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#and will answer some asks and stuff

becca-e-barnes · 8 months

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Ma’am, you are deviously incredible 🔥 We’re begging for an exploration of him saying “I love you” while fucking her like he doesn’t 🥹

My brain keeps picking up the storyline a few splendidly torturous hours in when her body’s completely spent & quivering & she’s a blubbering mess & that’s when he picks her up & takes his sweet time positioning her so she can limply yet eagerly watch their reflection has he finally gives her… exactly what her twitching body’s been craving. 🥵

I'm so glad you all enjoyed the thought of this as much as I did because I've been dying to expand on it 😵‍💫 (Part 1 here)

I like to imagine by that stage, he's absolutely desperate too though. He's got to feel your sweet little pussy clench and flutter around him, contracting so tight every time you cum that he swears it's going to be the end of him.

He's been too hard for too long, buried inside your body and he swears he's never felt you this wet or this hot before. It's been fucking luxurious, forcing you to cum against his fingers, feeling how your body's natural reaction is to coax him to drain his balls into you but that alone isn’t enough. He needs more than that.

He wouldn't admit it to you but he can't take any more. His balls feel like they're fizzing; overfull and beyond ready to flood your waiting, overstimulated body.

He arranges you gently, laying you on your front because he doesn't trust your trembling arms to support you. "That's it, good girl." He coos, hearing you whimper and sob pathetically because he needs to slip out of you to slide a pillow under your hips.

"You've made such a mess." He groans, taking a second to appreciate the delicious, inviting, slick little cunt he's about to indulge in. "You're dripping, sweetheart. God, I just know there's no way I'm going to be able to pull out."

His huge hands are gripping your hips and with one sharp, brutal thrust, he's back inside you and you both sob pathetically at the feeling of your bodies being joined again. This is exactly what you've needed but you don't have the words to tell him that. All you can do is whine and will your body not to cum again so soon.

"I meant. What I said earlier." He punctuates his sentence with soft groans, drawing back until he almost slips out of you before pounding back in.

He leans forward, tilting your chin up, making sure you can see the way he's fucking you in the mirror at the end of the bed.

"I love you. And I don't want you to forget that." He sounds sincere, one hand trailing up from the small of your back to right between your shoulder blades and then back down again. It feels intimate and tender but all that is forgotten by the very next thrust.

"I love you. But for now, you're just a mindless. Little. Drooling. Breedable. Cunt for me." He slows his thrusts down, determined not to cum so soon but it's going to be difficult to last until he gets the first couple of loads out of the way.

"Baby..." You whimper, feeling the tip of his cock nudge against your sweet spot, making you shake from overstimulation.

"I know sweetheart, I know. It's too much. But you're being so good for me. You're so perfect. How have no idea how you feel. So wet and warm and I can feel you fluttering around my cock. It's like you're trying to squeeze every last drop of cum out of me. Is that what you want? Because angel, I'll keep this delicious cunt stuffed full of load after load until I have nothing left to give you."

His thrusts are punishingly fast, thumping against your raised ass, half chasing his orgasm, half holding it back.

"And when I do, I'll remind you just how much I love you. And the baby I'm going to give you tonight."

With that thought, he can't stop himself from cumming, his dick twitching inside you as he shoots thick ropes of his seed right against your cervix. You're so cock-drunk you can only rut yourself millimetres back and forth but that's all you need to send yourself spiralling into another orgasm that leaves you trembling and sobbing.

"Fuck, you want that as much as I do, don't you?" He kisses the back of your neck, breathing you in while letting the euphoric rush subside. He notices he hasn't softened in the slightest despite such an intense orgasm but he knows he needs to be gentle with you for a moment before he can get any rougher.

#asks answered <3 #becca writes spice #anon #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #needy!bucky #please no one think this is what a healthy relationship is like #but this really really does something for me #the level of nasty in me for someone who'd say stuff like that is truly endless #I'll be the ✨freakiest ✨wife for someone some day #but for now I've fallen in love with the eviee sendal Doc Martens #and I can't do that #because I know if I get them I'm going to feel way too hot #and that would be dangerous for everyone tbh

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save-the-villainous-cat · 2 months

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Goofy and erratic villian with an exasperated and somewhat uptight hero who has a crush on the villain? Maybe the villain says something vaguely flirty on accident and the hero has to pretend they don’t like it (and fails miserably)

“Come on.” The villain grabbed the hero’s hands and pulled them towards the dance floor. Eyes glinting, excitement filled up the villain. “Fight me.”

Utterly unimpressed, the hero just rolled their eyes.

“No interest.”

“That’s not very diplomatic of you. Refusing the enemy’s suggestion to resolve our issues? Come on, it’ll be fun. Just a little bit of combat.” They pulled the hero close, grip tight around them as they led the hero through the song. “Or are you scared?”

“We’re calling combat ‘resolving issues’ now?” Their eyes went through the crowd, concentrating. Professional. Obviously, the hero didn’t have time for their nemesis but the villain didn’t care.

At this point, they took whatever fell into their hands. The hero was a master at hiding, at avoiding people and the villain was not going to let them slip through their fingers that easily.

“It’s like couples therapy for crazy people, don’t you think?” the villain asked. They tried to redirect the hero every time they spotted the supervillain among the many millionaires.

Admittedly, the villain had been on their hands and knees when they’d discovered that the hero was going to be here. They’d begged the supervillain to take them with them and thank god, the villain had been assigned to distract the hero.

It was their favourite activity.

“I can’t argue with that, I suppose.” The hero shrugged. “I am not interested in making a scene, though.”

“But it’s so much fun...” Again, the villain pulled them closer, staring through half-lidded eyes at that heroic face.

One time, the hero’s hard shell had cracked in front of the villain. Ever since, the villain tried to crack it again, not because they wanted to torment the hero but because they needed the hero to know that being imperfect and vulnerable was normal.

The hero forgot that they were human sometimes.

“You’re aware that I am going to crush you like a beetle, right?”

And the villain had seen other people lose their mind to that.

“Oh, I’d love that, baby,” the villain answered. The hero’s face remained emotionless.

“If you think that you can distract me with your cheap tricks, then you’re blithely unaware of the fact that I am the best in this business.”

The hero tried to get out of the villain’s grip but the villain knew the supervillain wasn’t done with their investigation yet. So, the villain had to get creative.

“I know you’re the best, that’s why I want to fight you again. Gives me a kick.” The villain brushed the hero’s ear with their lips. “It feels good.”

“Ugh, you’re annoying.” The hero grabbed the villain’s jaw and turned their head away from them. The villain had to giggle at that.

