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aestknowsbest · 15 days ago

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It was apparently a running joke that Bernard gets his romantic advances and flirtations from media, what with the whole B necklace given to Tim. And I was thinking that romance novels and movies/shows were probably the only actual portrayals of romance that he was exposed to because his parents weren't exactly lovey dovey and quite frankly they seem like they don't want to be together at all.

This is something that I personally experience actually, so maybe it's a little bit of projection speaking here. But either way I wanted to think about Bernard seeing things in a romantic subtext in full for the first time and it jumpstarting him reading romance novel after romance novel to get a glimpse of what love is supposed to be, how others see it and show it. So now he has a very.... special way of communicating his adoration for people. Like the freak he is (the theatre electives didn't help any either, I'm sure.)

Bernard: "Do you ever think about how the curve of your neck and the dip of your collar bone is moulded perfectly for the sole intent of cradling the head of another?"

Tim: "Is this your way of asking for cuddles?"

Bernard, already making grabbing hands: "Absolutely. Come here."

Bernard: "How completely and utterly tragic it is that in life, death is a guarantee but love isn't."

Tim: "Sunbear, we are not taking that rabies-infested raccoon you found in a dumpster behind the bar home to my houseboat and your apartment doesn't allow animals. It was frothing at the mouth, Bernard."

Bernard: "My heart is broken, I will never love again. I bared my pried open ribs to you only to have it clawed at by your very hands."

Tim:

Bernard: (⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)

Tim:

Tim: "... I'll look into domesticated options for you. It can run around the docks and you can train it to chase your dad."

Bernard: "So this is the warmth through the trees in the deepest darkest depths of winter that poets spoke of. To be known so intimately and cherished so dearly! I could faint."

Tim, rolling his eyes fondly: "If you do, I won't catch you."

Bernard: "Nevermind fuck you actually."

Tim: "I love you too "

Bernard, laying upside down on a sofa with Tim sitting on the floor next to his head and reading: "If cannibalism is synonymous with wanting everything of your lover to the point of consumption, the greed of taking in all they have to offer in willingness or not- even flesh and blood and scraps–"

Tim, typing away on his laptop: "Morbidly curious on where this is going."

Bernard: "Shh, let me finish! I was just wondering how you would taste. What would you prefer to be seasoned with? I'd personally like to be flavoured with honey-glaze, or maybe lemon pepper? Garlic?"

Tim: "Well since humans taste like swine, I supposed there'd need to be a complementary flavour profile. You'd be sweet, and I'd be something distinctly Umami, so I'd settle for smoked or roasted? With paprika."

Bernard: "I love you so much."

Bernard, spoken off-handedly while grocery shopping: "If ever you were to die, I'd harden your heart into stone with calcium and keep it in a case so that I carry you with me always."

Tim, staring longingly at a 30pk case of Monster: "And where is this coming from?"

Bernard: "My mom once read me Mary Shelly's biography as a bedtime story over the course of a week. She carried her husband's heart in her purse after his passing when he drowned in the ocean and his heart didn't turn to ash after his cremation so she snatched it out."

Tim: "Beatrice, frankly, scares me. And I love you too, darling."

Bernard, lying in bed next to Tim and staring at him:

Tim, sighing and rolling over to face him: "Honeybear?"

Bernard, fidgeting with a pillow: "Being near you is like being in a vacuum."

Tim: "That's a new one. Do you want to elaborate?"

Bernard: "It feels like I'm drowning in everything and nothing and like my chest is caving in. It makes me feel heavy and light, it feels like a contradiction. Loving you hurts in a way I'm not used to hurting. It doesn't feel like sacrifice. It makes me feel safe. I don't know if I'm saying this right, it's hard to articulate."

Tim, pulling Bernard close and pressing his nose into his hair: "I know, I understand, Bear. Intrinsically. I love you too."

