⚠Warning:⚠ If you are uncomfortable with the subject of m!preg in the following… I suggest you politely skip over this post.
This is an art/fic trade with @cooterblaster who has suggested some pregnant UT Papyrus. This is infact my first fanfic and do hope you all enjoy this little concoction I summoned. ♡
Angelic laughter can be heard as a pair of naked palms trace a jelly mound that contains nothing but a radiating soul rooted at the center.
“I THINK THEY LIKE THAT, DARLING~.” The pregnant skeleton hummed sweetly as he leans his spine against his edgier reflection.
“NYAH HA HA, ARE YOU SURE THAT IT ISN’T YOU THAT LIKES THAT?” Fell pushes into the headboard with a snicker, holding his loved one close and giving his small share of mandible kisses.
“NY’M…” The rounded cheekbones flush an orange hue and tossed the skull away out of complete fluster. When has his boyfriend never figured out anything? Papyrus keeps his sights elsewhere with his metaphorical lips sealed.
An inaudible snort was made from Edge’s nasal cavity from the silent treatment. He leant in close to rattle the other’s bones a little with a teasing grope of the soon-to-be mother’s breast and a sweet coo into the temporal. “WANT YOUR DARLING TO MAKE YOU SOME BREAKFAST, FLUFFY BUN?”
Never has the younger monster felt so violated from just a grope, he turns around to rant at Edge, but paused immediately after noting the subject of food. “THAT IS SO SWEET OF YOU~. IS IT POSSIBLE YOU CAN MAKE ME SPAGHETTI TOPPED WITH….. KETCHUP?” Both eyes sparkle Edge’s way.
What the fuck was the thought that went through the older one’s skull, trying to process what Papyrus just said. It was almost as if it was some foreign text. He understands that pasta was Papyrus’s favorite food, but drowned with his brother’s nectar of a condiment? Fell had no realization that cravings can get so… how would he put this in nicer terms? Bizarre. “DO YOU MEAN TOMATO SAUCE?”
“I KNOW WHAT I MEAN, EDGE.” The monster replied in a snobbish tone as the hormones get to the best of him and looks to the side, folding his arms in a huff with glowing cheekbones.
“I WAS ONLY CLARIFYING… I DID NOT MEAN TO UPSET YOU.” Edge reassures the other in a whisper with a peck on the forehead, rising up from the mattress.
“WAIT DOWNSTAIRS UNTIL I FINISH.” The skeleton with drawn-on scars exits the room and makes his way into the kitchen, preparing the morning dish.
Meanwhile the master chef cooks… the pregnant monster upstairs cautiously works his way up and out of the bedroom. Papyrus settles both metacarpals along the ectoplasmic belly, rubbing away the hunger pains.
“PHOOO… NYEH…” Paps exhaled a short breath of air, soothing the little heart with his voice. “NO NEED TO BE SO TROUBLESOME IN THERE. WE WILL EAT… JUST AS SOON AS I CAN MANAGE TO GET TO THE TABLE.” A bead of sweat trickled down from the thought. Who knows how long it might take him to get to the dining room… with a belly the size of his… probably a while. His fiance did tell him that he should take his time to prevent the risk of injury to him and the baby he carries.
“I GOT THIS.” Papyrus repeats this phrase multiples of times to himself for motivation whilst waddling his way through the hallway. After a bit of steady waddles, he takes it step by step down the staircase with a brief pause in between to breathe.
About ten minutes later…
A steaming plate of nothing but a mound of spaghetti drenched in ketchup sits in front of Papyrus. “YOUR BREAKFAST HAS BEEN SERVED BY THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS~.” Edge couldn’t help but state the old saying and doesn’t take his sockets off Papyrus.
Paps stares at the meal that reaks of vinegar and peers up at the skeleton observing, pushing the plate over to him with a sassy toss of his head.
Keith was so sick of Lance and his superior attitude.