However. The villain also caught a glimpse of their red ears.

The hero was embarrassed.

“Come on, grumpy…you love me.” They couldn’t help but smirk. Annoying the hero was a hobby the villain would never be able to let go of. Sometimes, they committed a crime just for the hero to show up.

“I’m wasting my time with you.”

Unfortunately, the villain spotted their superior. Giving them a sign to go back to the lair.

“You mean you’re having fun,” they mumbled.

The hero was quiet and looked (as usual) quite dissatisfied as they let the villain guide them. They didn’t seem to be passionate about dancing at all. They didn’t seem to loathe it, either.

“Let me invite you on a date, then. You. Me. Tomorrow. Bring your best weapon,” the villain said. They squeezed the hero’s hip, making the other’s eyes widen and somehow, the hero seemed much more human with their red face and their avoidant gaze.

Almost as if they did like the villain after all.

The villain could live with that, though.

#man I don’t know #You’re also blithely unaware of the fact that in 2002 Oscar de la Renta did a collection of cerulean gowns and then I think it was #Yves Saint Laurent wasn’t it? who showed cerulean military jackets…I think we need a jacket here. and then cerulean quickly showed up #in the collection of 8 different designers. then it filtered down through the department stores and then trickled down into some tragic #casual corner where you no doubt fished it out of some clearance bin #however that blue represents millions of dollars of countless jobs and it’s sort of comical how you think you’ve made a choice that #exempts you from the fashion industry when in fact you’re wearing a sweater that was selected for you by the people in this room #from a pile of ‘stuff’#writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

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ohbo-ohno · 5 months

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Hi, I love your writing so so so so so much and it's like my goal in life to get as good as writing as you, but I was just wanting to ask if you would write a ghoap puppy play drabble but with a ftm reader, I don't wanna make you uncomfortable but I actually can't find any puppy play stuff with a ftm reader in it and I would literally worship the ground you walk on if you did (if you don't feel comfortable doing this please don't)

yknow i dont take requests but you're actually the sweetest person alive (and i want to write puppy play rn) so sure!!! tysm for such kind words <3 (also your goal should be to get 10x better than me but i love you anyway)

1.8k of ghoap x ftm!reader with puppy play :) words used for reader's genitalia are cunt, hole, and cock (also reader is called pretty once)

It's a struggle not to beg, but you're a good boy. You stay still on your knees, paws resting on the wood below you, and you focus all of your attention on staying good.

Johnny's not good. Johnny's never a good boy, and usually that's a blessing for you, but right now it's a curse.

A whine slips from your lips, unintentional but loud. You lick your lips, swallow, and try to settle. Still, you've drawn Ghost's attention.

His hand stills in the air and he cocks an eyebrow. "Need somethin', pup?"

You lick your lips beneath the wire muzzle, shake your head. You don't need anything, you only want his hands on you. Simon's the only one who decides what you want.

He lands another smack against Johnny's bared ass, and the other pup wriggles on his lap, eyes screwed up - in pain or pleasure, you can't tell.

"Look'it him," Ghost rumbles, grabbing Johnny by the mohawk and forcing him to look at where you're knelt several feet away. "He's gotta wait for his turn because you can't remember how to be good. That seem fair?" He shakes Johnny's head for him, and you catch him smirk when Johnny whines. "You'd be barkin' and howlin' like I'd fuckin' shot you if your positions were reversed, but he's sitting there, nice and pretty."

You shift on your knees, padded hands tapping the floor in an effort to expel any of your energy. You pant with your mouth wide open, keep your eyes locked on Ghost, trying to ignore the clenching of your hole on nothing but air.

"Poor puppy," Ghost coos, voice edging into that part-affectionate part-condescending tone that makes you drip. "Having to watch me punish Johnny, when you should be getting all my attention. Is not fair, is it?"

That's a trick question, you know it. Anything Simon decides is fair, that's how this works, and you know intuitively that there's no right answer.

You whine, then yip, leaning forward a bit.

He laughs, letting go of Johnny's head and delivering another blow, this one making Johnny wail from behind his own muzzle.

"Little longer, pup," Ghost calls over Johnny's cries, every smack nearly as loud. "Just keep bein' good for me."

You can't help your noises as you watch Johnny's punishment, but you don't move. Your hips rock against the air, but you don't try and push your paws against your cock, don't try and get yourself off without permission.

You're good, you're a good boy. Ghost said so.

You try to keep your breathing even, try to keep yourself away from that cliff-edge of desperation that can get you in trouble, but it's almost impossible with the show you're watching

Johnny's face is red, streaked with tears as he takes his punishment. His thighs and ass are the same shade of red, and the cock hanging between Ghost's spread knees matches too. He's kept hard by the black cock ring at his base, but you know he doesn't need it. His feet kick and push at the couch cushions to no avail, his mitted hands punching and pushing at the arm of the couch.

He's more muted than you, his muzzle a thick leather instead of wire, but you can still hear the way he cries. Johnny's always been loud, and he's not shy about voicing his displeasure.

Eventually, Simon begins to slow his strokes, the sound of his slaps becoming quieter and the time between each one lengthening. Johnny's cries quiet to sniffles, and you shift forward even more, knowing what's coming.

You just barely manage to hold back a whine.

"See?" Ghost rumbles, stroking up and down Johnny's sweat-slick back. "You're alright, hush now. You bring it on yourself, Johnny. Wouldn't need a punishment if you could behave more than five minutes."

His eyes shift up to yours, and you can't bite back the whine this time. Ghost smiles at you as he shifts Johnny from his lap to the floor.

"Nothing like you, huh pup?" He raises a hand, motions you forward, and you're quick to crawl to him. You shove your head into his hand, melting into the scratches through your hair. Soap stays hunched on the floor next to you, head resting on Ghost's knee as he catches your breath.

"Yeah, you're my well-behaved puppy. Nothing like the mutt, hm?" You lean further into his hand, smiling when he chuckles and gives you the pets you desperately want. "My well trained pure-bred, hm? Maybe I should enter you in shows, let everyone see how perfect you are."

Johnny whines from next to you, digging his face further into Ghost's knee. Simon scoffs, but pets him too.

"Nah, couldn't do that with you, mutt. You'd embarrass me just for the punishment." His words are mean but Ghost's tone is soft, and Johnny's eyes nearly roll back in his head at the soft scratches to his scalp. "But you'd be jealous if he got all the attention, wouldn't you?" Ghost sighs, then uses his hands to push the both of you in so your muzzled cheeks are pressed together. "Guess I'll have to keep you all for myself."