#just bernard processing loving and being loved #and tims simple endeared acceptance of it #tim: i have no idea whatever the heck youre saying but i love you too honey #bernard: :D #wow this is a long ramble #they make me sick #i wrote this in my room in complete darkness and when my mom came in to turn on the light i hissed #like a vampire #she asked what i was doing and what was i suppsed to say??#writing dernaged yaoi???#that is exactly what i said btw #bernard dowd #tim drake #beatrice dowd #timbern #timber #tim drake x bernard dowd

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k3n-dyll · 2 months ago

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As a southerner whose family has a farm, I really do love to see how y'all have managed to romanticize southern farm life😭

All feeding the animals, fucking the buff butch farmhand in haybales and wearing cute overalls - none of the stench animal shit and pit sweat, none of the sweltering, humid weather, none of the confusion as to whether whats covering your jeans is in fact pig shit or mud, or having to watch the ground when you walk in fear of snakes/fire ant hills. Like slay mama, romanticize that old farm out in the sticks💅🏾

#lesbian #wlw #☆kennie's rambles #the fruits and veggies fresh from a farm are objectively just better tho yall always get that right #tlou2 #abby anderson #sevika arcane #arcane #i should get into writing farmer fics i have life experience #oh and i forgot to mention #slaughtering the animals for food!#yall wouldnt be able to process seeing a gutted rabbit strung up over a bucket😭

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nibbelraz · 2 months ago

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My very first and last complete fanfiction was smut. My parents found it and were going to read it out loud to me, and when I had to show it to them I deleted it and said I lost it.

Anyways imagine this scenario with Qijiu and their son Shen Yuan

#this could be the reason why i just never went into writing #but then i went into drawing so idk what the thought process was #anyways the ship was from attack on titan btw and i was in middle school #svsss #qijiu #yue qingyuan #shen jiu #shen yuan #nib rambles

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ghost-proofbaby · 8 months ago

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It's summer for you, winter for me. Warm me up with strawberry fluff! As always, my muse, your muse, the one and only, Eddie.

Midsummer's night, because I don't have a lot to inspire you with. I'm thinking something cute but weird? Maybe some human body softness where Eddie is a bit of a freak and we love him for it. And we're told our bodies are lovely, even when they're doing weird shit.

I lalalove youuuuu. xo Rhi

RHI!!!! <3 i adore you. thank you for this prompt - i had far too many ideas for it, but ended up on settling for this one, which coincidentally feels like the most subtle of them all? either way, it definitely turned out being the softest. give me an eddie munson who just wants to sniff me like a dog. this definitely got a bit long but i hope you enjoy, my dear <3

the smell of you

warnings: weirdos in love? idk. i have a skewed sense of what is actually weird i think. mentions of death and coffins jokingly. eddie 'manhandles' reader sort of. not edited.

wc: 2.2k+

come enjoy a sweet summer treat with me <3

“Eddie?”

The entire apartment is quiet – too quiet – as you drop your keys into the old crystal bowl on the counter. The clink resonates through the air, louder than the soft murmur of the stereo static you can hear from down the hall.

“You dead?” you call out again, slipping off your running shoes and tossing down your headphones onto the counter as well now, “Do I need to call the coroner?”

Your tone is lilted, teasing with airiness as you continue to wander deeper into the apartment and head straight for the room you know Eddie has to be in. Like the waves pulled by the moon, there’s an incessant string tied around one end of your soul that connects you to his, and you follow it all the way down the hallway. The bedroom door is wide open, and you can hear his mumbled yell of a response without clarity before you even cross the threshold.

You wouldn’t have even needed him to verbally respond to find him in this tiny apartment. You two could get separated on the streets of a bustling city, of a buzzing New York sidewalk, and you still wouldn’t properly lose him. It’s more than just soul ties and his gravity that keeps you pulled to him.

Something unspoken. Something homely.

“Sorry, what was that?” you hum as you spy him face-down in the bed, pillow muting him by the mouthful, “Say it one more time, and this time not into the pillow.”

When he finally properly turns over, he’s a vision. Sleep lines folded into his skin and a bit of drool in the corner of his mouth, eyes squinting in irritation not at you but the sunlight flooding in through the bedroom window. Messy hair, messy shirt, messy everything. A kind of mess you just want to collapse into currently, curling up in all that he is from the day’s exhaustion.

He’d mentioned wanting to take a nap before you’d left for the gym. Something about the summer heat draining him, trailing off as he’d rambled about how he’d probably thrive as a vampire.

“I said,” he huffs, sitting up, the frizz of his hair becoming a makeshift halo, “If you call the coroner, request the comfiest coffin possible.”

“Why do you need a comfy coffin if you’re already dead?”

“You dare deny me of being buried in tempurpedic memory foam? In my hour of need?”

You roll your eyes as you huff out a little laugh, forcing yourself to turn away from him long enough to strip out of your socks. But just as you reach down for the pieces of clothing, you catch sight of the source of that stereo static flooding the room.

