#skiddyyo

[finniestoncrane]

I found your blog through ao3 and even though I am a professional tumblr lurker usually, I had to jump in here and say I am absolutely obsessed with your blog and ESPECIALLY your writing ❤ You are SO talented and also I'm completely and hopelessly in love with arkham riddler so I'm always happy to see a kindred spirit in that lollll anyway best wishes <3 <3

i am going to SCREAM this is so nice and i also love you now like the parasite i am u-u

i hope the arkham ed nonsense i spew out here is adequate in your simping omg he's just so pretty, he's a superior calibre of goblin and i love him with all of my heart 💚 and plsssss i am not talented i am just so thirsty for so many villains it needs to come out in some form ;-;

[vicunaburger]

Hmmm I want to know your writing process! Do you outline first? Just start typing furiously and edit after? Spill the deets my friend.

AW MAN, GOOD QUESTION.

If I’m having a block, I try to handwrite it out on paper. Usually it’s just like the bare bones of dialogue and plot points, but it’s enough to to remind myself later when I go back and work on it.

If I’m super into it? TYPE FIRST, EDIT LATER. I just plop myself down and start tippy-tapping. I use this nice program called “Zenwriter”, which just like a fancy word processing program that has a dark theme and blocks out nonsense.

If I’m really frisky, I will sit there and act out the parts. Like, talk to myself and move around the room to get the logistics right. 8D

[freelance-bioexorcist]

Happy birthday!!! I'd love to see you draw the Maitlands ❤ nothing specific I just love them

Thank u !!!

They love each other sm ,,,

[elitespacefreak]

I love the idea that Zim bakes from scratch because he has such a hard time with the chemicals in most of the food. Gir happily sits on the counter with the cookbook and probably plays Spotify or smth. ~<3

[agenttexsflippedshit]

skiddyyo replied to your post:

RONI ilu

EXCITED POINTING

OMG ILU2 

YALL SEE THIS BRO I LOVE HER V MUCH

[bubbliciousfearless]

Happy birthday, beautiful!

Aww, thank you so much, lovely~! <3

[elitespacefreak]

For the character thing: Gretchen! ❤

MY GIRL. YES. BLESS YOU FOR ASKING.

•favorite thing about themI love that she’s not conventionally pretty. Even though they’re middle schoolers, Jessica and her friends are pretty, but Gretchen is the awkward romantic and honestly I can relate.

•least favorite thing about themThat she doesn’t get much screen time. It’s middle school, there’s drama, I would’ve loved to see some of that. Like she somehow gets Dib to go with her to a school dance but she’s heartbroken when Zim ruins the whole night for her because Dib runs off to go save the world. I wanted more story with her in it.

•favorite lineHonestly I can so clearly hear her in the lice episode where the countess has her by the arm and she whines “can I go now???” Like there was so much sass and I was oddly proud of her for that?

•brOTPOkay hear me out. I love her and Zim getting real close because of their relationships with Dib. They both care about him and I think he could act as a catalyst for their friendship. Gretchen absolutely helps Zim acclimate to Earth and keep up with his demographic. Zim helps her win over Dib’s heart. They are Squad Goals™️.

•OTPI’m a shameless DibxGretchen shipper. They are my favorite power couple, they just would age so well together.

•nOTPUuuuuhhhhhhhh…. anyone who’s not Dib?? I guess?

•random headcanonShe won’t go to college on Professor Membrane’s money so she becomes the classiest stripper ever and pays her own way through college. Dib is very proud and supportive.

•unpopular opinionI don’t think she’s annoying, I think she is an accurately portrayed hopeless romantic for her age.

•song i associate with themRich Boy by Galantis. You know Dib would want to spoil her but she’d just want to go out and spend time with him.

•favorite picture of themMy phone won’t let me copy and paste one here but in the tale of bitters comic issue there’s a pic of her lookin real menacing saying “oh I’ll tell u how” and it’s really cute to me~

[agenttexsflippedshit]

❤

you are sweet and patient and kind and way too funny and amazing at video games and i wish we could play together more often because i totally miss u o3o

[swan--writes]

Are you still doing the Dewey fanfictions based off of songs? If so, could you do "Your Song" by Elton John please?

Listen, I love Elton John. I really do. That said I did have to listen to the Lady Gaga cover to get in the zone. I’m really glad you requested this song though, this was fun to write!

Warnings: none

Words: 990

You had never done this before. You’d never done anything like this. You didn’t confess your feelings, you waited for people to notice them, and if they didn’t, well, it was probably for the best. You certainly didn’t make grand gestures. This was so far outside of your comfort zone, you might as well have been in another country.

It’s a little bit funny…

But Dewey was worth it.

