Nobody actually “debunked” anything, viv just said she didn’t know better than to post pedophilia and beastiality porn between the ages of 17-19 (probably just stopped posting it), she still stole designs, she still mocked the children she stole from, and she’s still a homophobe, racist, and transphobic, she just knows how to frame in in a way where you losers use your own self hate and want to be “one of the good ones” to excuse it as satire like you do south park. Your anons are bad
^^ literrally this also this is what my askbox feels like rn
@gaydeliverydriverunion replied to your post “whoever thinks dream daddy is like a meaningful game idk, doesn’t have...”
It was cute I guess but lol it really bothers me how all of these straight guys who profit off of their weird fans shipping them were so comfortable making weird gay jokes
Like even the fact that it was a ~dadsona~ and not just ur avatar really shows who the audience was
I wouldn’t consider The Game Grumps the actual developers, they didn’t create or write the game. Nor was it their idea in the first place either. It was their creative developer Vernon’s, along with some other lady. I would consider GG more of a publisher than a developer, but considering it was made in their office, i guess they label themselves as a developer too.
Neither the creators are gay men, the woman is q*eer as she describes, but ofc that doesn’t mean you’ll understand what it’s like to interact as a man attracted to other men. The dadsona thing could’ve been handled more eloquently, but they obviously didn’t solely market to just gay men LOL.
gaydeliverydriverunion replied to your post “ive never felt better about myself then today. hrt is a medical...”
It feels great, I’m so happy that you’re feeling this The first dose is so life changing on its own
honestly the whole first month sucked cuz i had to still present as my assigned gender. now that im actually presenting as who i want to be i feel so so good
[fic] Baby, We’re Really In Love (Arcade/Courier Six)
Happy Holidays!
Here is @enclaveoilrig ‘s submission for @gaydeliverydriverunion.
Pairing: Arcade Gannon/Courier Six
Summary: Prompt: “I think something sweet with Arcade and Courier six sort of having their own celebration of the new year together would be nice. they're away from their friends (a few months after an independent vegas ending i think) and sort of enjoying each others company. i think some sign of celebration in the distance would be cool. something sort of sappy would be really lovely”
Word Count: 3.3K
Rating: SFW
Warnings: Alcohol usage
Within the glow of the Strip, Arcade works a late-night shift at the Mormon Fort. The power has gone out again, which is something almost all of Freeside has gotten used to by now. His collogues quickly adjust asking for portable lights or anything that gives off a glow. The patients do the same, a few making jokes to humor themselves. A couple of months ago he would have just grumbled under his breath about the unfairness of the NCR’s hold on Freeside, but now he briefly smiles. After all, the reason they even have a dedicated line of power in the first place brings back memories that have a sentimental attachment to them. Also, it’s their power, something they own, not the NCR’s or House’s.
Arcade isn’t tucked away in the corner of the Mormon Fort much anymore. Sometimes he misses that slower pace, but ever since New Vegas gained independence, the Followers have stretched all their resources to the maximum. He’s let himself take a bigger role within the Mormon Fort, too. His inspiration and motivation for this change stems from his experiences with Six and everything that comes with the other man. That ‘everything’ is a complex grab bag of unsaid words and feelings, but somehow between the two of them, there is an understanding that Arcade is grateful to have.
“It’s almost tranquil if it weren’t for the lack of good supplies, tents, and organization.” It’s Julie Farkas’ voice that pulls Arcade out of his inner monologue. “This is your third late night shift in a row, isn’t it, Arcade?”
“And your fourth,” he doesn’t say that to shut her down or purely point out her hypocrisy. It’s still a habit he has that makes him feel like he should deflect the conversation back on to the other person, especially if they’re following his behavior and actions more closely than others. “It’s fine. We need the all the people we have, and I doubt any new graduates from the Boneyard are lining up to be sent here.” It’s well known by now that the Followers have it tough out here, far tougher than before. Besides the NCR purposely making things more difficult for the Followers and anyone out in the Mojave, the aftermath of Hoover dam is overwhelming enough already.
“I’ll stop putting off my vacation to San Francisco.” He’s heard that line from Julie before, and by now, it’s a running gag. It might have been possible for her to leave the Mormon Fort back in September or August, but not now.
“Eventually,” Arcade added, returning the humor.
“Of course.” The conversation between them feels comfortable, something Arcade did not often feel when talking to others until more recently. “I still have some time before the Shi celebrate their New Years; I want to see the blooming flowers that decorate the main gate into Shi-town.”