Your shared record player, spinning a blood red pressing of one of your more recent vinyl purchases. The album has been played through, but the player no longer had an automatic stop mechanism, probably from years of use.

The center of the record is probably scratched, and Eddie knows it, from how sheepish he looks when you glance over your shoulder at him.

“Speaking of death,” you walk over quickly, purposefully, before carefully lifting the needle and cutting the static finally, “Care to explain why you’re burning scratches into my Momento Mori vinyl?”

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologizes, nearly flinging himself off the bed as he scooches quickly to the end, clearly fully awake now, “I put it on and thought I’d just lay down for a quick second, but then the bed was so comfy, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick nap, and then…” he trails off, looking up at you through his lashes with big eyes already pleading for forgiveness, “I’ll buy you a new one. Swear it.”

It’s impossible to be mad at him when he’s looking like this, inhumanely soft and easily forgiven, “You’re lucky you’re cute, or you really would be dead.”

He doesn’t respond with words, but instead the outstretch of his hands, fingers flexing as he beckons to you. The needle rests on its perch, the vinyl left behind to gather dust for a few extra moments, as you go straight to him.

When his palms slip beneath your old t-shirt and meet your skin, they’re pleasantly warm.

“You were right,” you admit as his knees spread, delegating even more room for you to stand in front of him as your hand wanders to cradle the side of his face, fingers tangling in sweaty curls from his rest. Your thumb mimics his on your own skin instinctively, tracing a large arch right up over his cheekbone, “It’s hot as balls outside.”

“Told you so,” he murmurs, smiling softly in satisfaction as he leans lazily into your touch.

“You did,” you agree quietly, half-entranced by his relaxed face, no sight of pride in the room currently.

He resembles a cat as he continues to preen under your gentle hand, and you almost expect him to start purring right before you find the strength to pull away, removing his hands from where they'd wandered to your lower back.

One swipe of his finger along your sweaty spine, and you’d remembered what your original intentions had been immediately upon getting home.

“Wai- Where are you going?” he’s seemingly brought back down to Earth the moment he loses the pattern your thumb had been tracing, the press of your fingertips into his scalp. When he reaches back out to latch onto you again, you take a step back, “Get back here-”

“I need to shower,” you laugh, shaking your head and smacking his hands away as he continues to barter, “I’m all sweaty and smelly, let me go clean up and then we can nap togeth-”

“You can shower after we nap,” he nearly whines, finally catching your shirt between his fingers and tugging, uncaring for if he stretches the fabric. A small price to pay to have you close to him, “C’mon, sweetheart. I know you’re just as exhausted as I am.”

You swear you meant to take another step backwards, but somehow, you end up back between his knees, “Did you not hear me, Munson? I stink.”

“Good.”

He doesn’t give you any time to react – in an instant, he’s throwing his face forward, burying it against your stomach as you let out a gasp and immediately try to pry him away with far too gentle of hands in his hair.

“Eddie!”

If it were anyone else, you’d probably be mortified. But Eddie just takes a dramatic deep breath in, nose buried just shy of your belly button, and when his shoulders start to shake with muted laughter, you can’t stop the smile from breaking. Your fingers are still twisted in his hair, still pulling back in an attempt to get him away from you, but he’s resilient.

And all your faux resistance is weak in comparison. Soon enough, you’re back to melting into him.

Only once you’re relaxed once more, no sign of trying to pull away again any time soon as his hands once more evade the space beneath your shirt to wander up and down your sticky skin without a care in the world, does he lift his face away from you long enough to breathe and speak, “I’ll have you know – I love your stink.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m your idiot.”

The game of banter is cut short when he goes back to pressing his nose into your clothes that surely can’t smell good. No amount of deodorant or perfume could erase that underlying stench of sweat. Hell, the shirt is still a bit moist from it all: from the walk to the gym, from your workout itself, from the walk home. It’d been through the ringer, and you’re back to tugging him away from you.

“I refuse to believe you like how gross I smell right now,” you reinforce, eyes darting towards the bathroom connected to your master bedroom, “I promise I’ll be quick with the shower.”

“Baby,” he fights back, wrapping his arms around you securely, no intention of losing this battle, “You remember that time we went to the fair, and you were complaining about how you were sweating, so I tried to lick your face?”

Your nose scrunches quickly at the memory, “I do, unfortunately.”

“You really think I’d be willing to lick the sweat off your body but be afraid of you smelling a little bad while we cuddle?” his shoulders drop as he looks up at you, head tilted, almost as if amused with the conversation, “What kind of man do you take me for?”

