#I do this with other things but the anime thing and the fanfic thing is the most obvious probably

[howtofightwrite]

I'm planning on writing a Pokemon fanfic where the trainer is hard of hearing. They can speak and give commands but it is also normal for trainers to hear the opposing trainers commands and respond to that not just what they see. Which would put them at a big disadvantage, wouldn't it if they could only process visual information? I know you said stuff before about combat being too fast and people don't 'call out attacks' but that doesn't fit here. But also on the other hand, Pokemon don't alwa

But also on the other hand, Pokemon don't always obey their their trainers (usually a trust issue) but perhaps this actually could be a good thing and help turn that disadvantage around since if they trust each other enough for the Pokemon to respond appropriately by themselves if they feel the trainer is making a bad call or not quick enough to respond to an attack called out by the opposing trainer. What do you think? Any other ideas?

Something to remember: Pokemon is a game. I don't mean in the meta-sense that the anime and ancillary materials are based off of the video game and card game, the way you could, for example, describe the Fallout TV series as based on a game. I mean, literally, that the structure of Pokemon itself is a competitive game.

When you start stripping it apart, and really dig into the structure, combat in pokemon is a game where the trainers are the players, and their pokemon are the pieces they're using on the board. This is an important concept to grasp when you're dissecting the material, because it informs why it functions.

There is a concept in games called an action stack. When you're playing a strategically intensive game, you'll often come across some version of this concept. Basically, you announce your action to your opponent, they then get an opportunity to take a legal response (if one exists), and then the action resolves. In situations like this, calling out your actions is a necessary step in keeping your opponent apprised of changes in the game state. It's also (often) necessary as a step to give them the opportunity to respond (whether that's part of the same action stack, or as a following action.)

Now, much like in Pokemon, in casual games, these kinds of declarations, and even the structure of the action stack itself, can become very ad hoc. You wouldn't do this in a tournament environment, but in casual circumstances you'll see players doing things like say, “I'm playing this,” or just drop the card on the table as part of their appropriate action window. (Though, again, this behavior is extremely rude in a tournament environment.)

As you mentioned, the instructions given by the trainer is, technically, for the Pokemon's benefit, rather than the opponent. Also, pieces on the board not following the player's commands is a concept that does exist in some tabletop games. For example: if you botch a Leadership test in Warhammer, you're not going to get the results you were hoping for.

So in this specific case, being privy to your opponent's actions ahead of time is really more an example of intelligence gathering (even though it's at a very limited level.) And, this is, absolutely, a consideration in competitive games. If you can accurately predict your opponent's next action it can let you take preemptive steps to mitigate their move, or even outright prevent them from doing what they want.

Not being able to collect intelligence conventionally is a little bit of a problem, but it's not necessarily a deal breaker. A lot of the time, intelligence gathering in games (for an experienced player) is testing limited information against extensive system knowledge to make educated guesses about what your opponent will do. If you have awareness of the board, you don't always need to actually have specific knowledge about what your opponent is planning. Meaning, if they're extremely knowledgeable about what's out there, they might not need to hear their opponents' every command. With enough familiarity, each pokemon is recognizable on sight, and they have limited move options determined by their appearance (with the occasional outlier or exception.)

Also, lipreading is a thing. It's a lot harder when you're just sampling general use of the language, but when you're looking at a limited number of individual words (and you know which words could be issued because of the aforementioned system knowledge) it can become quite possible for someone to pick out what a trainer is telling their pokemon, even if they wouldn't be able to hear the words normally (or lipread a stray conversation between strangers.)

Incidentally, if you're thinking that it's unreasonable for someone to have the stat sheets for over 1k pokemon committed to memory, that's in line with what you need to have committed to memory for a number of competitive games, if you're operating at a high level. Chances are, if you're a highly ranked M:TG player, you'll probably have at least 2-3k cards committed to memory even if you can't use them in Modern anymore.

-Starke

[longtallglasses]

coopermyagent’s byler fanfic post

chaptered fics

The Blair Witch Project - (95,803 words) E rating - blair witch project (1999) au, horror, gore, ghosts, haunting etc.