Ever since he met the prince Keith knew they would never get along.
He was just so loud, so judgmental, so annoying.
They were currently sat in a strategy meeting trying to figure out how to get Shiro back.
He had been badly hurt on their last mission and was captured by Zarkon.
The clock was ticking and while everyone was offering helpful ideas, Lance just wouldn’t stop cracking jokes.
It wasn’t just Keith that was getting annoyed.
He could see irritation written all over the faces of the other Paladins.
Even Allura seemed to be getting tired of her little brothers jokes.
“Maybe we could offer a trade for Shiro?” Pidge suggested.
“Yeah I’m sure I’m worth more to them then him.” Lance suggested quietly and Keith just lost it.
He dove across the table and punched him in the face.
Lance fell to the floor shock on his face as he held his throbbing nose.
“Keith what the hell!” Lance asked.
Hunk was holding Keith back from delivering another blow to the princes presious face.
“Don’t you care pretend you don’t know why! Your not worth more then Shiro!” He yelled struggling against Hunks strong arms.
“Just calm down dude.” Hunk whispered and despite how much Keith wanted to stay angry he just couldn’t when he looked back at the scared expression on both Hunk and Pidge’s face’s.
“Lance are you ok?” Keith turned his attention to Allura to see her helping her younger brother to his feet.
“Yeah I’m fine.” He lowered his hands to give her a trademark smile only to show his nose was bleeding badly.
Keith stared as Allura quickly produced a handkerchief and tilted his head back to stop the blood flow.
Keith felt a pang of guilt, he hadn’t meant to hit him so hard…
“I’ll tell Coran to get a pod ready!” Hunk said as he ran off.
Allura sighed “Pidge go stop him please, a pod will not be needed.”
Pidge nodded and ran after the yellow paladin.
“Why doesn’t he need a pod? His nose could be broken.”
“Oh it is” Lance winced as he snapped his nose back in place. “The pods arnt really safe for me to use.” He shrugged.
“What do you-”
Keith was cut off by Coran over the loud speaker saying he needed Allura’s help immediately.
She sighed as he left the two alone.
Lance jumped up to sit on the edge of the table. He patted the space next to him as a signal for Keith to join him.
Keith hesitantly sat next to him trying his best not to look at the blood.
“You want to know why I can’t use the pod right? Well I want to know why you hit me. Fair trade?”
Keith nodded “it’s just… it didn’t seem like you cared Shiro was captured. And you always act like your so much better then us and well I get you lost your planet but before that you had the easy life of a prince and you couldn’t begin to understand what Shiro means to me and how he saved me.”
Keith expected and apology not for Lance to start laughing.
“What’s so funny.” Keith asked crossing his arms.
“Nothing, nothing. It’s just I understand better then you could imagine.” Lance wiped a tear from his eye his laughter dying down. “I can’t use the pods because I’m only half Altean.”
Keith stared in shock “so Allura’s only your half sister?”
Lance shook his head “nope. See Alfor adopted me when I was ten, I don’t have a drop of royal blood in my body.”
“B-but how then?”
Lance grinned “in the early days of the war Zarkon enslaved Altean colony planets. Including mine. He turned my mother into a slave, forcing her to mine minerals for him. My dad was from a people known as Voiders… they were made of pure energy and the Galra used them as battery’s. They wiped them all out by draining the life from them.”
Lance was quiet for a moment and Keith couldn’t bring himself to speak.
“My dad survived being drained somehow and was sent to work in the mines where he met my mom… one thing led to another and well here I am.” He gestured to himself as he placed down the bloody handkerchief.
“But when Alfor tried to free my planet, Zarkon ordered all the slaves to be executed…. I don’t really remember much. Just what Allura told me years later. I erm.. I was found in a pile of bodies in my mother’s arms. I was like really close to being dead. Like so bad that I was in a coma for a couple months. When I woke up they told me what had happened and Alfor adopted me.”