“The kind that gets off on annoying me.”

His jaw drops, putting on a fake look of offense before he dramatically throws himself back onto the bed, laying flat as he makes a fist to mimic stabbing his chest, “You wound me.”

You’ve heard those words a thousand times in a hundred different ridiculous voices. You’ve seen this scene enough to have it mesmerized at this point, down to the over-exaggerated pout of his lips and the lingering of the fist against his sternum.

You never grow tired of it. You never will.

“Need me to kiss it better?” you joke as you prop a knee up on the bed, following the same script as always.

And he hits his queue perfectly when he lifts his head eagerly at the expected response, wiggling his brows a bit. “Absolutely. Doctor’s orders, in fact.”

“Great,” you see an opportunity, and take it, “I’ll get right to it, after my showe-”

You don’t even get the final syllable of the word off your tongue before he’s clenching his thighs around your own, knees pressing hard before he wraps his legs the rest of the way around your waist to pull you in. A squeak of surprise leaves your lips as you begin to fall forward, but Eddie is quick to break the fall with ease. Catching you with his eager hands, maneuvering for you to half drop to the mattress while some of you still lands atop of him.

He has you right where he wants you, turning his head to be face to face with you, noses nearly brushing, “Unfortunately, the doc said you have to kiss it better now, or else you’ll be comfy coffin shopping.”

“A fatal wound?” you gasp, nearly mocking him. It doesn’t offend him – if anything, his boyish grin only grows wider, “First, I’m smelly-”

“Again, I like when you’re smelly.”

“-And then I inflict a fatal wound upon my lover? Oh, how dare I.”

Slowly, all your insecurity of how you currently smell is simply fading. The entire ordeal has become an art of childlike, whimsical jokes – and Eddie is an artist. A professional at the dance, locked and loaded with his incomparable skill set equipped for disarming you this way. The ability to make someone feel loved, imperfections and weirdness aside.

He likes you, even when you claim you don’t smell your best. And you like him, even when his hair is tangled beyond recognition and one of his socks is half-hanging off his foot from a nap.

You like him when he’s embarrassing you in public, tongue chasing after you with the threat of licking your sweat away, and he likes you when all you can do in response is a weak palm to his chest (that isn’t even making an effort to push him away) as you giggle relentlessly.

You like each other on the good days, the bad days, the weird days.

Disarmed entirely, you don’t even notice when his face conveniently slots itself far too close to your armpit as you two scooch further up into the bed. You’re more occupied with the way your legs tangle up, toeing each other’s socks off properly as he slings a heavy arm across your torso.

“We’re gonna have to wash the sheets,” you mumble, exhaustion catching up as the two of you finally settle.

He hums absentmindedly, nuzzling into your skin a bit further as he makes himself comfortable. “And wash away your sweet, sweet stink? I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you laugh, unbothered as your fingers start to trail up and down his back over the t-shirt, smoothing out wrinkles along the way, “I’m serious. We need to change them soon anyways, I think I got crumbs in the bed the other night with those crackers.”

“Bury me in the crumbs of all your midnight snacks,” he almost slurs, clearly drifting back off.

You snort in response, relaxing and letting your own eyes shut. Matching all your deep breaths with his own, a million different last words crossing your mind to whisper to the boy you’re sure is once again asleep.

I love you.

I adore you.

I would like to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me.

And maybe some of those unspoken thoughts slip out without you realizing, because he squeezes you just a little bit tighter, presses his face just a little bit deeper into your skin as his scruff tickles you.

The only actual thought you can know for certain that you say, though, is, “Do you think they actually make coffins with memory foam inside?”

To your surprise, even despite the almost-snores that had been escaping him, he answers in a heartbeat.

“Oh, definitely. We’ll order two.”