Will hasn’t been handed that many good things in his life. Piece of shit dad, growing up gay in a small town, falling in love with his straight best friend, and oh yeah, spending a traumatic week when he was twelve lost out in the woods that he still can’t recall to this day. But the one thing he always had was his friends. The Party.

However, entering their second year of college the party have drifted apart; maybe a weekend spent making Mike’s student documentary on the Blair Witch can bring them closer again? And maybe Will can still hold onto something good.

OR as a bookmarker once said “will has an unknown past! mike is a gay mess! they go in the woods and everything comes crashing down! on the edge of your seat madness twists and turns all while being erotic? and gorey? and sweet?”

it happens each day - WIP E rating - lighthouse keeper au, horror, cannibalism, gore etc.

Fall, 1977. Dear Mr. Wheeler, We are pleased to offer you the temporary position at Egg Rock Lighthouse. Your experience and passion for the light keeper post is greatly appreciated and we look forward to meeting you and your partner at the start of October. Attached you will find detailed directions on how to find your way depending on your transportation. As you know the lighthouse is quite secluded so we advise to pack accordingly for the coming months. We've also attached a few brochures about the history of the area, you'll find some informative while others quite humorous. You'll come to grow very accustomed to seeing Amaren's phrases around the property. We hope this is the start of a smooth and mutually beneficial working relationship for you at Egg Rock Lighthouse. Most cordially, The Board at Egg Rock

If it takes all night... - WIP E rating - vampire!mike au

Mike needs to get over his feelings for Will before it kills him. Literally. After a night out with a mysterious stranger turns into a surprise vampire attack that he should've seen coming, Will comes in to save his skin with a makeshift stake to the heart. However, the real nightmare begins when Mike starts showing signs of turning into a vampire himself. But Will is willing to do anything to help him survive... anything.

fluffy one shots

We’re So Lucky - (4,192 words) T rating -

Will gets very drunk at a party.

Mike takes care of him and they talk about their first sexual experiences and their desire for each other all while trying to not hook up.

heaven (let my love open the door) - (14,161 words) G rating -

it's valentine's day 1981, the boys give each other candy, but Mike has something extra for Will.

it's valentine's day 1989, and Mike and Will want to finally get a valentine's day to themselves. they both have special things in store.

but flurry you’re my best friend - (5,558 words) G rating -

Will had been sitting close behind him, leaning back on the head board, and now Mike’s upper half was laid out on his lap and chest.

“Oh sorry, I-” Mike is pulling himself up, but Will’s hand is on his shoulder, and it’s burning again.

“No, it’s okay,” and Will pulls him back down, his legs maneuvering around him, until Mike’s back is flush with Will’s chest and Mike no longer has a single thought going through his mind.

In the midst of trying to get five stars on his animal crossing island, Mike accidentally falls into his feelings for Will, literally.

featuring Will being very supportive of Mike's island and Mike wants better gifts from his villagers

one more… please? (tell it like it is) - (4,457 words) G rating -

Mike was in for the shock of his life when Will gave him a kiss on the forehead.

What's even more shocking is how he's now scheming to get more?

It’s Cute - (996 words) G rating -

Will didn’t mean for it to happen. Honestly he had kind of forgotten. He didn’t even really think about it anymore.

But there they were in his bedroom, and Mike had plucked it out from under his comforter, “Is this my sweater?”

i can be your canvas? - (2,058 words) G rating -

Will's all out of blank canvases... but Mike's in the room so...

that hot, huh? - (1,157 words) T rating -

That hot, huh?” Mike teases, his face still smeared with blood. “Shut up,” Will groans, his head tilted back at a sharp angle. He experimentally lowers his head, only for a fresh wave of blood to pour out, sending Mike into another fit of laughter. “I hate you,” Will moans, “stop laughing,” “I- can’t-” Mike wheezes.

bittersweet goodbyes - (1,612 words) G rating -

mike and will have a dramatic goodbye ritual and lucas is so over it.

you're so cute i could eat you - (3,832 words) G rating-

Mike gets a case of serious cuteness aggression when it comes to Will... but Will doesn't really seem to mind.