Keith stared in shock, he had always assumed Lance lived an easy life before the war, that he was a pampered prince. “But why can’t you use the pods?”
Lance shrugged “Voiders are made of pure energy and so am I, how I am know my physical form of really delicate because my energy keeps trying to burst out. The pod fills your body with quintessence and mine just can’t handle it. I would literally break apart.”
“How can you be so casual about that!” Keith asked standing up and glaring at him. “If you can’t use the pods then why the hell are you allowed to fight!”
Lance just smiled like he heard the question a 100 times already “because blue choose me. She’s mine and I’m hers, nothing can change that.”
Keith looked at the ground “I’m sorry I punched you… I was just so angry.”
Lance stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder “it’s ok I get I can be pretty annoying… I was just trying to cheer everyone up.”
Keith groaned, of course that’s what Lance was doing. He’s always the one to think about his teams well being and lighten the mood when everyone was too close to the edge to see the void just beyond.
“I’m a jerk.”
“Yeah you are, but we love you anyway.” Lance laughed as he put an arm around Keith’s shoulders.
Just as Keith was about to make a joke about a bonding moment Pidge ran in.
“Get to the bridge fast! It’s about Shiro!”
The two exchanged a look before they followed the green paladin.
Soon as they entered the room they were greeted with the sight of Haggar on the screen standing over a very pale Shiro.
“Shiro!” Keith yelled.
“Ah finally the others have arrived.” Haggar smirked as she pulled up Shiro’s undershirt to show his wound that was swollen and oozing yellow. It didn’t take a genius to realise that the wound was infected.
“Your precious leader won’t last much longer.”
“Then I offer you a trade! Me for him.” Allura stepped forwards.
“Sister no!” Lance tried to stop her.
“I am the first for the throne and the pilot of the castle of lions, so let him go and I will come willingly.”
Haggar was quiet for a moment clearly thinking over her options “without the head Voltron will fall.”
“Well then what about the leg!” Lance stepped in front of Allura “you take me and we still can’t use Voltron and you get the Prince of Altea.”
Haggar looked him over before laughing “why would I trade the leader for Alfor’s little disappointment of a son?”
Lance flinched but kept eye contact “b-because…” he looked round the room and made eye contact with Keith and Keith knew what he was going to do but was unable to stop him.
“Because I’m not his son. But I am prince of Altea and the blue paladin… and I am the last Voider in existence.”
That stopped Haggar laughing. She peered closer at him. “Prove it.”
Lance didn’t hesitate to move over to the crystal and place his hand on it.
No sooner had his skin come in contact with the cool surface did his eyes light up a powerful blue, blocking out all but the blue light. Cracks began to appear by his eyes working their way down his face pulsing with power.
“L-Lance stop please.” Allura begged.
“I can see…” he mumbled.
“See what?” She asked as she moved slowly towards him.
“Everything…” Allura pulled him away and the light faded away. Lance collapsed in her arms breathing heavily.
They were all so focused on Lance that they forgot Haggar had seen it all.
She had believed the Voiders had been wiped out completely. A single one could offer them more power then and entire Balmera.
“I accept you deal. We will make the exchange shortly.”
With that the screen turned black and everyone was left in stunned silence.
Allura looked down at her little brother as he opened his eyes. “Oh Lance… what have you done.”
An hour later they were ready for the exchange.
Lance was in his paladin armour and was trying to put on a brace face.
“Don’t worry guys, I trust you to save me.” He grinned but like the others he had tears in his eyes.
Lance you idiot… why?“
Keith asked as he pulled him into a hug.
“Because mullet… I have more time then Shiro does. You saw that infection, he needs a pod soon as possible.”
“He’s right… this was a smart decision.” Allura looked pained to even admit it.
She had lost so much to the hands of the Galra and now she was giving them her little brother… the only family she had left.
Lance pulled away and closed the air lock.