#ghost's stories #summertime sweetness #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #peep me making fun of myself in there about the way i constantly like to write him doing the whole mock stabbing himself thing #i just want to find me an eddie munson to be so comfortable with that afternoons like this would be a regular thing ya know #give me a man who likes my stink #a man who offers to order us matching tempurpedic coffins #i don't think that's how you spell that word if i'm being completely honest #it's canon in my head the two of you would go 'coffin shopping' just cause you both wanna know what it's like to lay in one #also in my process of brainstorming and writing this i realized i really do not understand the concept of being weird because #halfway through writing this #i questioned if it was even weird/weird enough?#this doesn't feel weird to me this just feels like the normal progression of getting comfortable in a relationship #it was this or eddie being unbothered by sounds of indigestion or however you spell it #ANYWAYS im rambling my bad <3 #i hope i made you proud rhi!! <3

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doubletroubletag · 1 month ago

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i got almost all the next month's updates sketched! i'm not doing the last one simply because i am feeling the burn out of composing these pages. (each have at least 6 pages, a good amount have the max 12!)

that said, these are all just sketched. i want to do it in this order: backgrounds -> lineart -> transcript. i got other projects i need to work on (winning hat and NightFell) so I can't really guarantee when Tag will start to update again.

#ooc #for context i do have all the story beats planned aside from one specific character arc which i'm unsure what to do for yet #but otherwise i know who gets the focus where and what would loosely be discussed when #so tag is in a good spot writing wise but the loose nature of it makes scene to scenes both free and fun to make BUT #also makes me unsure of where its going and i won't really get the full sense of the scope of a scene until after the fact #for example this month of updates were planned at work so i had a detailed outline in mind but even that got like reworked as i made it.#for extra contrast on the scale of planning vs no plans #nightfell is meticulously planned and then created and then scrapped and reworked over and over and thats the whole process #meanwhile winning hats i have like. a loose character arc in mind for each character and a big scene or two in mind.#but thats it. each chapter i'll have some ideas spawned from making the previous but anything goes when making the chapter itself #so like in THEORY i love planning and i fully embrace it and think its so so so so important.#with AFR i benefited heavily when i planned things in detail! made a world of difference! but with these ISAT projects they work better on #the fly? maybe its the comedy nature maybe its me enjoying how idk whats going to happen just as much as the audience its like #idk its like im a fan of my own work so i get to enjoy it the same way the audience does lol. its fun #SORRY BUT IM NOT ACTUALLY SORRY FOR RAMBLING IM BEING POLITE ABOUT IT

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definitelynotshouting · 7 months ago

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Through the Looking Glass, Darkly

Summary:

“... Alright!” Impulse’s voice echoes over itself in a multi-layered choir, bouncing off half-ragged walls and burrowing in amongst the sculk. “Well, she could definitely use a bit of an updo, but… yeah! Here it is!” At the center of Forgery's former lair, ravenous fingers have already punched their way into stone, scrawling up the vaulted walls in strange, fungal swoops—letters without language, glyphs without meaning. Hemmed in by something akin to thick, yellow limestone, the malignant mixture in the cistern below them undulates in time with every echo—and when Gem peers into it, locks her gaze with that yearning abyss, her skin begins to crawl. Impulse had called it the Catalyst. Gem calls it for what it really is: Hungry.

[ START | PREVIOUS | NEXT ]

[ MERCH ] [ MISC ]

Hey gang!! Today's posting day for my solo piece for @hotguycomiczine, so here it is!! I hope you guys enjoy it, ive worked super hard not just on the fic but also on the formatting and picture that ive made to go along with it!!! 💀💀💀💀 yeah i uh. i edited and then drew over that to make it look like sculk. yeah i did that all on my phone last night. you can imagine how bad my neck hurts right now

as always, reblogs are deeply appreciated, and comments on ao3 or in the tags will earn you my undying gratitude and also this free sculk sample over here shhhh dont question it just take it<3 i hope you guys like the new formatting style im trying out, and of course the fic itself!! enjoy!!! :DD

#geminitay #pearlescentmoon #impulsesv #impulse #hermitcraft #hotguy comics zine #mcyt #mcyt fic #hgcz #fanfic #shouting speaks #I WANT TO RAMBLE ABT MY WRITING CHOICES BUT ON GODS THE ENTIRE POSTING PROCESS HAS TAKEN ME.#AND IM NOT EVEN EXAGGERATING HERE. A FULL 4 HOURS #im losing my mind ive been fighting for my life in the image editing trenches 😭😭😭😭😭#so im not looking at this anymore it is here neow<3 godspeed go my scarab etc etc etc #mwah mwah hope u guys like this i put SO much effort into it #my fics #lnk

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lockheed-martin-unofficial · 2 months ago

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Some exercises to get to know an oc!

PART TWO!!!!!

