#i cant make the words come out good

[assless-chapstick]

Hellooo! Just wanted to say I love you’re Fics. You’re writing is so damn good, along with the smut. (Very hard for me to write) is very impressive! Any more fics in the pimple line?

feller I'm so glad you enjoyed them!! I really enjoyed writing and sharing them and I'm tryna get that fire back !!

since my Kîyanaw series turned 4 this year, I was brainstorming some ideas and was thinking about another part...

like 8 years on Arthur and Charles have made good, they've got a herd of cattle now and have hired on a couple hands (the sons of the old spinsters what helped them get their start) and they ain't just homesteaders no more but real ranchers. They're comfortable - maybe Arthur has even seriously started working on illustrations of herbs and wildflowers, fixing to get them published as a field guide or something...

anyway they're comfy and happy and living a charmed life... the RCMP come around some times, and it still gets their hackles up, but they're ok.

And then one day they get a letter.

Charles had been at the post office, picking up some parcels, sending out one of Arthur's illustrations to the publisher maybe, making smalltalk with the postmaster. And the postmaster he goes like "hey you fellers employ drifters and the like up at your place, right? anyone pass through by the name of Tacitus Kilgore?"

and that's how they get word, a sneaky letter from Sadie, that she's alive. That John and Abigail and lil Jackie - who must be what, shit, fourteen? - are still alive.

and shit happens they head down there and Arthur and John have a super emotionally fraught reunion cuz like, John is so happy to see him but so fuckin angry because he thought Arthur had died, and then because he feels like Arthur abandoned him like, why didn't you look for me? You say up there on your fancy fuckin ranch for eight god damned years and you never thought to look for me?

And this is at the point when Abigail and Jack aren't around and John is tryna build that house... and just such a super low point so it's very emotional and hard on him and he's mad but only cuz that's how all his emotions present themselves djbdbdbd

and then Charles and Arthur help him build the house and there's one night, just one where John is drunk(er than usual) and lamenting the loss of his family and he turns to Arthur for comfort the same way he always has and then John is kissing on Arthur's neck by the light of the fire and Arthur's hands are on John's hips to push him away but he looks over John's shoulder at Charles and they communicate in that quiet, sacred way they do...

and Charles is a sex freak who loves to watch so he watches as Arthur fucks John in this way where it's like, this is a relationship that is so unnameable... it's not just friendship not just fraternity it's like there's this connection where Arthur is the only person in the world who knows John the way John knows Arthur... so he fucks him and Charles watches and then they all make out

and in the morning John pretends it never happened like "I'm gonna get my wife back... I'm just not the type to share. Sorry Charles" and like it was just this one time thing and it gives John the willpower to carry on and hustle for his family dhhfhf idk that's just my idea

and then I had an idea too for just a fun one shot of John/Arthur gunplay where Arthur takes the cold barrel of his revolver and runs it along the bony jut of John's hip bone where it peeks over the waistband of his pants.... and he calls John the ugliest sonofabitch he's ever seen and spits on his face even as he so gently gathers John's hair up in his hand so John can open his mouth so Arthur can gently gently fuck it with his gun and then maybe also his dick

idk mister I'm just in a fun goofy mood that's what's been on my mind lately!! thanks for asking!!

[foundfamilywhump]

see like the thing with 'carewhumpers' as a concept to me is it just like... i know this is prrrrobably not really how it's meant but something skeeves me out about the idea that kindness or caretaking mixed in with hurting someone can somehow meaningfully complicate or dilute the harm done to the point of making that character no longer a 'whumper' whereas someone doing the same 'bad' things but not ever being gentle or caring for them would just be a straight-out whumper. when like... that's how 90% of irl abuse dynamics work? so i just... don't really get the point, i guess. like to me it implies something about the 'care' provided somehow mitigating or combating the harm done that. i just do not personally appreciate or enjoy.

[deoidesign]

Someone killed my boss last night and he sent me this I'm so fired

god I can't wait to make this comic.