“Took me sacrificing myself for you to finally admit I was right about something.”
He laughed but it came out more as a scared sob.
The others could only watch as he jetted over to where Shiro was being held by a guard.
“L-Lance?” Shiro asked. Through his fever induced haze he saw how Lance smiled sadly at him.
“Don’t worry buddy, your going home.”
That was the last thing Shiro remembered before he fell out of the healing pod a couple days later.
For the first time ever, Alec walked into the Hunter’s Moon without Magnus by his side. He swallowed a groan when he didn’t catch sight of his warlock of a boyfriend,the latter having been the one who decided on where and when they should meet. Letting out a breath, Alec walked further into the venue, trying to convey both of Isabelle’s confidence and Jace’s nonchalance while matching it to his own indifference. He was aware of the sudden silence that had followed his arrival. Alec noticed the glowing glares of the wolves and heard the vampires hiss. Alec was aware that the faeries’ whispers were about him and rolled his eyes at the oblivious - and obvious - mundanes, staring at his unglamoured runes in awe. Alec allowed himself a sigh of relief when he reached the bar counter and caught sight of Maia’s curls. The young werewolf was busy tending to others patrons and had yet to notice him. A few steps away stood Bat, the newest - unfortunate - addition to Luke’s pack.
Alec found himself holding his breath when Bat looked away from the glass he was drying and in his direction. Bat’s eyes widened in recognition, his Apple Adam bobbing up and down before he decided to make his way to him, towel slung over his shoulder. Alec went to meet him, crossing both arms over the counter.
“Can I get you anything, sir?”
Biting back a laugh at the honorific, Alec cleaned his throats and, ignoring the curious eyes tracing the rune on his neck, leaned forward.
“I was supposed to meet Magnus here, I was wondering if you had seen him around tonight.”
Prompt 28: Noting tension between Katniss and the baker’s youngest son, carefree and mischievous Prim can’t resist pranking her annoyingly uptight and very responsible sister. [submitted by @567inpanem]
Notes: Rated All Ages, Never-reaped!Everlark, Complete.
Announces the end of bad-stand-ideas. It’s been very hard for us to keep content constant thanks to school and work. So I shall announce and end, if not an indefinite hiatus, to this blog. I’m thankful for the almost 5k followers that we had and my small taste of internet fame I’ve always wanted. I am thankful for everyone who participated and every mod who helped keep this last train home going. For those who still want content I’d suggest following @trading-clown-game and another blog I’ve attempted to work on, if I do something will it I’ll post about it. Now I must say thank you everyone, and have a good day
- Survivor, the stand that Dio said was the worst stand ever
Summary: Dean x Reader - Dean and the reader goes on a Halloween candy raid to stock up their sugar arsenal.
Triggers: None, just fluff
Word Count: 3894
Y/N = Your name ¦ Y/L/N = Your Last Name ¦
Y/H/C = Your hair colour
¦ Y/E/C = Your Eye Colour
I’m trying to write a seasonal story a day up towards Halloween in my “Halloween Bonanza”. This is the next one, number 4, this time it’s Dean fluff!
“You ready to go (Y/N)?” Dean was already in the
doorway leading out of the bunker when you walked out of your room, dressed and
clearly ready to go.
“Yup,” You said, smiling up at him and tying your
(Y/H/C) hair in a loose ponytail as you basically bounced up the steps to where
he was waiting patiently. Well… Waiting. The jury was still out on the patience
The hunter was nearly bouncing up and down in
excitement as he waited for you to join him by the door so that he could hurry
you out towards the Impala. Sure, you were excited too. Though it was clearly
for a different reason. Namely, the chance of spending some time alone with the
man you had secretly been in love with for years.
“You got the list?” Dean asked when you finally
reached him, his eyes going to the bag slung over your shoulder before bright
green eyes locked with yours expectantly.