Two Halloweens - October, 1979 & 1983...

angst and or horror one shots

these fatal fantasies - (10,008 words) T rating - guilty as sin? song fic, mike pov

He wanted to stop doing this, he needed to stop doing this. He just worked himself up and he couldn’t escape it. It was driving him insane, he’d wake up in the night and not be able to stop his hand. His mind supplying him with Will and all these inane scenarios where they somehow ended up in his room, or in the basement, or the school bathroom, and everything started happening so fast.

He felt like shit afterward.

Am I allowed to cry?

OR

Mike's mind has been in shambles the entire week leading up to his trip to California. He hasn't spoken to Will properly in months, his friends feel a million miles away, El seems to be doing great without him, people are dying in San Francisco, and Mike has been imagining things he wishes he wasn't. He wishes he could just throw it all away.

i just may be a daredevil (can you feel my heart?) - (10,342 words) T rating -

Will doesn’t have anything to lose anymore, and Mike can’t lose him. The two go hurtling towards an inevitable precipice where the only option might be to go tumbling down together, limbs grappling for each other, flesh melding, and heartbeats syncing in time.

OR

Will’s composure cracks and beats up their middle school bully, finishing the job Mike started. :)

you make me feel like i am free again - (6,351 words) E rating -

The summer of 1982 is nearing an end. Will and the party are trying to enjoy the last moments of heat before the new school year begins, Will especially. Lonnie just split a few months prior and Will is trying to understand the storm that never seems to stop brewing inside him. That is until one day the storm is unleashed. Waves of blood and rushes of relief are spilled. He should be frightened, he should be horrified, but all he feels is an intoxicating sense of control. Mike seems to enjoy it too.

OR

will's got crazy telekinetic powers? he unleashes wrath upon everyone? and mike cheers him on? miwi being bloody deranged boys.

lesbyler!

a plesio-what now? - (1,538 words) G rating -

michelle and willow make out in a library. that's it.

your kind of pretty - (1,699 words) G rating -

Willow wants Michelle to make her pretty like her...

flashback, warm nights - (1,104 words) G rating -

Snowball songs make Michelle and Willow want to finally do what they've always dreamt of doing.

[d3athmaskd1v1n3]

Hello, welcome to the Yandere side of fanfic! I have seen your first fanfic, and it is good! Can you write another one with Dr.Crane as a psychology professor who takes an interest in his quiet student and decides to kidnap her one day because he feels he is the only one who truly knows her?

Case studies

Johnathan Crane x Fem!reader

(Squueeeee! My first request! I hope you like it. I took a few creative liberties with it, I hope you don't mind. I got to writing as soon as I got the request.) (TW! Kidnapping and inappropriate student/teacher dynamics)

She was a good student, but she was… spacey. One could call her meek, odd, quiet, like she'd shatter and break at any moment. She had the demeanour of a prey animal.

She would often space out during lectures, lost in her daydreams. Because of this, she often asked her professors to repeat themselves. As you could imagine, plenty of professors found (Y/N) annoying, but Professor Crane was different. He took his status as an educator very seriously, and almost seemed delighted to help (Y/N).

The small chats they had after class, the emails she’d send to him to inform him she was late, the questions she’d ask during lectures, it all painted the image not of a dimwitted girl, but of one who was clearly intelligent yet far too…

Fearful.

It was elementary to deduce that was the source of his obsession. Fear was his domain. It's what his research was built on. To see somebody who's natural state of being seemed to be that of trepidation was like dangling a piece of meat in front of a hungry dog.

“I'm sorry for asking too many questions during class today, sir.” she said one day after an especially lengthy lecture. “I didn't mean to drag it on like that. I know I must have ticked off the other students.”

“It's quite alright, Ms. (L/N). In fact, I was glad to see you speak up more.” he smiles as he reassures her. He isn't the most handsome man, being rather tall, gaunt and gangly, but his words and his smile filled her with a warm, comforting feeling.

“You did?”

“Of course! It makes me happy to see young people who are so eager to learn.” he paused for a moment, the gears in his head turning.

“You know, I find it interesting how quiet you are. You're an intelligent young woman, yet you go about your day constantly worrying about the thoughts and feelings of others. Tell me, Ms. (L/N), why is that?”