1. “dad lore” they’ll off handedly mention once at breakfast and never elaborate on

2. Speech patterns (accents, overused words or phrases, etc)

3. Halloween: low, mid, high effort costumes

4. Your badassest voice lines for the character

5. If they were a cereal, what would they taste like? Describe the packaging while you’re at it.

6. This one’s a little more inconvenient. Take the nearest book, open a random page and look until a line catches your eye that reminds you of them in the slightest. Elaborate. Or not, I’m not a cop.

7. BOOM, they’re in a video game now. And there’s a quest (or several) related to them. What are they called?

8. Something you’re convinced they could speedrun (Doesn’t have to be a game, could just be laundry!)

9. Being sick. How do they handle it? Does anyone help them?

10. Catchphrase/voice line from another piece of media that reminds you of them!

11. Your oc is a prime now. It doesn’t matter if they’re not from Transformers, look it up. They’re a prime, give them a name and tell me about them. Tag me (lockmart unofficial) if you answer this one, I wanna know too. (In fact, tag me in any of your answers if you’d like. I’m interested!!)

12. What would be a GREAT gift for them?

13. Song that would play during their first introduction to the audience.

14. Please make memes that only you know the lore context for.

15. Out of context text messages from them

16. Bumper stickers.

Again, send me asks regarding oc’s OR characters from other media.

Feel free to spam, and feel free to repost! Have fun!

#oc exercises #oc #oc ideas #oc questions #writing exercise #ask game #writing process rambling #art block #artblock #anti art block #relatively low effort

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alltheyearsblog · 3 months ago

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Friendly reminders;

You don’t suck at your passion.

We’re all learning all the time, even the “professionals”.

It’s hard not to, I know, but don’t compare your work against other people’s with thoughts like “They’re better.” Taking inspiration? Beautiful. Learning from others through observation? Amazing. But saying you are peon against a royal? Nah bruh. We all are running at our own paces and all have something amazing to share.

If it is a bad creative day, trying eating a little food and drinking water. It’s also ok to go do something completely different. Sometimes your brain needs a video game session. You aren’t lazy for doing that.

Create for yourself first, others second. ❤️

#al rambles #it’s been a bad few art days #I’m preaching to myself #create #art #write #creative process #gentle reminder

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okthatsgreat · 1 year ago

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rewording a post i made a while ago just bc it was a bit nonsensical but something that definitely needs to be examined in the danganronpa fandom is how a lot of characters seem to be interpreted through one single lens of intelligence. does that make sense. like in order for a character to be “smart” in this fandom they SPECIFICALLY need to be book smart and well spoken, regardless of their talents. we gotta shape up guys .. examining other types of intelligence is FASCINATING and really highlights each characters strengths and weaknesses, and this especially applies to emotional intelligence.

like is byakuya smart? absolutely. but is he emotionally intelligent? fuck no!!!! and aoi used that against him in chapter four!!!!!!!! and even though she is misguided as all hell, tenko has the ability to understand her opponent mid-battle and use that to determine how she continues the fight (likely something other fighting ultimates do as well!!!) which is crazy. mikan is able to read facial expressions well, even if she IMMEDIATELY misinterprets this as something she personally did wrong lol. these characters navigate through the killing game differently and in some cases survive because of it, and if you want something interesting to write on it’s definitely something to be examined!!!

also straight up sometimes the fandom interprets characters who don’t speak super formally/are optimistic as dumb too which is so strange. more of the “buff” talents like mondo and fuyuhiko need to understand battle tactics and serious team management/planning in order to get anywhere in their field, but are pushed aside quite a bit because theyre these super gruff macho characters that swear a bunch. sonia as well because she's a fish out of water type of character. and yes he isn’t very well spoken and is very trusting but gonta is an actual scientist guys… i could make a whole separate post about this weird trend of pessimism being seen as smart and optimism as stupid but yeah seriously

anyways all this to say, when writing for a “dumb” character take a step back and ask just what makes them dumb in your eyes. is it because they aren’t considered academic or a scholar?? is it because they’re a “happier” character that might not be as well-spoken?? theres nuance there and this obviously doesn't apply to all of them, like clearly akane isnt super good with emotions or smarts in general, but even THEN her spacial awareness and heightened sense of perception is something that is often under-utilised in fics!! it provides a whole lot of depth to remember that a lot of danganronpa characters are very talented and well versed in other forms of intelligence than what might be most obvious !!!!!

#nurse shes rambling about the murder video game again #but goddddd this is why i love writing from a bunch of different povs. theyre all so wildly different and interpret the world through very #different thought processes #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #lee chat

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