Despite your own arousal, it's not too difficult for you to sit and wait while Ghost coaxes Johnny out of his punishment-headspace. It's nice to float in the softness, so rare with the three of you, and you're content with Ghost's hand on your head.

Eventually, he moves away.

"Alright, you want your treat, pup?"

You blink hazy eyes open, shifting to try and follow his hand with a whine. He smiles at you, and grabs you by the nape of the neck to guide you more fully between his legs.

"C'mon, don't you want a reward for bein' a good boy? I think Johnny deserves one too, for takin' his punishment so well."

Soap is quicker to perk up than you, quickly crawling so he's behind you. Realizing what's going on, you sit up more fully on your knees and brace your paws on Ghost's thighs, looking up at him and smiling.

"Pretty thing," he coos. "Don't worry, you'll get to come. Johnny." He snaps, the sound loud right next to your ear. "Go on. Mount him."

Johnny doesn't have the self-control to give you time to adjust, or to go slowly. One minute you're empty and aching, the next you're stuffed to the brim and stretched wide around Johnny's cock.

You both moan, and you feel the leather of his muzzle bump against your naked shoulder. You melt into the space between Ghost's thighs, eye-level with his cock tugged out of his pants as Johnny fucks you without giving you any time to adjust.

You whine loudly, eyes screwing shut at the near painful drag of his cock in and out of your hole. It's good to be filled, satisfying an ache that you've been fighting for what feels like hours, but your body can't help but fight the intrusion, pushing you further up on your knees and making you look up at Ghost for comfort.

He only smirks and pets a hand through your hair as Johnny snarls at your attempt to get away, paws landing on your shoulders and pushing you down into his ruthless thrusts. He snarls at your yelp, wide even behind the muzzle.

"You're alright," Ghost says, hand guiding your head to rest on his inner thighs. "We both know you like it rough, pup, be a good boy and let Johnny give you what you need."

He's right, Ghost is always right, and it doesn't take long for the sharp stretch to turn to pleasure, for the heavy drag of Johnny's cock in and out of you to leave you moaning instead of whining.

You pant with an open mouth, tongue lolling out to rest on your tongue as you try and breathe through the fucking, brain scrambled. Johnny's just as loud behind you, snarls and grunts and moans slipping through the leather as he bullies himself inside of you.

"There ya go, good boy," Ghost rumbles, giving you a solid pat. "Both of you, my two good boys. You're fuckin' him so good, Johnny, giving him such a good treat."

You work your hips against Johnny, pushing back in search for more pleasure, and whine high in your throat when it's still not enough.

"Y'need more, puppy?" Ghost asks, and you nod yes as vigorously as you can with your whole body being rocked in place.

"Here," he grunts as he shifts, moving one leg between your thighs and pressing his boot against your cock. You melt at the sensation, shoving yourself up and grinding against the strings. Your cries are almost deafening as Johnny's thrusts don't falter, the combination of stimulation heavenly.

"Go on, get yourself off. You've earned it."

You don't last long after that. You work your hips against his boot, the texture rough but perfect against your slick and swollen cock, sensitive hole still pounded mercilessly by Johnny. You feel insane with pleasure, eyes rolled back in your head and drool slipping endlessly down your chin as you let yourself drown in in.

You clench hard around Johnny when you finally come, cunt clenching him and milking him for all he's worth. He howls from behind his muzzle, pressing his face along your neck. You know if his mouth was free he'd be marking you, sucking bruises into your skin and covering you in his spit. You almost whine at the lack of it.

But you're far too drenched in your own euphoria to miss anything, really, your only focus on pushing yourself to higher heights of pleasure.

You float down, eventually, but you're immediately thrown into overstimulation as Johnny's pace continues exactly as it was. He continues to pound into your mercilessly, the sound of your slick shameful in the quiet room.

You paw in a panic at Ghost's thighs, looking up at him with wide eyes as you press closer to try and get away from the cock rearranging your insides. He only smirks and presses his boot up, the pressure against your cock so soon after an orgasm absolute torture.

"Let Johnny have his treat now," he scolds lightly, giving you a slight tap to your cheek that has you trying to nuzzle yourself into the crease between his thighs and hip. "Maybe he'll manage to get off, even with that pretty ring on his cock. Let's let him try, hm?"

You look up at him with vision blurred by tears, whining as you balance the sharp edge of pleasure-pain from Johnny's minstrations.

Ghost only smirks, petting you again. "Hang tight, pup. Be a good boy for me, let our other boy have his fun."

You whine, and bury your face next to his cock, trying to breathe evenly as Johnny only drives himself more and more insane inside your cunt.

#i really don't mind writing male reader stuff it's just not my default with cod for some reason #but i never imagine myself as my reader-inserts so it doesn't change much for me lol #asks and answers #ghoap x reader #ghoap x male reader #male reader #bo writes

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canisalbus · 5 months

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Wait, holdup, these dogs have LORE?!??

Is there somewhere that we can read the outline of the full story?

The dogs have lore, I'm just bad at making it accessible and easy to follow. I'm not a writer so the thought of actually typing down this stuff and keeping track of it in a concise way feels intimidating, to put it mildly.

#I think the people who are best up to date with the dogs' comings and goings are those who have been following me for several months #or years even #and read my asks and tags actively because that's where I hide the story detail ramblings #sorry I get asked about this stuff often and I really should put together some kind of lore depository #I just don't know how to go about it #I wish I knew how to write fiction #anonymous #answered

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chubs-deuce · 3 months

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Okay but Charlie angrily ranting to Alastor is like

Fanfic come to life

Not trusting him but also totally trusting him enough to express her feelings. I know she expresses her feelings to like... everyone haha, but being fully aware HOW Alastor is and still going "Imma pour my heart out to this man about all this stress I'm going through even tho I'm angy"

RIGHT

I'm not gonna lie, I was so genuinely shocked to see just how close that scene got to what fics have been writing them like for years???

The difference between the two however is that in fics we usually know what exactly his goals are, or at least have an inkling of an idea sdkjhsdkjfh

Right now, we are technically clueless, maybe the Lilith-sent-him theory is true and this genuinely is for Charlie's greater good?

But I do think it's way more likely that he's subtly priming her to strike a deal... That's at least where the vibe seems to be atm.

I'm thinking maybe this could also be a thing where Lilith is actually the one pulling the strings and just lets Alastor be the tool through which her plan is executed?

The way things are going, and with the other teaser fragments we have, it seems like heaven and hell will be gearing up for a full on rebel war of some kind - something Lilith has (if my memory serves me right) been vaguely implied to strive for in the past, and it also tracks with her apparent introductory dislike of subservience.