That question made (Y/N) falter for a minute. It came out of left field.

“To be honest, I don't know. I’ve always been like this, I guess.” she answered.

“Most people don't know why they do the things they do, or act the way they act. They simply believe it's in their nature. I disagree, however. People tend to learn unconscious lessons in their childhood that carries into how they behave in adulthood.” Crane explains.

“Yes, yes, I know. We’ve covered this in class, remember?”

“Of course I do, Ms. (L/N). I'm merely thinking out loud, you see.”

“You're wondering what happened in my childhood that taught me to be so flighty?” (Y/N) asked. This made Crane let out a soft chuckle.

“Always quick to follow, aren't you? I like that about you.”

“So what is your guess?”

Crane liked how bold she’d become when they spoke one on one. Seeing her come out of her shell made him feel prideful.

“You were bullied and your teachers didn't do anything about it. Because of this, you learned to keep your head down and not to complain when things go badly for you.” Crane replied with confidence. “You learned that other people are out to get you. That anyone can be a potential bully. Those who aren't bullies are enablers, and enablers are always those who have authority, like your teachers.”

“That's pretty specific. Suspiciously specific.”

“Did I get it right?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath before nodding. It was eerie how spot on he was.

“I'm a psychologist. I know how these things work. I also get the feeling you have had your brain picked before. Have you ever gone to see a psychiatrist?”

Again, he’s spot on.

“Yeah… I’ve been to my fair share of psychiatrists.”

“I thought so. You have a unique mind. It's a shame people dismiss you.”

She couldn't lie, hearing him say that makes her feel happy.

With that, she quickly and politely said her goodbyes and left the lecture hall. Crane lingered there for a while, still thinking, analysing and dissecting everything about (Y/N).

As she got off the city bus and made her way home, (Y/N) felt the November chill hit her skin. It was dark out.

Damn these late classes. She thought to herself.

She didn't hear the footsteps behind her.

With one swift motion, her assailant grabbed her, putting a cloth over her mouth and nose.

She thrashed about, trying desperately to shake her attacker off of her.

“Deep breaths, Ms. (L/N), take deep breaths.” a familiar voice rings out in the night. Is that…?

Before she can finish that thought, the world around her fades away.

When she awoke, the first thing she noticed was the smell of food wafting in from another room. Then, she looked around. It appeared like she was in a guest bedroom. The bed was covered with warm quilt blankets, and the room was nicely yet sparsely decorated. It would have been rather cozy if she knew where the hell she was.

The next thing she noticed was the fact her hands were tied. Shit. She can't do much without the use of her hands. She can't even grasp the doorknob.

She felt panic start to set in. Just what the hell is going on?

The door to the small guest room opened, and Jonathan Crane entered with a plate of eggs and bacon.

“I knew you'd be hungry when you woke up. You slept through dinner last night.”

Last night? So it must be the morning, then.

“I can't eat without the use of my hands.” (Y/N) said. Despite the panic she felt, she had to be smart. There's no use in putting up a fuss if it could get her in trouble.

“Right you are. I didn't want you sneaking off while I wasn't in the room to watch you. You sleep very soundly, you know?”

He set the plate on the bedside table, then untied her hands.

“Now, I know you must be very alarmed, but do not fret, my dear. I’m not going to harm you like my other students.”

“Huh?!” she couldn't even hide your shock at what he just said.

“Oh, surely you've noticed a few of your peers missing from class as the semester went on.”

“I-I just assumed they dropped the class.” she stammered a bit.

“No, no… I merely needed some test subjects for my research. I can't study fear without scaring the living hell out of people, now can I?” he let out a laugh like he just told an innocent joke.

“But don't worry, dear (Y/N). I don't see the use in subjecting you to such a thing.” he watched as she picked up the plate of food and slowly begin to eat. She didn't even feel like eating after hearing your professor just admit to torturing people, but she was hungry.

“Do you like it? I hope you enjoy scrambled eggs. If not, I’ll make sure to make them differently next time.”

“Why aren't you going to torture me?” she asked, setting the plate back down on the table.

