitching at his accursed reflection's sentence "I don't... Need... A lecture from you..." He took a step forward, eyeballing that smile that mocked him "I know what you're gonna say, and you're wrong... Deeply wrong"

"Mistaken"

"..." Het's eye twitched again "... What..."

"The saying is mistaken, deeply mistak-"

CRASH

The full force of the feline’s fury came crashing into the mirror. His fist shattering it into dozens of tiny pieces that scattered all around him. He couldn't feel the shards stabbing into his knuckles, instead all he felt was unadulterated fury. How dare it. How fucking dare it try and lecture him. Where did it get off trying to tell him what was what? What gave it the right to ask him or correct him with this useless garbage!? Most importantly: why didn't it stop! Why did they just get louder, why are there more of them!? He couldn't fathom why but they just kept coming, like disgusting roaches emerging from a rotting carcass they swarmed him. Dozens of little voices running rampant making his skin crawl, no matter how much he scratched and clawed at his skin none of which would go away

"Do you feel happy?"

"Shut up"

"Does it satisfy you?"

"Shut up"

"Do you really think your making a difference doing this?"

"I know what difference I'm making, just shut it!"

"Where do you think this will lead you?"

"I don't care! Just shut up!",

"You deserve it. Not them"

Tears swelled in his eye. Looking down at the shattered glass he could see the abhorrent demon mocking him. Eyes like the devil, one black the other yellow, sharp teeth like a beast, a skeletal face where normalcy should have been. There was not one but thousands. Thousands of these awful creatures staring at him from each individual shard. He could feel them staring, he could feel them trying to grab at him. They were insects, insects with words that would crawl into his pores before burrowing into the deepest parts of his flesh.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"

Het shouted—nay, screamed repeatedly, stomping on the glass fracturing more of what used to be the mirror. He couldn't feel the shards lodging themselves into his feet but even if he didn't he wouldn't care. He could still hear them, he could still see them. They only seemed to grow and multiple, each shard fracturing into several others. A pool of red smeared across the floor, the demons swimming about in the sea of blood in their sharp boats. What once was dozens of voices multiplied as the faces did, hundreds possible thousands swarm about. He hated it, he hated each and everyone that spoke to him, questioning what he did. He didn't need a reason to explain himself, he had no reason to tell those assholes ANYTHING! Why didn't they just leave him alone! Why didn't EVERYONE just leave him alone from the very beginning!? If no one was there he would be fine. If he stopped anyone from getting close this would have never happened, he would have prevented EVERYTHING and it was so simple to do!

"You know there's one way to fix everything"

Het fell to his knees, a singular piece of shattered glass that looked extra jagged catching his eye.

"Go ahead... Do it"

He picked it up, blood already coated the edges.

"What's a little bit more?"

He looked down to his wrists.

"One more cut, one more slice in a more... Vital area"

His mouth felt dry. He couldn't argue, he couldn't say anything back. It was right, they were all right.

"If you know what's good for everyone"

The world would be a better place without him, one less hideous pyscho.

"Oswald would be better off without you"

The words hit him like a truck, the whisper's finally getting to him. All at once reality came to a halt, his senses returning to him and his surroundings falling back into view. He was bleeding profusely, his legs and paws drenched in his own fluids as dwelled in the basement of his worst enemy.

Slowly he stood up. The gravely scrape of his voice now replaced with a raspy laughter. He held his belly and threw his head back, it wasn't funny. It was downright HILARIOUS

"HAHAHA!" He wiped his eye that leaked tears down his face, flinging the water on the floor "Oh god...your right...your so right!" He proclaimed proudly, tossing away the shard and pacing once more "that's exactly why I'm NOT gonna do that!" He removed his tail and curved it into a hook, pulling over his yellow sack to rummage about "Why the hell would I slit my wrists and die down in some dingy basement!? I still got a whole lotta work to get done!—I mean, the irony of me killing myself while that poor unlucky fuck up there can't is funny, but me kicking the bucket would bring him too much satisfaction, I couldn’t do that, Oh god, how can I ever repay ya for reminding me?"

"..."

Het looked around, nobody there to accompany him. He was alone. Absolutely and utterly alone, down in a basement completely in the dark. He was always alone to begin with.