EDIT: I have been informed that the string-puller could apparently also be Eve perhaps??? God I can't fucking wait to see how all of that unfolds

#charlastor #radiobelle #bc it's a shipping flavored post #hazbin hotel spoilers #media analysis #I know this ask wasn't geared towards theory stuff but I can't resist rolling some around my brain #my inner fnaf theorist has been dying to analyze and pick apart a new piece of media for too long #chubs answers

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paintalyx · 1 year

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explaining chainsaw man part 1: "you know, when you're 16 and also a boy it really does feel like every girl you try to talk to wants to murder you and like there are chainsaws shattering your body to bits every single day"

explaining chainsaw man part 2: "you know, when you're 16 and also a girl it really does feel like you can't take two steps without tripping and like the only person who wants to talk to you is the bloodthirsty demon possessing your body"

#my stuff #csm #chainsaw man #chainsaw man part 2 #csm part 2 #asa mitaka #denji hayakawa #chainsaw man is just an elaborate metaphor for puberty actually #someone asked me what csm was really about since i fanboy about it with my friends in the hallway every time a new chapter drops #and this was unironically my answer #i could probably churn out some semi serious meta on that if one hasn't been written already #if i only rub my remaining two shrivelled braincells hard enough to produce a coherent thought unrelated to college

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aibyoutachi · 7 months

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(yes inspired by me going thru the bbbh) to pair with ur excellent yosuke wears something of souji and it's too big comic--- souji trying to wear something of yosuke's and... :D?

my souyo headcanons have been specifically crafted to create the largest size difference possible between two guys that are 5cm apart in height

#uhh... i deleted that comic so i can't link it TwT #i'll reupload it + some other deleted stuff #anyways is this what you wanted... bancho in a tight shirt #i really like his expression here... actually i just generally like how this turned out which is a nice change of pace #my art #p4 #souyo #persona #answered ask

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tswwwit · 8 months

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Lol omg at your last ask because imagine dippers under some truth spell and ends up spilling a bunch of secrets that Bill already knew and had stashed to use for later

This is no longer 'last ask' relevant because I had this partially written in my drafts for like a million years - but a Truth spell on Dipper would be very interesting!

So I took this prompt and didn't really answer it except in some ways.

Here's a thing!

“You never bring me any souvenirs.” Bill complains. In an all-too-whiny tone, and an all-too-close lean into Dipper's personal space.

Plus, it's a blatant lie. One Dipper shouldn't respond to.

He does anyway. “I literally brought you harpy feathers last week.”

“Doesn’t count! That was for a ritual you wanted to pull off!” Bill sounds miffed, though he also plants a palm on Dipper’s head and starts ruffling hair. “Now where's the emerald from last March? Or like, the headdress from that cult with all the rabbit bones? The good stuff."

Dipper grunts. He focuses on navigating back out of the cave, turning the clay tablet over in his hands.

Figures Bill would remember all the times he did get something. His memory is excellent. And he’s greedy, because a new toy every time is a big ask.

What does Bill expect, anyway. Not every situation Dipper gets into has something to bring back. What could he even offer? An ear taken off every monster he has to fight?

Wait, no. Bill would love that.

Dipper makes a face. “You've just proved that it's not ‘never’. With examples."

"Sure, but when’s the last time it was cool?”

Dipper sighs. No point in arguing. Bill could go on forever about how 'unfair' it is that he doesn't get trophies from every trip, or trinkets from conquered lands, or, again, ears from every enemy. When he’s decided to complain, no reasonable argument will shake him out of it.

“Too bad, then. You’re only getting some gifts.” Dipper shakes his head rapidly to dislodge Bill’s hand from his hair. "It’s hardly the worst thing that’s ever happened to you."

“Hey! I could argue that it’s related! In fact -”

Dipper tunes out the rest of Bill’s ramble, rolling his eyes. Listening with half an ear to Bill's ongoing tirade about being a poorly kept man, and unappreciated in his time.

Despite how much he already has, Bill always wants more. Somehow he sniffed out Dipper’s latest excursion, showing up right at the end and looking for ‘loot’.

Which Dipper, by all rights, should prevent.

Anything magical falling into Bill's hands can cause chaos, no matter how innocuous it seems. The flower incident alone is reason not to hand Bill anything, ever, and the fact that Dipper still does sometimes should be appreciated, damn it.

Bill's complaining on and on, but whatever. Eventually he'll get bored.

In the meantime, Dipper turns the clay tablet around again with a frown. He found something interesting, at least.

Whatever this is, it’s definitely not a language he recognizes. The script is strange, scrawled in different directions. For all he knows he’s holding it upside down. He hopes Bill doesn’t notice until he’s figured out -

"Whatcha got there?" Just as expected - and right on time.

Dipper feels the tablet yanked out of his grasp, unfazed. He doesn't break his stride.

"I found it in the lair, after... you know." Charred bones, explosions - Dipper wishes he could use, like water, or something, but mastery over even one element is powerful as is. "Anyway, that monster was collecting a lot of weird magic stuff, and this was the only interesting thing it had." He shrugs. Then, because Bill will like it, adds, "So... to the victor go the spoils?"

“Now that’s the spirit!” Bill gives him a grin, holding the tablet up to squint at it. Thankfully not turning it around. One point for Dipper, on not looking incompetent.

Still, if anyone can read it…

“What language is this?” Dipper not-so-subtly leans over, trying to peek around Bill’s arm.

"Old Draconic," Bill says, without missing a beat. Humming to himself as he apparently reads the text. Perking up a bit, smile widening. "Oh, hey! Iambic pentameter."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing, sapling. I just wish when people did the whole 'ancient poetry curse' thing, they'd get a little more creative. You never see hexameter! Or tetrameter! Not even a tasteful use of spondee.” Bill sticks his tongue out. "Come to think of it - I don’t think anyone’s done a prose epic that made the reader wanna tear their eyes out since Joyce."

Sometimes with Bill, you have to read between the lines. The long, irrelevant babbling lines.

"Just tell me if I need to get Ford or not." Dipper says, flat. He rubs at the bridge of his nose.

Among all the other stuff, Bill said ‘curse’. Never, ever a good sign.

Though the monster he just took down wasn’t a dragon, and that wasn’t really a ‘horde’ so much as something resembling the contents of the Mystery Shack, there’s absolutely no good thing about a curse. If Dipper somehow triggered it -

Great. As if hanging around Bill alone didn’t invite enough bad fortune, he’s picking up parts of his own stupid curiosity.