“Why? I have much more interesting things to learn from you than how you’d respond to fear. After all, you're always such an anxious mess, aren't you, dearest?” he responded with honey in his words, as if he was talking to his beloved and not his student. “No… I want to know about the rest of you. I want to know the sides of you that even you don't know about. The parts of you that are buried beneath that fear.”

He lifted a hand up to her face, cupping it gently. She looked into his eyes. His eyes were full of warmth, but that did nothing to comfort her at all.

“(Y/N), it's alright. I’ll take care of you…

As long as you let me study you.”

[xotication]

horny reader who sits on ken’s lap..

ken who only leans back & says “make yourself feel good”

that is all, i fear.

[loverboybrightsideghost]

“you finally got adopted” really got to me because how long do you think eugene and lance hoped and hoped and hoped that they would get adopted, but they never did. and then they gave up and ran away. but he finally got adopted 🥺

[inferno-silentdragon]

Comic for the OMORI fic: Swim Against the Tide

Heyo hi-o everyone, just a quick bit of warnings for this cause it’s not my usual bit of fanart. First off, major spoilers for OMORI and this is a pretty far off scene in @tsukithewolf​‘s fanfic so be sure to read that. Along with that, since it’s a nightmare, there’s blood, gore, and other unsettling things in this comic so view at your own discretion. With that said, please enjoy! 

[happyk44]

"I'm not leaving you behind! It is my duty," he hissed. "I swore myself-"

"Your swore yourself because you had no choice, Percy." Her eyes were endless dark, devoid of feeling, of life. "You had a price to pay for your mother's life and this was your only offer." Her thin fingers cup his face through the bars. "You didn't choose to be my protector." She gave a weak laugh that made his stomach plummet to the floor. "You're not even my guard yet, not really."

Like a phantom, her touch slid down his cheek. He caught her wrist before her fingertip stopped gracing his skin. He could feel the rounded edge of her fingernail poke against him. Silence held fraught between them.

"Bianca-"

"Percy," she cut in, voice so sharp it cut him to the core. "I want you to survive. You're free. Take advantage of that, and go. Now."

"I can't go back without you," he said, quickly. She didn't fight his hold, but still his grip tightened. As though the harder he held her, the more she would stop protesting her escape. "You are-"

"Dead." Her lips thinned. "I'm dead, Percy. I was dead the moment they got their hands on me and I will be dead before either one of us even makes it beyond these walls, but you-" Her voice cracked, eyes watering.

He shook his head. Blood pounded in his ears. He didn't want to hear what she was going to say, wanted her to stop, wanted it all to stop. Just for a moment.

But it didn't, and neither did she. With a deep breath, she carried on, "You can make it. You can live. But only if you leave without me, so go."

His lungs burned. She inhaled so deeply, spoke so forcefully, and it made him hold the air in his chest until he couldn't take it anymore. If he didn't breathe, maybe she would. But his chest ached. Self-loathing wedged itself like a rock in his throat as he let go. The sound of his own breath was like nail on chalkboard.

"Percy," she whispered. He shook his head and leaned in closer. Although tears hadn't yet fallen, her eyes were still wet. They glistened like the night sky. Her forehead pressed against the bars.

He looked away. The brick wall to his left was growing a fair bit of moss in the corner. "What's our star again?"

She laughed. It was a watery thing that choked him where he stood. Memories of standing the long grass, moonlight shining off the river, while she read her books beside him. Every so often, she'd look up at the night sky and search for the brightest star that month. She'd tell the stories behind the constellations. Or at least the stories from her kingdom. Any time she told a story, a fantastical myth, she'd follow up that her brother knew more - Nico, the quiet prince with a voracious appetite for legends and monsters.

Then, if she could spot the brightest star that month and if she recalled, she'd tell him what it meant for the people born that month. At least, in their hemisphere anyway. The stars were different elsewhere. Sometimes she'd crack open the newspaper, the stark image of her father, and read aloud the horoscopes.

He still remembered the incredulous sound she made when he told her they shared the same birthday. She'd dragged him to the library to refresh her memory on their star. Then argued furiously that he did not share the same traits as her.

It was a silly thing. She didn't believe it. He didn't either. But it was the first time they hadn't played the stiff act of royal princess and her knight-in-training. Not Percy holding his tongue and following strictly one step behind. Not Bianca doing her best to pretend he wasn't her shadow.