[dizzybizz]

im so

im so .. insane about him right now

I LOVE HIS BIG PEEPERS . HIS BIG PEEPERS WHEN HES SO DEEP IN THE ZONE !!! ITS ALMOST EERIE LIKE AUHGDJJFGGH

look at him hugging his bag. look at his sproing.

i love!!!!! when his eye goes

BOKUTO YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[sea-buns]

Forgive me if I'm a bit nervous about Gorgug this season. It's just that the last Zac Oyama pc was Colin Provolone, who was arguably one of his greatest D20 performances, if not the greatest.

Zac always does great with every pc he plays, but Colin was something else. He came out swinging with actions and words that were teeming with unspoken emotional baggage. The way Colin's presence affected the other pcs; there was this level of depth that I don't think I've seen in any of his other characters. It was understated and quiet in that signature "just a guy" way that he tends to be, while still captivating everyone instantly with just how raw it was.

Not to say we haven't seen emotional depth in Gorgug. It's just that, compared to the other Bad Kids, Gorgug's journey and progression as a character has been very... impersonal? Like, yes, he found his birth parents, and he found friends who appreciate him, and he faced his insecurities about his intelligence, and he navigated relationship troubles, and his trial through the claustrophobic bug-tunnels was a horrifically-uncanny parallel to how he's spent his entire life trying to make himself as small as possible.

But how much of that has actually changed him from the Gorgug we started with? I would agree that he's definitely happier with his life, given all the loving and supportive people that have been added to it when it used to be just him and his parents. And he's certainly grown into himself and become more self-assured in his abilities, even if he's still, and always will be, our anxious little guy. And there's nothing wrong with that. I've always liked how Gorgug was a representation of all the little things. The subtle acts and kindnesses that don't seem like much to most, but to some are everything.

We don't need another Bad Kid living in fear that their mouth could be shit-in at any moment. We've already got one-too-many.

All that being said, I just feel like Gorgug's personal story beats are much easier to sweep under the rug than everyone else's. He has the same soft and understated quality that Colin held, but they lack that extra oomph that pushed Colin over the edge from being just another guy in a series of dudes, to a character that the vast majority of us could not get out of our heads. He took someone who was anxious and softspoken, who ultimately never wanted to be violent— someone who is remarkably similar to Gorgug in many ways— and maintained that demeanor and core in Colin's character while still hitting us in the feels with character development at max velocity at every turn.

I think Zac gets better and better at this with every season that goes by. With each new character, there is always something that leaves me stunned in awe. And it's been, what, three? Four years since we last saw Gorgug?

I'm just,,, I'm cautiously optimistic but also going into a bit of a worry about what violence this man may inflict upon us

[lightbulb-warning]

i used to freehand comics all the time as a child and since the part i liked was the drawing part i would just draw panel after panel because i didn't want to stop drawing to think about icky icky words, plus the story TOTALLY still made perfect sense! to me! and noone else, but 'whoooo caaaaares omgggg its not like comics and sequantial art are a communicative meeediummmm lmaoooooo'. i spent my entire childhood telling myself stuff like "oh pfft I know this story by heart- ill SIMPLY remember the dialogue and write it later" ...and. I can't help but admire baby maiora's (call that a minora ba tm tsk) fucking audacity? hubris? confident wrongness? kid couldn't even remember to finish the comics in the first place? INCREDIBLE levels of unearned self assurance, wish that were me, genuinely- what an icon!!! anyway i think i have forever cursed myself

[good-beanswrites]

A little something featuring Fuuta and Es after talking about their criminal lack of interaction in fanworks with @waivyjellyfish ! You had such awesome ideas (a few of which I'm still bouncing around in my head to post at some point,) but this one ended up taking over my brain -- I hope you enjoy 😅 Attempting to answer the widely-debated question:

“Oi, why didn’t you hit me?”

Es looked up from their paperwork.

“Prisoner number three. Most people are glad when they’re not struck.”

“Well, I’m not.” 

Es usually left the door open at this hour, in case anyone had any last-minute complaints before curfew. No one usually took them up on the offer. They figured that if there was any prisoner they could count on to complain, it would be Fuuta marching through their door.