"Nah, don’t bother with the loser uncle!" Bill waves his concern away, amused. “This is just purple prose! Buncha ‘oooh, bad things’ll happen if you mess with my stuff.’ Totally boilerplate spellcraft with some flowery wording.”

With a shrug, Bill dismisses the whole thing. Which includes chucking the tablet over his shoulder, but Dipper manages to snag it before it falls and shatters into a million pieces.

“Typical dragon horde enchantment. All bluster, no burning.” Bill keeps walking without a care in the world. “They’re full of hot air!”

“So I’m not cursed,” Dipper prompts, catching up to him. “Aside from you, I mean.”

“Flatterer,” Bill says, slightly warmer. He continues, shrugging. “No reason you would be! No dragons in the area, and the warning sign there’s too old. By my guess, the original horde was raided centuries ago! Just another piece of random crap that got dragged into that junkyard." And he ruffles Dipper’s hair again, in the second-most annoying way. "You’re stuck with me, though.”

Dipper ducks and twists, thus freeing himself from the minor torment. “I think I can live with that.”

One would think that chatting with a demon - one as cryptic and ominous and aggravating as Bill - would only cause irritation, at best.

It still does, of course. But when it comes to Dipper, Bill… sometimes lays things out straight. On occasion. Especially when he’s instructing, doubly when it comes to magic. Like he’s trying to pour all the facts he can into Dipper’s brain, overfilling the cup.

If his goal is to overload this one mortal mind, though, he'll have to work a lot harder.

Dipper gets out his notebook, while Bill looks away, and pretends he didn’t see it. Yet another poorly-veiled lesson, with Bill obviously trying to plant seeds re: actually casting curses. Tough luck managing that. His subtle lean towards chaos might escape the unwary, but to Dipper? Bill’s way too transparent.

The fact is, that Dipper absorbs things fast. Even Bill will admit it, sometimes without being prompted.

That Includes stuff Bill doesn't even know he's teaching.

Bill’s also rambling on about historical curses, and how often these things backfire, or misfire. It’d almost sound like a series of unconnected, gossipy anecdotes, if it weren’t for the extra technical details.

And Dipper’s not falling for it. As far as he's concerned, his first curse was his last one.

But then…

Even if he’s not going to use the knowledge, there's no reason not to learn it. Knowledge about making curses can also be used to break them, after all. Taking all the facts Bill smacked a ‘For Evil Purposes Only’ sticker on and using them to shatter an evil plan would be very satisfying.

They’re nearly out of the cave at this point, so Dipper figures it’s fine to let his guard down a bit. The monster's dead, all the traps were cleared out on the way in - everything should be fine.

He clicks his pen a couple times, and asks Bill to repeat that last thing, about the life drain. It gets a snort of amusement, but Bill’s more than happy to elaborate at length. Dipper struggles to keep up with Bill’s rapid-fire speech; he's trying to make this intentionally difficult, damn it.

Bill leads on with careless gestures and an uninterrupted stride. Getting ahead of Dipper by several meters, but Dipper’s got to note down what he says before he has to do something awful, like ask Bill to repeat himself.

Dipper is, in fact, so busy trying to write in shorthand, and walk, and not hit a stalactite with his face, all at the same time, that he sort of loses track of where he is.

And okay, maybe he trips over a rock slightly, and nearly faceplants, bonking against the sudden curve of a wall with a swear.

Dipper takes a step back, rubbing at his forehead. Annoying, but, whatever. There were a few traps around, but he pretty much cleared out the cave on the way in, so it’s probably - oh, hell.

Not fine, he dropped the stupid tablet.

Great. The only really interesting object, shattered into half a dozen pieces. So much from saving it from Bill; Dipper himself fumbled the bag.

He backs up to evaluate the damage -

The stone sinks under his foot, and something goes ‘click’.

With a start, Dipper raises a shield without thinking, arm jerking up as he wills his magic into the gesture. It's solid enough for something done on reflex, but an impact hits hard on his side, with sudden, stinging pain.

And a pretty hard impact, at that. He didn’t get it solid enough, damn it, wasn’t expecting something physical -

Dipper wheezes out a breath, slumping to the ground and clutching his stomach.

Alright. So. He got most of the traps.

He sits down, and lets his head thump back against the stone, teeth bared in a grimace. Stupid. Should have been paying attention.

The commotion makes Bill turn his head, blinking at Dipper sitting on the ground.

Then - because he’s an asshole - he starts laughing.

“I know I’m fascinating, sapling, but really?” He tuts, setting fists on his hips. “Not sure if I should be flattered that you’re obsessed with me, or disappointed that you’re dumb enough to walk right into a wall.”

Dipper sucks in a breath, gingerly touching his side. Doesn’t seem like - he glances down. Sure, it stings, and his shirt’s torn, a long, shallow cut on his stomach, just near the old scar. But that’s about it. Over to his side, an arrow rolls against the ground, stone head clicking against the ground.

Over by the cave mouth, Bill’s cackling. God, he’s a jerk sometimes.

But he must not have seen the trap set off, too wrapped up in his own stupid bullshit, or he’d be less of one. Dipper knows that for a fact. Though he’d really, really prefer he’d never had that experience.

“C’mon, kid. If you’re not even more brain damaged from your bump, let’s ditch this joint.” Bill jerks his head over his shoulder.

Dipper hugs himself around the torso, grimacing. Not bothering to respond. His heart is still pounding, or he’d have a retort ready. Adrenaline’s helped him out in a lot of situations, but not with talking. He’ll get up when he’s ready.

“What, you smash your skull open or something?” Bill raises one arch eyebrow.

Though Dipper knows why Bill’s like this, it’s still deeply annoying. He shakes his head in lieu of a reply. In a second, he’ll be calm enough to tell Bill exactly what he thinks of his incredibly poor bedside - and cave-side - manner.

“Figures. Can’t leave you alone for five minutes without your guts spilling everywhere.” Bill clicks his tongue, folding his arms and stepping forward. “What’s the damage?”

“It hurts.” Dipper says, through gritted teeth. Then pauses. Wait, he meant to say - He shakes his head rapidly, only for more words to force themselves out, unbidden. “I got cut again.”

Again, not what he intended. Dipper lowers his chin, teeth clenched. What the hell, he shouldn’t have said that. Bill’s mocking aside, maybe he did hit his head a little too hard. Once Bill gets the mockery out of his system, he’s going to be a total pest about it, too.

With a huff, Dipper slumps. Settling in for a sulk, waiting for the next jab - But there’s no insult forthcoming. Or argument.

In fact, Bill’s gone totally silent. Which is super weird.