Awkward civility and stiffness carried thick between them from the moment Percy had been casted into his role. But that night, with the sound of yelling and laughter still echoing in their ears, they made an agreement. They didn't have to be the best of friends, but they sure could be casual with each other. After all, they were going to be stuck with each other for the rest of their lives.

At least... they were supposed to be.

Slowly each finger detached one by one until all that was left was his palm pressed against her wrist. Then that fell away too. Still he couldn't bare to turn his head and face her.

"Leo," she said. "The lion. Strength, pride, loyalty, confidence."

A stabbed orange toy on new year's day passed through his mind. "Sacrifice."

It was quiet for a beat. Then, "Yes." His heart hammered so fast he could feel it in his throat. "The lion represents sacrifice."

What was he supposed to say? He wanted to run, to turn the lock with the key he stole, take her and run. Run far and fast. But deep inside, he knew she was right. He could get by undetected. No one cared about a child knight, not even yet passed his training. He could blend in and slip out. Even if he got caught, they wouldn't nearly put in as much effort to get him back as they would if she were with him.

She was right.

She was already dead.

He swallowed thickly and met her eyes again. The night sky glistened back at him and he thought of constellations and warm handshakes and kind agreements and silly arguments. Breath caught in his throat. "I'll miss you," he whispered, voice hoarse.

Her lips twitched. "I'll miss you too." She blinked, and one tear slid down her cheek. He tracked the wet trace it left behind until it welled up at the bottom of her chin and dripped to the floor. "Will you do me a favour?"

"You're my princess," he said. "I would do anything for you."

It was a weak smile she gave before she spoke. The sight of it crushed him. "Tell my family I love them." Her breath escaped from her shakily. She pushed back her hair. A classic move to hide the nerves that drove her hands to tremble ever so slightly. "And take care of Nico. Please."

"I will," he promised.

Her smile strengthened ever so slightly. But the tears fell fast now, one right after the other. Her face tilted away at the first streak. He immediately turned his line of sight back to the brick wall. Weakness, sadness, grief - she hated being seen with any of them. He always respected it. Look away until she was done. Don't speak, don't ask her anything, don't help her. Just look away and stay silent unless she calls out.

So, even as his mind's eye was trapped in the wet track of tears on her skin, the hitched sound of her breath holding in a cry, he turned and headed back for the dungeon's door. The doorknob twisted in his hand. The door cracked open.

"Percy."

He held stiff. "Yes?"

"Don't forget the bracelet."

Heat burned at the back of his head. In his pocket, the bracelet felt heavier than the weight of the world. When he had first arrived, she gave it to him. When he refused to take it, insistent that she could deliver it to Nico herself, she shoved it into his pocket herself. Like a ghostly stain, his thigh still tingled with the forceful and firm press of her hand. He was sure it always would.

"I won't."

"Stay safe," she said, a princess in a dungeon ready and waiting to die.

His heart shattered. Still, he kept his head held high. "I will."

Then, without another word, he left the girl he had spent the last three years training to protect. He was meant to die for her. It was the role he had accepted the night he and his friends had stormed the castle and pleaded for help with his dying mother. He didn't argue. He didn't plead. Without hesitation, he swore his life away for hers. Without hesitation, he swore his last breath would be hers.

Yet she was the one embracing the eternal coldness to come. She was the one breathing weakly so he could breathe strong. She was trading away her life for his. She was the lion, giving a mighty roar before the dawn of a new year. She was the sacrifice, held down by chains with a glistening sharp blade raised above her head.

But he wasn't the one lowering it upon her neck. No, he was the cold breath of winter. The first drop of snow. The wilting grass. He was the barren wasteland that drove her out into the open. He was the starving masses desperate to live. He didn't have to drop the blade. He didn't have to use his own hands to spill her blood across the ground. His survival was her end. And that made him her killer anyway.

[eevee-eclair]

Whaaaat? Me? Posting writing? It’s less likely than you think (i have chronic eepy)

Today’s fic? New fandom flavor

[bisque-firedvampire]

Hey, you know how the Zelda community has, like, Linked Universe and Multiversal Links AUs?