This feeling inside.

And you knew there was no way he would ever confess to you. At this point, you’d known him long enough to know that. You were about 85% sure he felt about you the way you felt for him, give or take a few percentage points.

There was, of course, the nagging 15% telling you to go home, change out of your fancy clothes, and go back to lounging on the couch eating a personal pot of mac and cheese like you normally did on Friday nights. But here you were, at your work’s annual gala all dressed up, with Dewey on your arm.

You felt like you were going to vomit. But it had to be done.

Your boss was up in front of the piano giving a speech. Your inner monologue was trying to be nice – it really was – but why was he taking so damn long?

“…and with that, one of our best managers wants to come up here and show off a little.” He called out your name and extended an arm.

Damn, couldn’t he have taken a little longer?

Of course, you smiled, and you glanced over at Dewey, who seemed to have forgotten how uncomfortable he was in his tux for the moment and was instead looking – slightly bewildered – at you, and you almost lost your nerve.

I know it’s not much, but it’s the best I can do.

Your boss’s hand didn’t drop. You walked up to him and stepped onto the platform. He handed you the microphone and you set it into place, attached to the piano at the center of the hall.

“Okay,” you muttered to yourself. Then, “Alright,” for good measure. Then you took a deep breath, then nodded at your audience because it seemed the thing to do. You tried not to look at Dewey’s face. “I wanted to do something special for my plus one, who’s missing his students’ band practice to be here. A grand gesture.”

My gift is my song, and this one’s for you.

Feelings were one thing, but you had been playing piano for as long as you could remember. This was like breathing to you. This, you could do.

You pressed down on the first three keys, and exhaled slowly.

The first verse was slow. Your eyes never strayed from the piano; the keys, the mic, the lid. It was a baby grand, and you couldn’t be more grateful for that. It must have been recently tuned too, the sound was extraordinary. You had been afraid you would have to try to stop thinking, but this was almost easy.

Dewey’s face was in your mind, but when wasn’t it these days?

Now you can tell everybody this is your song.

You had met at the grocery store, of all places. You had both reached for the last bag of pre-popped popcorn. He had insisted on playing rock-paper-scissors for it, and also insisted on cheating.

It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done…

Somehow, he had convinced you to buy him a coffee in exchange for the bag. Coffee had taken well over an hour, and you wound up splitting the bag anyway. He had become a quick friend.

I hope you don’t mind…

His whole child band, Roadhouse, basement-dweller…thing had been a bit off-putting to you at first, but you supposed that was a fair trade off. Your high-end corporate lifestyle was a bit much to him, even after you had gotten used to his lifestyle.

I hope you don’t mind that I put down in the words…

But the one place you could always connect was music. To Dewey, that was everything. And, after a few months of Chinese food nights, movies, lunch outings when he dragged you away from work, and crashing at his new apartment only to wake up to him quietly strumming his guitar in the next room, Dewey had somehow become everything to you.

How wonderful life is while you’re in the world.

Dewey was the softest, kindest, most fricking supportive person you had ever known and, God, you were crazy about him. There was, however, only one way you knew how to even begin to try to tell him that, and this was it.

“So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do…you see, I’ve forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue.” You had thought about changing a word, but for all the time you had spent trying not to gaze lovingly into Dewey’s eyes, nothing was worth changing Elton John’s lyrics. “Anyway the thing is, what I really mean: yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen!”

You knew you were an expressive singer, and you hadn’t been able to get Lady Gaga’s Grammy performance out of your head anyway. Half of your coworkers were probably judging you. You didn’t care yet. After you were done? 50/50 chance you would.

“I hope you don’t mind--I hope you don’t mind that I put down in the words…” You took a breath. You had to. There were tears in your eyes.

Almost by accident you looked at the crowd, and your gaze landed right on Dewey. He was staring at you with an openness that almost stole the breath you had just taken. He was soft, and he was steady, and you knew--you knew how he felt. What were you supposed to do with that?

So you exhaled through your nose and finished the song. That, you could do. “How wonderful life is while you’re in…the world.”

Outro. Mandatory applause. Dewey making an incredibly loud ass of himself. You smiled at the keys, then stood and swept away from the piano. Dewey was making his way through the crowd about as gracefully as you would expect.

You did try to speak – you really did. You opened your mouth and everything. Before you could say a word, however, Dewey’s lips were on yours.

Well. This, you could do.

.

.

please reblog, my engagement is down and it’s really helpful for content creators

Tags list: @skiddyyo @geeky-marie @ironmansuucks @missihart23 @ballerinafairyprincess @thewolfisapartofmysoul

message me or drop me an ask if you would like to get on the tags list

[raphaelhatesbugs]

skiddyyo replied to your photo “This show just keeps getting stranger.”