Dipper looks up at the cave entrance, expecting a comment or a question, or at least a huge grin. He tenses up, hunching over.

And meets a frozen, unsmiling face.

Bill dropped his arms, they hang limp by his sides. His expression’s gone blank.

The next moment, he’s right in front of Dipper, kneeling and tugging at his arms with alarming urgency.

“Alright, lemme see.” Bill’s face is very close. Though he’s trying to pull his arms away, Dipper resists out of sheer surprise. Bill growls, eye darting around until it lands on the arrow. “Oh for - Really can’t leave you alone for five minutes. Move.”

Another pull, less hard this time. Like he’s trying to ease Dipper’s arms away.

“Wh- Hey!” Dipper plants a foot against Bill’s chest, but that hardly stops anything. He raises his arms. Holding them up, in fact, like he’s at gunpoint. Where’d this come from. “Don’t get upset, I’m fine.”

“Ha! Good one, sapling. Who’s upset, exactly?” Bill says, teeth bared, and in a deeply upset way. He tugs Dipper’s shirt, up, fingers tracing the cut before pressing into his stomach. “I’m just wondering if I need a replacement mortal this soon into your miserable existence. No big deal!”

Okay, this is too much.

Dipper struggles up, despite Bill trying to shove him down again. Bracing himself on the cave wall, and glaring. “Calm down already.”

“I’m perfectly calm.” Bill says, through gritted teeth. At best he looks miffed, but he’s at least stopped trying to make Dipper lie down in the recovery position or whatever. With a glare, he tugs up Dipper’s shirt, prodding at the shallow cut. “What the hell, kid. I thought you said it hurt!”

“Ow.” Dipper’s stomach jumps at another poke. He smacks Bill’s hand away. “It does, alright? Quit poking.”

Bill doesn’t seem impressed. His fingers trail over the larger, older scar on Dipper’s left side, then glares at Dipper’s stomach like it’s insulted him. A beat, then - “You don’t usually complain.”

“I-” Okay, true. Dipper glares anyway. “Shut up.”

He doesn’t complain because it’s the only option. For all that Bill whines and teases and taunts Dipper, all the time, about being some ‘fragile mortal meatsack’, already rotting before his eyes, he really doesn’t like it when it’s brought forcefully to his attention.

God, he shouldn't have said anything. Ninety-five percent of the time, there isn’t any harm to mention. But when Dipper does ends up showing he is kind of… mortal, and it’s small, he just. Doesn’t bring it up. For all that they bicker all the time, he doesn’t like to make Bill upset.

Bill grunts, mouth turned down at the corners. He stands up quickly, folding his arms. His lip curls up in a sneer. “If you wanted attention, kid, there are way better ways to-”

Oh, fuck that. Dipper flips him off, and starts storming off.

God, this is stupid. Whenever Dipper ever breaks a bone or something, he gets teased about being so weak and vulnerable. Which he is, but neither of them like the reminder.

These days, it also comes with some weirdly maybe-sincere ‘kiss it better’ thing that Dipper then has to disinfect. A lot of hovering, and rambling commentary. Sometimes creative descriptions of how much worse it could have been, and Dipper never needed those, at any time. Bill gets oddly fixated on such random little moments, and it’s just -

Dipper doesn’t like it, is all. Bill gets the way he gets, it’s a lot, and it’s easier just to avoid it. If he were a different guy - a human guy, or even mostly-human monster- Dipper might try to talk to him about it.

But Bill’s a demon. Not normal, barely sane even on his best days, and worse, he’s Bill, so. That conversation would go precisely nowhere.

Behind him, he hears said demon approaching, fast. Stupid jerk. He should be as tall as his real form. That’d be fair. More accurate, too, and then Dipper could properly stomp off without Bill catching up so easily.

Already the bastard is by Dipper’s side. A tall, irritating presence. Hovering close without grabbing on, which adds to said irritation.

Dipper leans away, but Bill catches him around the waist and drags him in.

“Don’t get so grumpy, sapling, you’re fine! A little nick in the outer layer rarely killed anyone since they invented antibiotics.” Though he pinches Dipper’s cheek, he yanks his head away with a grunt. Bill sighs. “Everything’s a-okay here! Looks like I don't have to find a replacement just yet.”

Bill’s an idiot. Dipper scoffs, though an unpleasant feeling crawls in his gut. “Oh yeah? Who would you replace me with?”

“Eh, not like I got anyone specific in mind.” Bill waves that off, nonchalant. “But I have options! Lots of options.” He bumps a hip against Dipper. “Keep that in mind before you go charging off into obvious traps.”

This goddamn liar. Dipper elbows him in the side, because the asshole deserves it.

Not that Dipper’s worried, or anything. From what little he’s heard of Bill’s exes in the demonic rumor mill - Bill’s been, as they say, less than successful. Already Dipper’s outstripped his longest by years.. Bill can lie day in and day out about his options, put on a brave face - but they both know he’s not going to find this again. Not easily.

“Good luck finding another husband, asshole.” Dipper says with appropriate derision. It’s annoying that Bill even brought it up. There’s a good riposte in there, somewhere - but while his brain is coming up with an insult, his mouth runs on automatic. “But I was really worried that you would last week. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day until you sent a dick pic. It was weirdly comforting.”

Bill turns toward him with genuine surprise. He even blinks a few times, no retort emerging, and Dipper looks back at him with equal surprise.

Until his mind catches up with what he just said.

Dipper digs his heels in the ground, slamming to a halt. Clapping both hands to his mouth, eyes wide.

Beside him Bill nearly trips at the sudden stop, flailing for balance with a swear.

Shit, shit shit. Dipper really didn’t mean to say that. He knows Bill’s not looking around, that he’s not interested. Cynically, that he couldn’t manage it if he was. Last week was just a one-off anxiety, like all the others Dipper’s brain comes up with when it gets too much free time. Totally irrational, and really hard to stop fixating on.

Bill keeps staring. Not angry, just confused, for long enough that Dipper wants to shrink into the ground and melt into nothingness.

Then he asks, “What the hell, Pine Tree?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know why I thought that. I don’t know why I said that.” Dipper cringes into himself, grimacing and ducking his head. He runs a hand over his slightly sweaty face. “I didn't even want you to know I got hurt.”

At that, Bill snorts. “Oh, please. I’d have seen that first time I got your shirt off. You can’t keep secrets from me!”

Dipper folds his arms, internally seething - and his stupid mouth moves to say, “I’ve done it before.”

This time, the silence is tense.

Dipper wipes his sweating forehead again, not daring to meet Bill’s eye. God he shouldn't have -

Before he can think, he blurts out, “I think something’s wrong.”