Well, I propose a little offshoot of the marvel multiverse and spiderverse just for Morbius; As a treat! Like, there are enough distinct multimedia versions of him that it would be funny to set them all down in the same room.

Like for Tv/Cartoons you have TAS Morbius and Ultimate Spider-Man Morbius: you get both because they are very different characters, TAS being possibly the youngest version of Michael, and Ultimate being the most cowardly and closest to a villain.

For video games you would have Midnight Suns Morbius: I know that’s not the only video game version of him, but he’s the most fleshed out version of Michael in gaming.

In print media you can possibly have two of them: post 2013 616 Comic book Morbius (who has the sick from a young age background) and Book Morbius from that novel (he ties best into the 70s and magazine continuity of getting sick later in life)

And, of course, you have to have Movie version Morbius: like it or not, in universe, he is just another version of Michael, he doesn’t know how horribly written or acted he is! He deserves just as much sympathy as any other version. Plus, it could be very funny if he’s the meta one. like, because of how much Leto is bleeding out of that performance, he can see the fourth wall while in a multiversal setting. And he is deeply aware and ashamed by what he can see!

And well, as far as what they’d all do once together? I don’t know 🤷, what do Multimedia Morbs do? Look for a cure together? Compare love interests? Try to save Nikos from the timeline? Raise an infant B-Negative?

It would be up to us, Morbutauls

[e-adlirez]

Actually made a drabble this time

Summary says all, haha

If you need a bit of context, Professor Plotfur is a character from the Thea Stilton Mouseford Academy books, as part of the school's new Performing Arts department :3

[luvo27]

stress vs love cut scene concept from fabian's chapter!!

fabian's chapter ended up so much longer than i thought it would be. there was a scene concept where adaine and fabian break into rizs apartment to investigate and see if they can find out anything about baron, but it got scrapped for 1. time, 2. to avoid having to think about logistics, 3. the purpose it served for the plot/themes didnt work as much as i wanted it to, and while it probably would have worked out if i kept hammering at it, I'm happy with the chapter as it is. that being said, i have a few unfinished snippets to share!!

this scene was originally going to take place before the 2nd dream sequence:

“Whoever the fuck you are, I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it—Fabian? Adaine?” “Hi, Riz’s mom.” “What the fuck?” “Hi, Mrs. Gukgak,” Adaine says sheepishly, getting up from the floor. “Sorry about your window.” “The window’s—kids, what in the world are you doing here?” “We’re, um. We’re worried about Riz.” Sklonda sighs and puts down her gun. “Yeah,” she says. “Me too. Do you guys—you, or any of the other kids, do you have any idea what’s happening? He’s been so…” she rubs her forehead. There are bags under her eyes, Fabian realizes. “He hasn’t been like himself,” Sklonda finishes. “Do you think we could…” “Kids…look, normally, I might say yes. I’m really glad he’s got friends like you in his corner, but it’s three in the morning and he’s asleep, so—” “We should let him sleep. Yeah.” “Plus there might be—” Adaine shoves Fabian in the side. “Ow!” He clutches his side. “What was that for?” Sklonda eyes them suspiciously. “Kids? Is there something I should know about?” “Maybe. We’re not sure yet.” “Is it something dangerous? Is Riz in danger?” Adaine hesitates. “Maybe,” she says. “We don’t—that’s why we’re here. We think it’s…it’s complicated,” she finishes lamely. “It’s Baron,” Fabian says. Adaine shoves him again. “Ow!” Sklonda’s eyes sharpen. “Riz’s boyfriend. Yeah. I talked to Jawbone about it, do you—you kids have met Baron, right? Do you know anything about them? Anything you haven’t told us?” Adaine and Fabian look at each other. “Not really,” Adaine says unhappily. “They’re dating Riz, and they’re probably not great, considering they’re like, Nightmare King adjacent or something. But we don’t know how, or what, or why—we don’t know what’s happening with Riz.” “Okay. Okay. I really…Riz could use all the rest he can get, so—” “Yeah, we weren’t really planning to talk to him tonight anyways, what with the powerful evil partner—-” “Powerful evil partner?” “Uh. Yeah. You know about the hands?” “The what? I mean, I guess Kristen mentioned something about hands a while ago—” “Yeah, exactly. Mrs. Gukgak, the point is, we don’t want to put Riz in danger. Or any more than he’s in already. We’re just…we need more information. Normally, Riz is the one who’d be breaking and entering—” “Fabian.” “Ahem! I mean, gathering information.”