“Yes Dean,” You said with a raised eyebrow, slightly
shrugging the shoulder your bag was hanging from to make the bag bounce a
little and draw the attention back to it before you got lost in the fairy tale
forest in his eyes.
“You know the plan yeah?” Dean continued,
apparently still feeling the need to interrogate you, though he seemed to want
nothing more than to hurry on out the door.
“God Dean,” You finally sighed, nudging the oldest
Winchester with your shoulder before walking past him and into the cool autumn
air outside. “You’d think we were going on a hunt instead of just raiding
stores for Halloween candy,”
“We need to stock up!” Dean insisted, once more
jumping on the sales pitch he’d thrown your way when he first invited you along
on his yearly Trick or Treat raid. “It’s the….”
“…Easiest time of year to buy bucket loads
without weird looks and saving a few bucks as well,” You interrupted, finishing
his pitch for him before you started walking backwards towards the car with a
grin, loving the boyish smile he gave you in return as he joined you. Ready to
raid a few stores for Halloween goodies and return back to the bunker to share
I wanted to offer this as my prelude or caution! caution! post about my work on AH’s friendships. AH was a prolific writer yet unlike many of his contemporaries, he left no journal or diary, and almost no retrospective essays. Therefore, in examining AH’s personal life - or rather, trying to evaluate AH’s credibility, which is what I’m trying to do - we’re inordinately dependent on his correspondence, and they’re not necessarily telling us what we think they’re telling us.
The obvious problem is that letters don’t tell the whole story of relationships. They are useful, but they require that: 1) the letters survive; 2) the correspondents actually be apart; 3) we’re not missing relevant background from when the correspondents were together.
First, it’s striking just how many letters are missing. Some letters were lost; others were certainly destroyed. Almost all of AH’s personal and non-military correspondence to Gouverneur Morris and Philip Schuyler, which we know from other notes existed, is gone. This is a huge loss of both political and personal information about AH. We know that AH planned to send coded letters containing politically sensitive information during the Washington presidency to Morris; these are gone. We don’t have the letter AH actually sent to his father-in-law explaining his reasons for his resignation as Washington’s aide-de-camp. Letters related to AH’s financial dealings for John B. Church - that may suggest insider trading - are suspiciously missing. By my rough estimate, over 50 letters from AH to Elizabeth Hamilton are missing, and this just based on letters referenced in other letters that we have.
Second, with several of AH’s relationships post-war, the correspondents were infrequently apart. The longest letters from AH to EH are from 1780 and 1781, when they were apart for the longest periods of time because of the war. After that, they are living in the same home and their time apart is infrequent and lasts at most 2 months or so (and very rarely that long). We just aren’t likely to get long, emotionally revealing pages out of that; instead, we usually get updates on travel and health, endearments, and reminders that EH write him.
This also makes the letters misleading. AH writes to wartime friends such as McHenry, Meade, and Lafayette with warmth and emotion that he doesn’t often to a lot of other friends. From this, we can speculate that he feels special ties to them that he doesn’t to others. The problem with that argument is that he was also apart from them much more than he was with other friends.
One person who falls into all three categories above is Nicholas Fish. This was one of AH’s longest and probably closest friendships, and AH obviously had a great deal of trust and confidence in him. Fish was a NYC native whom AH likely first met at King’s College, where the former had moved from the College of New Jersey to study law. They formed a composition and speaking club together (with Robert Troup, Edward Stevens, and Samuel and Henry Nicoll); they enlisted in the militia together in spring 1775, although they go separate ways for most of the war. AH probably personally selected Fish as his second-in-command when he received his own field command in July 1781, and was with him at Yorktown. [Fish later provides both Timothy Pickering and EH with details about AH during the war.] Jumping ahead over a decade, Fish serves as AH’s second in his affair of honor with Nicholson (1795). Jump ahead another decade, and he’s one of the executors of AH’s will. Fish names his only son (born in 1808) Hamilton.