“Probably!” Bill agrees, with a smile just a little too sharp. He takes Dipper’s face in both hands, eye narrowed. “Hold still a sec.”

As Bill’s eye flickers blue, and the magic between them surges - Dipper squirms a bit, but. Well. If anything’s wrong with him - magically, anyway - Bill’s the best one to diagnose it..

Bill tilts his head to one side, then the other. After a moment, his mouth twists up into something unpleasant, eye glowing slightly brighter for an instant.

Then he sighs, and lets Dipper go. His expression is neutral, except for the slightest downturn of his mouth. His lips part like he’s about to speak, then twist up into a grimace.

Uh oh.

Whatever Bill saw, he didn’t like it.

“What?” Dipper pats his head, then his chest. If there was something weird, magically about him, he - wouldn’t be able to tell, actually. He’s too close to get a good look. Oh god, what if he did hit his head too hard, and something in his brain is bleeding, or worse. “Wait. Am I dying?”

“Worse! You’re telling the truth.” Bill claps his hands together. Though he’s smiling again, it’s brittle and annoyed. “Don’t suppose you know any curse breakers that aren’t your great-uncle?”

“Not really,” Dipper admits. Bill's words catch up to him, and he bites his lip. Then, because the situation deserves it, “Fuck.”

Protection curse. The tablet.

Damn it.

A part of a horde, from a long time ago. Messed with. It should have been something less awful. Like warts, or sprouting plants from his skin, or a big fireball. Pretty much anything else would be less awful.

Truth curses are rare, they’re difficult as hell - but judging by the words spilling out of Dipper, he’s caught a pretty strong variant.

Of all the curses that could hit him. Why this one.

Hell, maybe it’s intended to be the worst curse possible for the ‘thief’. That would explain how targeted this feels.

And knowing Dipper’s luck, that part was explained on, like, the back of the tablet.

“Welp! Good thing I’m not short on contacts, kid.” Bill grapes his shoulder, shaking him a bit, before he trails an arm over Dipper’s shoulders. “Who wants some fumbling idiot uncle to fix this kinda spell, anyway?”

Dipper would! If it was feasible. He makes a brief attempt at shrugging Bill’s arm up before letting his shoulders slump.

The idea of Ford hearing about this is….

Dipper sucks in a breath through his teeth.

Ford really would have a way around this. He'd certainly have the best intentions, Dipper’s certain. He'd...

Also not have the best sense of boundaries.

Though he'd be doing it for the right reasons, he'd ask the wrong questions. Out of concern, and arguably valid worry; he's never fully believed that Bill can't influence him. Despite how many times Dipper’s tried to explain it to him, Ford just can’t wrap his mind around certain truths.

With this curse, though. Between poor social sense, the Pines curiosity, and what Dipper might blurt out, while compelled to answer -

On this, Dipper agrees with Bill. They’ll have to find something else to break this.

In the meantime, he’ll manage, like he has all the other times his life has sucked. Hardly the worst case scenario. If Bill had been cursed - someone who lies like he breathes - Who knows? Give it a few days, and he might just explode from all the backed up bullshit.

“Wait.” A horrible thought strikes. Dipper reels on his husband, eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

“What, me? I’m a perfectly moral human man,” Bill says, resting a hand on his chest, lifting his chin with pride. “A boring sentient mammal who’s never found curses entertaining.”

Yep, Bill’s fine. As always, it’s Dipper who gets the short end of the stick.

He breathes in slowly, and lets it out.

Yeah. Still sucks. He’ll deal. Cursed, but not dead. In danger, but not the worst - and his husband’s being annoying, which means he’s perfectly fine. There’s a solution too - it’s just going to be a huge, annoying process getting to it.

“So,” Bill says, slowly. Drawing the word out in a long string, while he finger-walks his arm up around Dipper’s shoulder.

Uh oh.

Speaking of annoying…

“Watch it,” Dipper hunches his shoulders, not daring to look his idiot husband in the eye. “You’re this close to sleeping on the couch for a month.” Not a big enough threat, Bill’s still thinking- “Or for a year.”

“Oh, sure,” Bill says, in a distracted tone. His fingers pause on their walk, one ‘leg’ poised on Dipper’s clavicle. They hold the position for a long moment, tapping out a little marching step - and seconds later, his palm slaps down on Dipper’s shoulder. “So, Pine Tree! How do you feel about this ‘Bill Cipher’ guy?”

Though Dipper resists, and he really tries to, the words slip out past his teeth, his lips form the sounds -

“I love you.” God. Damnit. He clenches his fists, as Bill’s sheer smugness radiates from him like heat. “And I’m thinking about shoving you off a cliff right now.”

When Bill paused, Dipper thought he might have fended this off. Wishful thinking, really, Bill’s almost impossible to stop. Dipper used what leverage he had, but all he’s managed to avoid are the worst, most invasive questions.

When it comes to Bill, that’s pretty close to a win.

Not that it’s going to feel like one.

Bill has, in fact, been encouraged. Now that he’s heard something he likes, he leans in like a weird creep. Dipper can practically hear the leer in his voice. “And on a scale of one to ten, how handsome am I?

“Ten point five,” Dipper needs to loosen his jaw or he might break a filling. Being pumped for information is bad enough without pumping up Bill’s already ridiculous ego. “You bastard.”

Bill’s chest puffs out, there’s a strut in his stride. The grin is so wide now Dipper’s pretty sure it should hurt- and if he dares to pucker up, he’s not getting lips on his awful face. “And am I the most clever and sexually amazing guy in the universe or what?

This time, Dipper snorts.

“Definitely not.” He ignores the sharp, indignant sound next to him, tilting his head in thought. “For one, there’s succubi and incubi, so. Sexually, you’re not even on top amongst demons.” He glances over at the offended ‘o’ of Bill’s mouth. “And I know you’re not the most clever, because I win our debates nearly half the time. Maybe you’re up there, but not the most. And that’s just the surface level stuff.”

Dipper doesn’t have a complete cosmological view of the multiverse, but he has learned a lot. Mostly stuff he picked up from his husband, and demonic gossip. It’s absolutely enough to go on a long, long ramble about how Bill most likely doesn’t rank number one in anything. If Dipper avoids the topics where he actually is.

He’s barely fifteen seconds in before Bill starts scowling, with a grumpy hunch to his shoulders - But screw him.

Dipper starts smiling, just a bit. Then, to be a dick, he adds,

“The ten and a half is just me, anyway. To the average human, you’re maybe an eight..” Dipper continues, over another spluttered protest. Again, true; not everyone likes the slightly inhuman maniac cyclops look. “Six with your personality.”