"Oh yeah... Ain't nobody down here but me" he rubbed his chin and looked down at the puddle, taking note how his legs started to tingle "mmm... Gonna assume that's the blood loss"

Deciding he didn't want his abode for the foreseeable future to be a complete mess, Het began to clean up. Honestly, he didn't even remember what he did. The last handful of minutes were a blur—was it even a handful of minutes? Could have been just a singular minute, could have been an hour, he didn't know. There was no real way to judge time, that would probably be one of the things he needed. A clock, some cleaning supplies, maybe some furniture too considering he had nothing to sit on but boxes of junk he didn't really care to dig through at the moment. For now though he could at least use his bag of tricks to tidy up, retrieving some tools from the bag he sweeped up the glass and then mopped the blood into one side of the basement. He had no way of actually cleaning up the blood but he decided to just leave it, one way or another the room would stink of iron due to his plans so he, might as well start now. Speaking of starting, he figured it was best to start patching himself up before he suddenly passed out from blood loss.

"One-two-three-fou–oh no, five" Het counted, yanking each shard from his foot, occasionally one piece fracturing into more "six-seven-eigh–"

DINK

Het's ears flagged up, his eye snapping upwards "the hell's that!?"

DINKDINKDINK

Repeatedly some irritating noise blared, one after another. It was a grating and sounded something familiar, something that bothered him. What bothered him the most was knowing that the only possible sound it could be was that rabbit. That awful, irritating, fuck of a rabbit that had started all this. Just the thought of him made the cat's eye twitch and tail curl, violent thoughts surge through his mind. He'd get up there and strangle that bastard back into unconscious if it meant he could get some peace. He didn't want to sleep, he didn't like too, but the most he could get was some peace and quiet in his own damn—

oh, wait...This wasn't his house....

Whatever! It didn't matter, the second he'd walk up those steps he'd silence that lagomorph and make sure he stays silent!

"That fucker is gonna have a surprise for him when I get up th–"

crunch

"...."

Het looked downwards, the sound catching him off guard—it probably shouldn't have considering he knew what it probably was. And sure enough just as he thought when he heard the noise, he had stepped on each and every piece of glass he had yanked out. More blood seeped out from both new wounds and old ones that were made deeper. He probably had a good 20 minutes before he passed out so that would have to be the number one priority for now as much as it hurt him. It wasn't the glass that hurt him though, it was the non-stop noise from up above. What even was that!? He heard screaming now but it was incoherent and strained, the noises no doubt coming from the rabbit he had the displeasure of ever meeting. For now though? He'd sit and wait, plucking out each shard and imagining how happy it'd make him to shove it down Euthanasia's throat.

It would be the first bit of happiness he had for a long time.

[fridgemissionmaster]

found your OC info and I'm eating it up!! your world building is so rich. it made me wonder is there any relationship between Abaddon and Thirteen? do the reapers know of Abaddon's existence now that he's left his realm?

Oooohhhhh my goodness YES! Thank you so much! It’s so cool knowing someone actually read that stuff let alone wanna know more about one of my guys!!! I wanna scream!

ANYWAY! I’ll answer Reapers and Abaddon first since this effect’s Thirteen’s and Abaddon’s relationship to an extent.

So… Yes, the reapers know of Abaddon still, his leaving to serve the Demon King is a relatively recent event by their standards of time.

Although, Abaddon’s absence doesn’t necessarily effect the reapers in any meaningful way. Though Abaddon is home he never necessarily led them in any sort of capacity. They know their job and do it, they don’t need anyone to dictate things for them, and any internal squabbles can easily be handled amongst themselves although such things are rarer as reapers don’t interact with one another too often

That however is not to say they are completely disconnected from the man either. His leaving was very noticed, just not impactful. Abaddon is home, not just the land that’s his namesake. Abaddon is no leader, no fatherly figure, but his everything is intrinsically tied to reapers being reapers at all. Though he is not, if any were to actually know of his purpose they may argue he’s the ultimate END, the ultimate reaper in a way. He is the universe’s call to a long awaited good night.

It's more of a kinship where they are similar enough in just the right ways that they feel ties to one another.

Abaddon being the home of reapers is simultaneously a coincidence and natural. Reapers and expired souls didn’t HAVE to go there but were drawn there and chose that by Abaddon’s side was where they belonged and where they’d rest and where they’d prepare for the death of the universe, for his call.

Reapers also if close enough can sense Abaddon’s presents.

As for Thirteen and Abaddon specifically, they didn’t meet till sometime after Abaddon began serving under the Devildon crown as Thirteen and her cave reside closer to the Devildom than the land of Abaddon.

The pair don’t see one another often but on occasion they’d bump into one another when getting supplies for their hobbies.  Whenever Thirteen feels he’s near by she’d go find him for a chat. Half of the time she doesn’t even mean too, but if both happen to be in the Devildom at the same time they will find one another.