“It’s nice.” If he closes his eyes, he could envision the flower petals falling onto the ground. “So I’ve heard.” The second part of his statement comes after a delayed pause, but Julie doesn’t give him a strange look or say anything. Or maybe he just doesn’t notice as he’s distracted.
The sun will rise in a few hours, and Arcade’s age and fatigue are catching up to him. He could go back to the Lucky 38, but the place is like an Old World museum meets well preserved archeological gravesite. The only people who reside there these days are Six and him along with Six’s eyebot and cyberdog. Arcade knows the suite will be empty tonight and has been for a few days. If someone were to hypothetically correlate the fact Six being away and him staying these late night shifts, he would say correlation does not equal causation. Yet deep down, something Arcade doesn’t want to admit aloud, is that he doesn’t want to return to an empty room without Six when the whole place reminds him of the man.
Arcade finds himself back in the tent he used to spend most of his time in at the Mormon Fort. While it’s tucked away, the tent is open enough to let sunbeams pierce through. He’s not even sure when he went to sleep or how he ended up here. Those details don’t matter as he has a feeling he should have been awake hours ago to help.
He starts to get up, a hand feeling he has his glasses on already before running a hand through his hair. More than just his back aches right now and the pains of hunger and thirst are starting to weight on him. He wonders briefly how presentable he looks right now, and if it’s bad, he would either have to borrow another coat and shirt from one of the other Followers or drag himself up to the Lucky 38.
He catches his reflection and he doesn’t look like death walking. He actually appears softer around the edges most likely due to the fatigue. In his current level of sleep desperation, he might even be more personable and more passive to converse with. He knows within a minute or two of being outside the tent he’ll find something to do no matter how he looks. He’ll either be pulled to help with someone who got mugged or tugged to help a child with malnutrition.
Even before he fully leaves the tent, someone is calling out to him. It’s a familiar face, but one he isn’t expecting. It’s Emily Ortal, someone whose reassignment got approved and was moving to work closer to her hometown.
“Long night, huh? Well, Julie wants to pick up some supplies that came from Vault City through the Garett Twins.”
“So, she wants me to take a break.” Supply pickups aren’t the best use of his skills nor something he does that often. Sometimes doctors would volunteer to get a break from the Fort for half an hour or so.
“Pretty much. Take it easy, Arcade, and make sure the Buffout and Med-X aren’t watered down like the last time. You know how to tell, don’t you?” He just nods at Emily’s question, not wanting to really engage in anything further. “Oh, and happy New Year, Arcade. Don’t work through it unless you have to.” He continues nodding without realizing her exact words, muttering something along the lines of ‘you too’ or ‘same’.
He only realizes that it really is New Year’s Eve when he’s close to the Atomic Wrangler. There’s a good amount of people going in and out of the place. The atmosphere is even slightly different, more of a celebratory tone rather than a suffocating burying-one’s-trouble sort of feeling. He’s never been too fond of this place and what it does, but the Followers have become dependent on the Garett Twins for supplies now the NCR isn’t bringing as many traders and caravans.
When Arcade enters the Atomic Wrangler, a few of the locals recognize him and holler his name. He just waves back, feeling that too many eyes are staring right at him. Too much attention from others kicks in an instinct that he has to be careful, and that sort of instinct has paid off in the Mojave. Now if only he could cut down on the awkward rambling that causes others to look at him like he’s a brahmin with one head.
He notices that it’s Francine managing the front of the house instead of James; it is a relief in all honesty. He doesn’t even take a seat at the bar or have eye contact with her before she starts talking to him.
“The supplies came in early this morning.” Arcade gets a feeling she’s saying this to him to point out she’s waited a while. “It was supposed to come in a few days ago, but the caravaneer said something’s going on between Vault City and some neighboring town.”
“There’s always something going on.” If he were the overtalkative stage of fatigue right about now, he would have started a tangent on the injustice and corruption on Vault City. Luckily for the Francine, he’s either past that stage or not there yet.
“And we manage.” Francine cuts him off early, probably expecting Arcade to say more.
“We do.” A quick reply and Francine gestures to the staircase. In the back upstairs is where the supplies are kept, and once Arcade gets a quick look through for quality assurance, he’ll be hauling it back.
Checking supplies isn’t Arcade’s specialty, but he’s gotten a lot more practice now that the Followers and New Vegas as a whole doesn’t have the NCR to rely on. New Vegas is still rumbling and finding it’s groove with being independent. That means plenty of conmen and people willing to take advantage of the situation to make quick caps.