Bill groans. “Ugh, you pedant.” He squeezes Dipper’s shoulder, jostling him slightly. “C’mon, you know what I meant! What’s the real - “

“Don’t ask questions if you can’t handle the answers,” Dipper warns, jabbing Bill in the chest. So far it hasn’t been too much, but it could be. Time to draw a line. “I will suck so much fun out of this for you.”

Bill Cipher, unintentional teacher once more. Now Dipper knows the curse isn’t about perfect truth. When he can deliberately misinterpret a question’s intent, and can go on tangents - that means he has loopholes. There might even be more, if he tries.

And if they can’t get this settled soon, he’ll need every one of those he can find.

“Clever brat.” Bill’s frowning, but he can’t disguise the amusement in his voice. His eyebrows wiggle, his arm hauling him close - "Go ahead, then. Anything else you wanna share?"

"I know two and half ways to kill you, Bill Cipher." Dipper gets right up in his face. He won’t let Bill push this any further. "Don't tempt me to use them."

Being face to face like this, Dipper watches Bill’s eye go wide - ha, didn’t expect that, did he. With that threat, he’ll -

Start cackling. And weirdly, turn a little pink. Dipper feels all the momentum he had whoosh out of him like sad balloon animal.

“Boy, you are a saucy one!” Bill whistles, low. He places his hands demurely on his cheeks, fluttering his eye at Dipper with amusement. “Oh, yeah. Talk deadly to me.”

By this time, Dipper figures he should be used to stumbling into demonic flirtation. Only it turns out it’s basically fractal in nature, and he keeps running into new and newer edge cases.

“Fun as this is - we gotta get you cleared up, and no time like the present!” Bill’s calmed down enough to scoop an arm around his waist, leading Dipper onward. “Can’t have you babbling everything to everyone, y’know?”

“What, you don’t want me telling you everything?” Total bullshit. Dipper elbows him in the side. “I thought you wanted to get in my head.”

“Hey! I didn’t ask for our game to be set on ‘beginner’ mode. That’s boring.” Bill flicks his fingers - but he’s got his ‘evading questions’ look on. “You’re lucky I’m so- oof.”

Another elbow, harder this time. Bill grunts, but capitulates. Rubbing at his eye briefly, he sighs.

“So! How many of my secrets would you say you know, Pine Tree?” Bill tightens his grip on Dipper’s waist, tugging him closer. “And I’m talking about the ones that I wouldn’t enjoy getting out in the world.”

“More than I can count.” Dipper says without thinking. Then, with thinking - “Oh.”

Dipper hadn’t considered how much Bill’s taught him, before this exact moment. How much he’s learned. Even unintentionally. Especially unintentionally.

Crap, even his threat before was kind of -

Shit. There’s definitely, absolutely, no way can they go to Ford about this. Total recipe for disaster.

“See? We both got liabilities in play here.” Bill moves easily as Dipper picks up the pace. If anything he’s amused, and not feeling nearly as urgent. Another reason he’s an idiot. “All we gotta do is get you patched up quick, and no more loose lips sinking ships! Easy-peasy.”

“It better be,” Dipper mutters. Nothing ever goes right for him. And by extension, them.

“Trust me, kid! I got this handled!” Bill snaps his fingers - and smacks Dipper’s butt with a wink. “I know some guys!”

#answers #Not my best work but I haven't posted in a while so here's a thing!#I will get better at writing I swear #There are references to the whump fic in this just so you know #It is canon that Dipper didn't die but the how and the aftermath are for the sequel #Anyway whump sequel is going decent and I have some ideas for other stuff #Don't worry Dipper Ford wouldn't even think to ask you the questions you're worried about #He assumes that Bill would never ever let you know those facts #And technically Bill never told Dipper either of those two and a half ways but you learn a lot from being married for a few years #I don't have any more interesting tag facts other than that don't expect a timely sequel to this because I have so much stuff to complete #I hope it's at least fun to read!

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originalartblog · 8 months

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hi! i got into bsd and i was meaning to ask, since you seem an authority on the matter, could you recommend me some more bsd blogs to follow?

ps. love your art so much, you capture the characters personalities so well!

oh... that's a lot of pressure... I'm aware that I have weight on this side of the fandom (feels wild btw) but authority is too big a word

I mainly interact with art and the occasional analysis and joke posts, so most of the blogs I can recommend are that, plus I am very Chuuya/Dazai/skk biased

First, browse and follow the bsd fanart tag to get just that. Not everyone uses it (I encourage them to!!), but if like me you are so very done with the negativity fest that have become the main tags since the anime started airing again, that's a great place to find fun things!

Second, I am sending you on a discovery journey. I encourage you to look through people's blogs and tags for some great finds. Here are some blogs in random order for you to start with, because there is no way I can remember all the blogs I love:

@caelanglang (art), @luneariann (art), @sensitiveheartless (art + writing), @arikitoka (art), @itotypes (writing + art), @iwritenarrativesandstuff (analysis + writing + art), @frenchonionsoop (art), @petitesmafia (funny), @yomeiu (art), @esmiara (art), @weeniehutart (art), @videogamelover99 (analysis + art), @carrotkicks (art), @damianito (art), @smolskk (art), @kokoasci (art), @chupidopi (art), @mochimochips (art), @creantzy (art), @justplaggin (news and official stuff),

have some reblog blogs that will probably catch some of the cool people I can't remember right now AND give you some forgotten older stuff if you scroll far enough: @demonprodigy-kingofsheep, @im-always-a-slut-for-soukoku, @for-chuuya, @awkwardbsd, a bunch of the people above too, and a shameless self-plug @originalaccountname where it's mostly reblogs and the occasional analysis post.

EDITED: popopretty makes monthly chapter recaps and other kinds of translations (you might recognize them from twitter, or not), @reneray has Fifteen manga adaptation translations, and @nineofscans has monthly chapter translations and some bonuses!

I could never remember everyone and if your tastes diverge from mine there are also a bunch of really cool people who "specialize" in different characters and dynamics you will stumble upon out there.

you are all allowed to shamelessly plug yourselves or your faves in the replies/reblogs btw

#happy browsing!! i hope you find some cool people and fandom stuff to your tastes!!#and hello all of you! i hope you're having a good weekend :)#ask answered #not art #about the main tags issue:#nothing makes me more angry than bad faith criticism #especially in animation. if i see one more ''lazy animation'' accusation i am going to eat someone's kneecaps.#also i don't have time for all that complaining. i like to have fun you see.

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