Most times they have a brief conversation before going their separate ways, however on occasion they’ll indulge one another and find something to do.

Abaddon is always more than willing to encourage Thirteen in whatever her current pursuit is like to go buck wild with her traps while Thirteen enjoys his more calm energy, a lovely respite from the chaos that is the Dvildom and Solomon.

They wouldn’t call one another friends or family, but both appreciate having the other in their life, Abaddon and Thirteen by the nature of their current occupations don’t have too many chances to socialize and greatly enjoy the other’s company. Something like reuniting with a long lost friend, the kind where it’s like no time passed at all.

They do go out of their way to see one another but that is rarer, perhaps if Thirteen were to find a kit for some hobby she’s convinced even Abaddon hasn’t tried yet or for Abaddon if he spotted a particularly interesting something that might inspire a new trap.

Overall, of the “residents” of the Devildom, other than the MC eventually, Merlin, and Mammon, Thirteen may just be one of the only other people he has a positive/non-hostile on sight relationship from there. If anything THE best one he has there (unless MC/reader/you choose to befriend/romance him)

Feel free to ask any more if you’re curious about anything else or want clarification on anything here.

[just-a-carrot]

[Spoilers for pretty much everything up to the finale. Also I'm talking about Arc 3 here just so you understand.]

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Now I'm thinking about the logistics of having a Switch in Wonderland. I know it sort of adapts to people's subconscious needs (hence the existence of Cecil), but I was always under the impression that it ended only on the subconscious and would still fit somewhat in the ramifications of your one wish. Is there only one wish you can make? I mean, as kids they could wish for whatever they wanted any time they wanted, but obviously Wonderland was much different back then. And with how much emphasis is placed on the wish, I'd think it was the only you got. But anyways, back to my main point. I'm assuming that either the Switch had to have spawned spontaneously after Orlam and Iggy got together or that Orlam, coming into Wonderland with a newfound affection for Iggy, had it (as well as other Iggy bait) tossed in with his usual castle and guards. But... is it just a normal Switch? Like does it have all the same games normal Switches do? And how do the online capabilities work? I mean, there was a TV in Gidget's mansion in Arc 5, so it's not too farfetched for there to be some kind of Wonderlandian equivalent to the internet as well, but there's no way it could connect to the real world internet, right? Otherwise it would all get fucked up. I guess the most probable answer is that it has all the real life games Iggy could want, and maybe it magically keeps up to date with the current switch games in the real world, which would probably take years to come out considering the time speed difference between Wonderland in real life. But now is the most fun question: Are there Wonderland exclusive games? Tailored specifically to your needs? Perhaps Iggy can't get enough of the Kirby games he already has, and just wishes up a new one. Or a Balthier Bunanza dating sim (Orlam would be so jealous. Well, probably not, actually, but I find it funny.). Honestly, that's what this has all been leading to. I want to know if it's possible for Iggy to just wish for new games to appear on his magical Wonderdo Switch. I wanna do that. This ask has been brought to you by my unyielding curiosity and obsession with this game.

this is getting into so much I've never thought about before FJDJDJFJ

hmmm

I feel like a lot of wonderland just formed and evolved based on their inherent wants and needs in addition to their actual wishes. like the fact that when they were kids, they had ice cream and cookies and snacks being given to them, while as adults there's an inn with alcohol lol. even things like how the forest grew and warped around bucks. how the castle and nobles formed for orlam. how the village changed around gidget. none of these things were directly related to their wishes but kind happened in tandem with them based on their current psyches. (also why in arc 5 everything gets even more twisted because their inner thoughts have become so warped and wonderland responded to this)

so I do think a lot of the things they have in wonderland do just kinda come into being in some way or another. perhaps in ways that seem like serendipitous coincidences to the ppl in question

LOL having said that no I don't think there's Internet down there and definitely nothing that would connect to the outside world 🤣 the idea about the games though is super interesting. my initial thoughts are that the games would be formed from their impressions and memories of the real games. but they wouldn't be exact (there would be strange differences perhaps) especially if it's a game they've never played before (in this case, I think a game would be created that fits what that person thinks the game would be like) but I think that those playing the games wouldn't notice the oddities because they're so entrenched in wonderland that it feels normal

I love the idea of random new games just being created I think that would be hilarious 🤣 FJDJDJD BALTHIER DATING SIM I'M SOBBING Iggy finds this on the shelf and is like omg I never thought they would make a game like this??? but otherwise doesn't find it odd even when the game somehow perfectly caters to his every fantasy fjfjfjdjd I love this idea LOL