Even checking the supplies reminds him of Six, and he feels pitiful about this. Isn’t he old enough that seeing boxes of Buffout wouldn’t make him feel this way? Or maybe it is nostalgia from being his age. It’s so easy to get lost in that memory of when he first met Six, how the other asked him for some advice on Buffout and dosage level.
He doesn’t want to describe and assign how he’s feeling to emotions because if he does it’ll remind him that this isn’t some casual affair between him and Six. No, in fact, it’s something much deeper than the two of them have clumsily found themselves in. He never expected to form a relationship with Six in this way, beyond just feelings. They’ve been working together to help New Vegas rebuild and strengthen local governments. Six has given him the opportunity to actually help people rather philosophize and read Old World economic policies. That’s why he’s so grateful for Six in his life, that he truly brings out the best in Arcade.
Though, right now, Arcade doesn’t look so great and paler than usual (and that is saying something).
Arcade decides he really does need some rest, which means going back to the very empty and haunting Lucky 38 to get some proper sleep. He drops off the supplies at the Mormon Fort before walking towards The Strip. This time the supplies are mostly in good condition, only about five or six of the Med-X syringes are dysfunctional versus any major problems. Maybe Six’s talk with the caravaneers who go through Vault City paid off. Arcade’s talks with the Modoc caravaneers and the Klamath ones proved fruitful so far.
Entering the suite still is unsettling to Arcade, and part of hopes that Six will come up in the elevator after him. Yet a minute later, no one is there and no one has greeted him. He takes his coat off and anything that smells like it needs to be cleaned. He’ll get to them later he tells himself, just wanting to sleep.
He lies down on the bed he shares with Six, but the warmth of another isn’t there. The sheets are cold and the room isn’t filled with him talking. It’s too quiet, for a change, and Arcade wishes the silence could be filled. He could fill it himself, talking about supply-side economics, but it’s New Year’s Eve, so he’ll spare himself.
He does let his mind drift to a memory of Six and that lets him fall asleep a bit more easily.
“Arcade,” the first thing he feels is a warm breath around his neck. Then he feels a squeeze, arms wrapped around his torso.
He doesn’t have his glasses on this time when he wakes up, and from what he can tell, the room is almost pitch black anyway. His brain is telling him he should feel more alarmed, but his body feels relaxed. It’s not long after he realizes what’s going.
“Were you trying to wake me up?” Arcade knows Six’s presence and voice, and the laugh confirms it’s him.
“Maybe. Maybe not. What’s the best answer?” Arcade feels a soft kiss planted on his neck. “If I don’t want to upset you.”
“And makeup sex was so last month ago.” It’s easier to be the pleasant sort of sarcastic with Six here with him.
“What a shame. I guess I’ll have to find another way.”Arcade turns around to face Six, even if he can’t make out his face without having his glasses on. “More fun for me.” They share a kiss, and it’s still surprising Six can be this tender and affectionate. Especially with how Arcade first perceived and judged him.
“I’ll be patient.” He might not be able to see Six smiling, but he can somehow feel it. He can’t explain why or how but he just can.
“Good. I’ll make it worth your while.” Six buries his head in Arcade’s chest snuggling him. Arcade can’t make out the exact words he said, but it sounded like there was a ‘missed you’ and ‘I love you’ muttered into his chest. Arcade doesn’t say the words back but he feels the exact same way.
The two of they just lie together in bed for maybe ten minutes or so in silence. Six is always doing something or moving about, but occasionally in these intimate moments together, it’s like Six is just focused on him and time and the Mojave are waiting on them rather than vice versa. The two of them touching each other and feeling each other’s presence is enough, the sound of silence isn’t a distractor but something positive.
“Happy New Year,” only now it feels like he can truly celebrate the new year with Six here. “For auld lang syne.” He isn’t sure, but he has a feeling Six has fallen asleep. It’s a reflective moment Arcade wants to appreciate.
The two of them wake up again, and by then, The Strip’s lights seem brighter than usual. Activity on the Strip has picked up, Arcade watching people from the window. The Lucky 38’s penthouse is where most of the alcohol is stored, and Six suggested they go up here to get a better view, something the presidential suite lacks. Arcade hasn’t been here too much since everyone went their own way. It’s probably the most well-preserved parts of the hotel and thus the place that feels the most unsettling.
Six pours Arcade a drink while Six’s eyebot hovers over the both of them. Arcade’s gotten more comfortable with the robot, and they’ve even formed a kinship with each as they are both forgotten fragments of Enclave made anew to help New Vegas. It feels nice that Six is sitting next to him since he was gone for more than a week.