“You hit all the other guys. You even hit some of the girls that were giving you trouble. So what? You think I’m too weak? You think I can’t take it?” Fuuta spread his arms. “I can, so show me what you’ve got!”

Es sighed. They put down their pen. They folded their gloved hands together, resting their chin on top. “Fuuta, I’m not going to hit you.”

“Why not?”

“As of right now, I have no reason to. If you’re referring to the interrogations…”

They reflected on the first one they'd shared with him. To be fair, the thought had crossed their mind. It would have been satisfying to give this rowdy prisoner a taste of his own medicine – striking him after such a dramatic charge at them. But Es was always good at reading people. It didn’t take them long to understand Fuuta was the type to lash out first and ask questions later. In fact, that was likely what had landed him in Milgram in the first place. 

Although Es knew they weren’t here to do any reformation, they wanted to try to show these prisoners where they’d gone wrong. So, they resolved to act as the bigger person. They’d prove that senseless violence was just that. By keeping their composure, they’d show Fuuta just how childish he was being. 

That wasn’t my only reason. I guess that's true, my actions weren’t all purely righteous. I still spent the entire time looking for ways to make him squirm… But it wasn’t all cruelty. I really did want to understand. I wanted to help. That counts for something, right?

Es never struck the prisoners out of anger, or as a petty show of power. It was a way to force the prisoner to mind their ego. When they’d gotten a bit too full of themselves, a bit too comfortable with the awful deed they’d committed, Es’ blow encouraged them to feel a bit more humility and guilt. 

By the time the second trial arrived, Fuuta oozed guilt. 

The moment Es entered the interrogation room, it was clear that he needed no lesson in humility. He hugged his arms to his chest. His remaining eye darted around the room in thinly-veiled hysteria. His voice trembled when he spoke. It didn’t require any people-reading skills to hear the remorse that underlaid all of his accusations and threats.

Hitting the others felt like giving a dog a tap on the nose after breaking a rule. Meanwhile, Fuuta snapped and snarled like a stray who’d been kicked time and time again.

Of course, he could never know any of this. Any way Es phrased it, Fuuta would misunderstand it as pity.

Well, wasn’t it? I thought he looked like a kicked puppy – that sounds a lot like pity. No, it was out of respect. Does that mean I didn’t respect the prisoners I did hit? No. I respected them too. Then, what’s the difference?

Fuuta was still staring at them, asking the very same question. What’s the difference?

“Each of Milgram’s prisoners is unique.” 

They were met with an unimpressed glare.

Es chose their words carefully. “Each one responds best to a variety of treatments. Some need attention to be comfortable, while others need time. Some need validation in order to confess. Others, a bit of debate does the trick. Some need a show of force. You –” remind me too much of myself  “– require something else. I’ve learned to change my approach depending on the person I’m dealing with.”

Fuuta’s features flashed with confusion, then shame, then his usual mask of anger. “Tch. How pathetic.”

“Excuse me?”

“So you just change your personality when it’s convenient? You put up fake smiles and fake attitude? Have some balls and just be yourself.”

Es was caught by surprise. “... I am. Those are all pieces of myself. I choose to bring out different parts when it would be most helpful.” 

“Sounds manipulative as hell to me.” 

It makes sense he doesn’t understand. He’s a very clear-cut person, with every aspect of his personality lining up in a way that makes sense. I find that predictability fun. Or, is it something that I envy? Could it be both?

They had no time to dwell on it, as Fuuta was struck with an idea. “Though, if you can do it on command, why don’t you give me the ‘you’ that wants to hit someone?” 

He spread his arms once more, hands gesturing to his chest. Es pretended not to notice him wince. They remained in their seat. 

“What are you waiting for? Hit me!” 

“I will not.”

“You just said you can change your personality on a whim, so let’s see it!” 

“That is not what I said.”

His good eye began to look frenzied. He raised his voice. “You scared? The big bad warden of Milgram, nothing but a big coward!”