But on Founders, we only have six letters between the two of them, and four are formal letters from the war or about patronage positions or business. One of the two personal letters we do have is missing context. Since most of their lives were lived in NY, they probably did not frequently have reason to write each other long letters. But I also suspect Fish took the opportunity after AH’s death to reclaim his letters. It’s like their close friendship has been wiped clean from history.
We know Gouvernour Morris was asked to help sort through AH’s mess of papers and correspondence in 1807. Considering their roles as Executors, I think it’s very likely Fish, Church, and Nathaniel Pendleton had the opportunity to go through AH’s correspondence. It’s also possible that Robert Troup was involved. We know Pendleton came to be in possession of AH’s documents related to the drafting of Washington’s Farewell Address, because he gives them to Rufus King in 1810 to keep them out of the hands of EH.
In the case of several of the men above, they still had active political careers and were otherwise concerned about their own and AH’s political legacies. The PAH notes that Morris “[had removed from his own collection those Hamilton] letters such as ought not to fall into the hands of those who might publish them.”
So we can see a shaping of a narrative after AH’s death by his friends, and then we get further distortions because of the large number of missing letters. Because we have so little else about AH, letters are enormously helpful, but they paint a very partial picture. Those are my words of caution.
An additional note: it’s interesting how large some of the men above loom in biographies and histories published in the 19th through early 20th century, when these men - and/or their politically active descendants - were still well-known. As time has passed, there’s been a forgetting of these men that has played out in the AH narrative too - AH is now portrayed as nearly friendless in his post-war life, which would certainly come as a shock to Troup, Fish, and Morris, who were as steadfast in 30+ years of friendship as one could ever be, and Oliver Wolcott, Rufus King, and Pendleton, who by every other indication all formed deep friendships with AH after the war. And William Duer, the long-time friendship that AH-fandom historians most wish had been scrubbed from history.
Anakin reached out and pushed Obi-Wan’s hair off his forehead. It wasn’t often that he got the chance to see Obi-Wan like this. Soft, unguarded. HIs perpetual frown gone, replaced with the openness of sleep that made Anakin’s chest hurt, just a little.
He should have expected Obi-Wan’s quiet rebellion. While he occasionally offered up a retort - Obi-Wan wouldn’t be Obi-Wan if he completely refrained from sarcasm - he often refused Anakin’s bait and the banter that had previously dominated their relationship was gone.
Anakin had known the transition from proud Jedi to cosseted war prisoner would be difficult for Obi-Wan. In the beginning, Anakin had been glad for it. He’d wanted Obi-Wan to suffer, if not pain than humiliation. But as time passed, as they began to spend time together, as he watched Obi-Wan dote on his children, Anakin’s hatred began to evolve back into the adoration he’d once felt for his former master.
Palpatine was beginning to notice. He began needling Anakin in the most obnoxious ways. The rebellion, a constant source of conflict, was growing stronger and Palpatine blamed Anakin’s perceived weakness for it. That day, after the bombing of an important trade route, Palpatine had suggested a public execution to strike despair in the heart of the rebellion.
That was what had sent Anakin to these rooms; to his small family; to his solace. Rage slithered low in his stomach and he carefully pet Obi-Wan’s hair. While Obi-Wan’s death was unacceptable, an execution might still be on the table. Palpatine was beginning to wear out his welcome and more importantly, his usefulness.
“That he would dare deny me this,” Anakin muttered, leaning down and brushing a kiss against Obi-Wan’s forehead, reaching down to carefully run his fingers first through Luke’s hair, and then Leia’s. “That he would dare suggest I give this up.”
Here’s the main event! @sparrowatheart and I meeting her cousins and I spread a little of my own Disney magic to impress my future wife lol. We talked about how my eyebrows were frosted and how I wanted to have a cape, then Elsa suggested we trade frosty eyebrows for a cape :D hope you can hear it well! I WISH YOU COULD SEE THE SNOW I HAD! When I put it on YouTube, you’ll be able to see it xD …stupid tiny screen lol. I’m sure if you look hard enough, you’ll see it.