“You didn’t bring me up here just for drinks, did you?” Arcade takes the drink anyway, not waiting to hear Six’s response.
“I’m trying that whole, uh, what’s it called? Being ‘romantic’ thing.”
“Good luck with that one.” Arcade knows Six is really trying his best at being a good lover, something Six was honest with him about. Arcade knows he isn’t the easiest person to be with, and sometimes he believes the struggles outweigh the benefits.
“I need all the luck that I can get, but we are in a hotel called the Lucky 38, so…” Six pours himself a drink but just holds onto it for now. “You’ll tell me if I mess up or whatever won’t you?”
“I never exactly pictured you to be the type to recite Ovid’s Amores in perfect Latin, so you’re off the hook.” He watches Six make a face that’s he’s all too familiar with. “I am kidding. Please don’t do that. I might think that something in that Old World science laboratory finally got to you.”
“Fine, fine. I was really going to see if I could find whatever you wanted me to recite.” Six seems eager and not ready to let this go.
“And recite it?”
“Well, first I’d want to see what it’s about before sacrificing a part of my dignity.” Six doesn’t seem embarrassed at all but instead seems to have embraced it.
“It would be a rather large chunk, and very not you.” He doesn’t want to have Six feel it’s something Arcade wants him to do. He prefers Six just be himself, so instead, he makes an offer. “If I find a copy, I’ll read it to you.”
“Really?” Six actually seems happy, something Arcade is surprised about.
“Having someone willing to listen to my attempt at making Latin poetry be entertaining? I think you’re the only one.” Arcade remembers nights in the Followers’ library when he was young where he would read as much Latin poetry as he could under Nicole’s portrait.
“Probably.” They both laugh.
“And also it’s not every day I’d sacrifice some of my dignity, but I’ll let that go as it’s for the cause of knowledge.” Arcade’s glad to have someone like Six to talk with like this, where he doesn’t feel like he has to hide or compartmentalize parts of himself for.
“Of course. That’s the only reason.” Six finally takes the shot he poured for himself earlier. “I love you, Arcade.”
“Because I am willing to sacrifice some of my dignity?” He knows that’s not the reason, but sarcasm as a deflection still is a habit he can’t break. Maybe in time, he’ll be able to say he loves Six back as easily as Six tells him.
“That and plenty of other stuff. Want me to start listing ‘em?” The one good thing about their relationship is that Six is pressuring him, just him.
“Not for tonight. We’ve have a few drinks in us and that might lead us into the dangerous territory of emotional dumping.” Drunkenly telling Six he loves him over and over isn’t how he wants to spend New Year.
“Right, right.” Six points out to the landscape in front of them “Luckily for you I got something to show you, and it should be starting soon.”
Arcade stares out the window, looking at the dark night sky and the softening glow the Strip has on Freeside. The view of the Strips’ lights looks different from up here than from down below from the Mormon Fort. The darkness doesn’t last so long, as a loud, almost thunderous, popping explosion sound goes off. Bright lights fill the sky, and while non-big city Wastelanders might not know what this is, Arcade does.
“Muggy found a stash of fireworks and I thought I’d bring them back. I wasn’t sure what to exactly to with them, but Yes Man thought it’d be nice to celebrate the New Year with.”
“It’s very traditional.” It’s the first thing that popped into Arcade’s head, and he wishes he would have said something else
“Traditional…” Six looks a bit confused, not expecting that word.
“I mean, it’s something before bombs fell that families and couples did. Watching fireworks and spending time together…it’s all very sentimental and romantic.” Arcade tries to recover, hoping the conversation gets back on track.
“Well, at least I got the romantic part down.” Six grabs onto one of Arcade’s hands, spending this moment connected physically and emotionally with his lover.
“You did, and the fireworks are a nice touch.” Arcade kisses Six this time, the sound of fireworks being drowned out by ED-E playing Auld Lang Syne in the background on cue.
From what i understand dog shelters do that to help adopt out the dogs. There are people out there who know very little about the traits passed on from certain breeds in mixes, but the idea of having a shibe mix is still exciting and can help move them. I see a lot more people claim lab or retriever ancestry around my neck of the woods even though theyre pretty clearly neither, but i dont mind much as long as it helps keep dogs safe.
I do understand putting a breed on a mixed dog is a why of attracting attention. But when the dog isn’t remotely similar in appearance or disposition I’m not sure it helps that much. If someone can’t tell the difference between a shiba inu and a maltese are they really prepared to own either?