“Stop this. You’re acting childish.”

“No! You’re treating me childishly! Let me see the Es that kicked Shidou! The one that slapped Kazui! Treat me like you treated them!”

“I hit them because they said something stupid. They deserved it.”

“Are you fucking kidding? I deserve it too! I deserve it! Come on!”

At the last word, his voice broke. He stumbled to his knees. He let his head drop. He sucked in strained breath after strained breath. Shidou would surely give him a lecture about getting so worked up with his injuries. 

Es finally stood.

They made their way around the desk. They knelt on the floor in front of him. 

“Why?” he wheezed. “Tell me…”

“Fuuta.” 

Should I just go ahead and do it, just to make him happy? No, I want to talk it out. But what do even I say? I'll tell him that I care. I can’t. None of the prisoners understand that I care. Why? Why is it so hard for them to see? I’m trying my best, why can’t they see? 

Es extended their hand carefully. They didn’t know what they hoped to accomplish, but in that moment their thoughts were too loud and conflicting. They needed to do something.

Fuuta saw the gentle intention, and immediately raised his own hand to strike. It froze midair, though whether it was from Milgram’s restrictions or his own hesitation, Es would never know.

Neither of their gestures connected.

Footsteps. Then Yuno’s voice, hesitantly from the doorway. “We heard shouting, is everything alright in here?”

Es retracted their hand.  A beat. Fuuta dropped his, too. 

“Yuno. Yes, we’re fine. Fuuta was just heading to bed. I’m going to walk him to his cell.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I said, I’m going to walk him to his cell.” 

Es stood, nodding to Yuno. When she’d gone, they turned their attention back to the prisoner crumpled on the ground. They made an effort to quiet their ever-racing thoughts. 

“Listen. I know you can handle yourself. I’m not doing this because I think you’re weak. You’re strong. Don’t think for a moment that I don’t see that.”

They held out their arm to help him up. He didn’t move.

“Sometimes you are a bit too strong, if you ask me. I mean, picking fights with your prison warden, really?” They clicked their tongue. “You should be grateful for a superior that gives you second chances.”

At last, Fuuta  took their hand. He avoided meeting their eyes, but his voice had softened considerably from his rant. “The only thing you give me is a headache.”

Es offered a dry smile as they pulled him to his feet. “The feeling is mutual.”

[triglycercule]

What do you think the types of drunk would the murder trio be? Im pretty sure ask dusttale already answered this question about dust but i have to ask the mtt expert

see now askdusttale DID answer the question. but they didn't ANSWER the question when asked what dust is like drunk. they just said that dust is the type to drink himself blackout drunk. so that mean i have total freedom on deciding what the mtt are like drunk hehehe (rubs hands together in a villanous way that you would imagine nightmare doing or something idk)

i already have an absolutely hilarious idea for horror and it might just because i'm on the guilt section of his character analysis but i could TOTALLY imagine him being an emotional drunk. like he CRIES. horror sans man known for being incredibly guarded and private with what he feels bawling his eye out. he gets mad he gets sad he does not get happy because horror doesn't have the right to be happy. he is too upset over the fact that he fucking DOOMED all of horrortale because of his selfishness and nothing can stop him from being incredibly vocal about that fact so much so that killer had to tape his mouth shut because he wouldn't stop crying so loud. and then he just silently cries until he passes out from exhaustion. the alcohol has an incredibly strong effect on him because i dont think he would drink regularly plus he definitely hasnt drinken anything in those 7 years of starvation. it hits like a fucking plane crashing into him. or like getting his eye taken out again. either one!