This looks like it could be someone's fetish fanart

YOU HAD TO GO THERE

[actualraph]

If you could have a pet, what would it be?

Well we already got Mikey.

[agenttexsflippedshit]

skiddyyo replied to your post: me, sitting straight up in bed: B̶̳̝͓̓̀...

Happy birthday!!!!!! ilu

thank u!!! i love u too!!!!

[swan--writes]

What’re your thoughts on the masterpiece that is In The End of Time( A Cappella Version) from the School of Rock soundtrack?

Why...did I not...write this...MONTHS AGO? I banged this out in LESS THAN 30 MINUTES. SON OF A *continues grousing in the next room for another hour*

ahem~ Anyway, I hc Dewey as autistic in much the same way that I probably am autistic.

Warnings: none

Words: 595

“Dewey, honey, I’m sure it’s great but I–”

“Yeah, but you can’t know that!”

“I know you. You’re amazingly talented, and I have to–”

“Look, just--just hang on a sec. Alright? Lemme just run this by you, just real quick.”

“Sweetheart, I’m late for work.”

“So am I. Baby, please?”

You groaned, but dropped your bag to the floor and sat down. “Fine. Go for it.”

Your partner dropped the puppy eyes instantly. “Alright, so…” Dewey stepped back away from you, into the middle of the basement floor. Vaguely, you wondered if Ned and Peggy were still home.

Dewey didn’t have his guitar within reach, but he didn’t seem to think he needed it. You were sure he didn’t, and given the funk he had been in since No Vacancy had kicked him out, you thought it might be safer for everyone if he didn’t have it anyway.

“It begins on a dark stage,” Dewey said dramatically. “And then a beam of light, and you see me…and my guitar.”

You folded your arms, crossed your legs, and raised an eyebrow. Maybe this would be worth being late for work after all.

Dewey started making guitar noises. Then he started to…sing? “In the end of time, there was a man who knew the road, and the writing was written on the stone.”

Oh, so this was why he had worn his Metallica shirt while he was writing yesterday.

“And then a thin layer of fog comes around my ankles.”

“Dry ice?”

“Exactly, yes.” Not even your interruption could break his commitment to the song. “In the ancient time, an artist led the way. But no-one could seem to understand. Chiiiimes!

“In his heart he knew that the artist must be true, but the legend of the rent was way past due--and then Katie comes in on the bass!”

“Wait, is that was this is about? The rent?”

Dewey was too busy making bass noises to answer you. “Well, you think you’ll be just fine without me but you’re miiine! You think you can just kick me out of the band?” Now he was banging his head. “And then Zack comes in with a face melter!”

“Are you allowed to tell me your students’ names?”

“Probably!” Dewey sang. “Well there’s just one problem there: the band is miiiiine! How can you kick me out of what is mine?”

You had to admit you were impressed by his range.

“Well you’re not hardcore, unless you live hardcore. Oh! And then the backup singers go: Well you’re not hardcore--No you’re not hardcore! Unless you live hardco--Unless you live hardcore! But the legend of the rent was way hardcore!”

You couldn’t help yourself then. You gave him a standing ovation. There was sweat around his collar when he finally dropped his air guitar and started hopping around.

“Bam! Bam! And then confetti! Explosions! And then that’s…” He swallowed and swayed to a halt. “…that’s all I got so far, that’s…” He swallowed again. “Hoo…”

You bit your lip and smiled, because what else could you do? “Amazing. I love it.”

“Yeah?” Dewey asked, still breathing hard.

“Yes! It’s fun! It’s great!” You stopped clapping, stepped up to your partner, rested your hands on his lapels, and gave him a chaste kiss.

“Thanks, baby.”

“You deserve it.” You kissed his cheek. “Okay, gotta go. Bye!” Within seconds, you were up the basement stairs and running out to your car.

Dewey stayed behind a moment, hands on his hips. He paused, then smiled and said, “Sick.”

.

.

please reblog, if ye are so moved

Tags List: @skiddyyo @geeky-marie @ironmansuucks @missihart23 @ballerinafairyprincess @thewolfisapartofmysoul

message me or drop me an ask if you would like to get on the tags list

[raphaelhatesbugs]

skiddyyo replied to your post “Ninja Turtles are GROSS headcanons”

100% agree that Raph would spit a lot. So gross.

He seems like a phlegmy guy...He also pisses in the shower (they probably all do lets be honest.)

[mikeyshulagirl]

skiddyyo replied to your photoset:The things I do for Mikey �� I was gonna dyeing it...

You are stunning! Mikey would definitely approve ;)

Hell yeah! :D Exactly why I did it! And thank you! ^^