#jackfrost #cosplay #mickeyshalloweenparty #mickeysnotsoscaryhalloweenparty #jelsa #otp #jackunzel #JackunzeldoesDisneyland #anna #disney #disneyland #californiaadventure #riseoftheguardians #jackfrostcosplay #frostplay
This is a continuation of the first twenty Animal Crossing suggestions. You can find them here.
The ability to choose your villagers’ housing locations. If you own Animal Crossing, you most likely know the pain of town planning. Villagers will constantly move into the worst spots. There should be a way to choose the exact location of their house.
Putting patterns in front of buildings. Although this can be avoided by placing flowers next to the building instead, it’s often annoying to have to deal with this, especially when there are two tiles that cannot contain patterns in front of a building.
More detailed patterns. Although patterns are 32 pixels in height and width, there should be an option to make them 64 for better resolution, especially for pixel art.
Once again, more villagers in each town. I stated this in the first post, but I believe everyone strongly wants to have more than ten villagers in their town.
More pattern slots (suggested by wtfxgame). I think we can all agree that there aren’t enough pattern slots. It’s also annoying that when you place a path, you have to leave it in your pattern inventory unless you want shirt patterns all over the ground, which leads to having characters that are completely devoted to storing pathways. When you save the pathway at Able Sisters, all of the pathways shouldn’t change.
Typing with the megaphone. Everyone has experienced calling a villager with the megaphone time and time again and being answered by the wrong villager. There should also just be an option to type the villager’s name in so that Kapp'n doesn’t reply to every call.
Bushes bloom longer. Whether or not it’s realistic, it’s annoying that bushes only bloom one to two months.
Trees that stay pink for the majority of the year. Similar to the above suggestion, many people would appreciate having separate cherry blossom trees that were in bloom for at least several months.
Villagers don’t move out if you talk to them too much. Sometimes I’m scared to talk to Diana and Apple too much because they’re my dreamies and I don’t want to annoy them to the point that they move. I think we all know this feeling.
Dog villagers with pointy ears. The fact that all dog villagers have floppy ears really limits the amount of dog villagers that there can be. I mean, who doesn’t want a villager that looks like this?
More complex town tunes. Most songs have sharps and flats in them, which Animal Crossing doesn’t allow you to use. Also, there should be more notes that you can use to make the tune longer. You should also be able to create multiple notes that play at once to create chords and change the length of those notes. I don’t know how it could be set up, but there is definitely a way to do it, such as having the different note lengths as options. There could even be bass notes or something.
More flowers. This could also mean that certain flowers could come in more colors, like roses could come in light blue, carnations could come in other colors, and tulips could come in dark and light blue.
A handheld MP3 player. Playing music at your house is cool and all, but it would be amazing if you could play music on the go? (Wow that sounded like an infomercial)
Make Bianca’s eyes less freaky. Please.
Get rid of the balloon set. I don’t even bother to shoot balloons anymore. Seriously, who wants that ugly crap? It doesn’t even sell for much.
More public works projects slots. There are only thirty public works projects slots, which isn’t really that much considering there are like five styles of benches and street lamps. Really, you could use every slot on lamps. I don’t use them for that reason. I’d rather have none that just a couple in the entire town.
Hoodies because I said so.
Stop villagers from completely trashing their own houses. Villagers should be able to have a better taste in furniture and not display items that don’t match at all or are completely hideous.
More non-fruit trees. This could include birch trees, willow trees, yellow trees, purple trees, red trees, and once again, cherry blossom trees that are pink for several months.
Villager voodoo dolls. I want to stab Coach. Just kidding. Not really.
Reblog and like this post if you agree. Include your suggestions or send them to my ask and I will include them in the next post if I make one.