another funny idea i had for killer would be like the alcohol affecting him but he SWEARS that he's still sober. he is very confused when he starts stumbling because wtf he doesnt FEEL drunk??? why is he bumping into walls and tables HELP WHY DOES HE SOUND FUCKING STUPID???? the alcohol is definitely effecting him but he swears he swears he doesn't feel drunk. hes not drunk its just the damn body doing this stupid bullshit!!!! he's still very aware of what's going on and is basically the same as sober but just like. he's wiggly he's wobbly and oh shit he just fell head face first into a tv whoops. he'd also have a high tolerance because just because. he can drink without feeling like shit until he just blacks out mid conversation with someone because his body couldn't take the toll of all the beer or whatever. hilarious idea triglycercule thank you triglycercule i know

dust in the context that we already know that he drinks AND he can fight against the human while like partially drunk.... i feel it would be kinda like a giggly drunk situation. except dust doesn't laugh at anything that's funny he only laughs when someone gets hurt or something. SADISTIC giggly drunk. because i can already imagine a half drunk dust laughing his ass off after killing the human and its a beautiful sight to me.

anyways imagine how it goes when you pair this sadistic giggly drunk with another that wont stop going through the 5 stages of grief and another that keeps on fucking falling over for no reason in his eyes. dream blunt rotation but the blunt is a bottle of vodka. i can already imagine it in my head and its fucking HILARIOUS. horror going on about how he caused the deaths of others and manipulated and tricked papyrus while killer is just trying his best to keep his eyes open because for some reason they won't stop trying to close. he is surprisingly getting frustated. dust has long since lost his voice laughing at this and he's just silent wheezing at everything. also phantom papyrus is only making the laughter worse because he keeps on making rude comments towards horror and killer and only he can hear him and its guffaw inducing. mtt amazing friend group you dont get shit like this anywhere else

[nomairuins]

i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is

[yanderespamton78]

the current state of the arg

sorry guys the art isnt arting D:

(btw if youre confused on why i drew turnip like that i was referencing the picrew he did ages ago bc idk it looked fun to draw anddd i dont like taking reference off real life images)

[skyland2703]

…ok so I got inspired <3

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Thesis in the tags

[yutamayo]

byeeee

[nbclover]

What if you could exist as nonbinary in the world

[soobvape]

heol

[hella1975]

Hi, I followed you for your fic and I saw you had some posts about having ADHD.

I'm also ADHD, could you tell me about your writing process? I get stuck with things staying in the notes app and they don't really get past that stage.

I'm not sure if it's an interest thing, if the notes fulfill the want so there's no need to put it together. If you have anything thoughts about how to keep up the consistency for fic that'd be appreciated.

Hopefully this isn't too serious of a question, I just have some trouble with wanting to write but not having a purpose for it and I was wondering if that was a brain thing/relatable.

Thank you in advance for any response ☺️ also good luck with your uni stuff~

thank you anon! and dw this isn't too serious at all. i think it's interesting that you ask about keeping consistency bc ironically the biggest tell of my adhd in my writing is my INCONSISTENCY, as you can see with the way updates happen. i wrote 200k words of taob in one year and now i update twice a year on average. i wrote 60k words of tams within a few weeks and now it hasn't been updated since july. and these are just my public projects where i at least have the added pressure of knowing people are waiting for an update, you should see the state of some of my original wips! basically my point here is that my adhd is VERY apparent with my writing habits, but these days i work with it instead of trying to fight it. even before i knew i had adhd, i was aware that my writing came in periods. id go a few weeks churning out insane amounts daily and then dry up for months on end, and each time id enter the 'have i lost it??? will i ever write again???' spiral until low and behold, something would inspire me again and id be back to typing like a madman. i used to seriously fight my dry periods bc of that fear of 'losing' my writing, but that never helped and honestly turning writing into a need instead of a want probably made it worse.

it's one reason - aside the fact it is rude and annoying, i dont want to pretend it isn't or put the blame on me bc that's not what im saying here - that constant demands for fic updates bother me so much, bc people dont realise that the writing style i have now where yes we unfortunately go long times without updates is actually how my writing comes out at its best standard. so yeah! it can be incredibly frustrating and even scary to feel physically unable to write, but if it's something you like and want to do i do truly believe it'll always come back sooner or later, or at least that's my experience :)

[get-more-bald]

the thing about X6 is that he's essentially a slave given to the Sole Survivor by the Institute. and I think that the fandom's treatment of him would be different if the game addressed it or even just said it