“We should have brought Gorgug.” “We should steal Riz’s tie.” “We cannot steal Riz’s tie.” “He’s asleep! And we’re trying to help him.” “Yeah, and you were trying to help him when you asked about Baron during lunch.” Adaine goes silent. “Sorry. I didn’t—sorry. You, uh. You tried. It’s not your fault.”

“Mrs. Gukgak, have you been having problems with your heating system?” “No. Not that I’ve noticed.” “You’re sure? No problems with your heater, or like, windows opened, or anything? It’s been normal? You haven’t felt colder than usual?” “Well, I mean…we don’t turn the heat on super high here. But now that you mention it, I think I’ve been wearing warmer clothes inside than I usually do. And I think Riz has started wearing gloves, but I thought he was trying out a new look, and I didn’t want—you know how he gets, right?” Adaine nods. Sklonda lets out a breath. “Yeah,” she says. “It’s not—I don’t know if it’s something big enough for me to really notice, but if it helps, I do think it’s been a bit chillier than normal. Why?” “Just…thinking. It might be connected, I’m not sure.” “Right. Let me know if there’s anything else I can help with, alright?”

“That was useless. If we had Riz…” Fabian trails off. If they had Riz, they wouldn’t have had to do all this in the first place. “Yeah,” Adaine agrees.

plus an additional bit of fabian's voicemail at the end of the chapter from before the scene got cut :))

"We’ve been doing some investigation. Me and Adaine, that is. You’d be proud of us. Or maybe not, we did get caught almost immediately. And we were also breaking into your apartment, and I don’t know how you would feel about that. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. How do you delete voicemails? Uh. Well, I thought I would tell you that, you know, we tried. Investigating’s hard, the Ball. Honestly, I don’t know how you do it. It’s, uh, a very impressive skill, I’m figuring out. It’s really cool that you’re so good at it."

[innytoes]

Ooooo Willex circus AU? Hyped!!!

For someone with anxiety, Alex knows his job is a bit of a strange pick. Climbing a tiny ladder up to a tiny platform high, high above the ground only to fling himself into the air holding on to just a little bar attached to two pieces of wire doesn't seem like something people who get anxious easily would do.

But when he's in the air, he's flying. He's in complete control of his body, he knows exactly what to do, he knows exactly where the bar will be.

And most of all, he trusts his partner with his life. Willie will always be there to catch him, to grab him, just like they've practiced over and over a hundred, a million times. With every gasp of the crowd, Alex knows Willie will be at the end of it, steady hands and a firm grip, and a beautiful, sparkling smile just for him.

Yeah, Alex gets anxious about a lot of things, but two things in his life have never sent him into a panic. And that's being a trapeze artist, and falling in love with Willie.

[crow-n-tell]

The deep feral desire to animate lil music videos of my favorite fanfictions :(

[girlscience]

there is something to be said for wondering if you actually still enjoy any of your hobbies and then going to an event with other people who also enjoy your hobbies and realizing you do actually like your hobbies and you shouldn't stop engaging with them

[uefb]

Falling in love, again, with more OCs 🤷🏼

Yesterday my wife saw the color-coded post-it note tabs in one of my Fantastic Beast companion books and was like, “Can you make your next hyperfixation or special interest housekeeping?” and at first I almost walloped her, because rude, and then she quickly explained, “I’m just saying, in a perfect world where we could funnel your ridiculous ability to obtain and organize massive amounts of information into exactly what we needed, our house would be immaculate” and I was like “yes ma’am, and unfortunately they’re disorders for a reason”

We both had a good laugh. I then posted a fic I’d been working on, confident I’d be able to switch my brain back to another longtime interest (my research) after getting the current FB plot bunny out of my head…

And yet, less than 24 hours later, I’ve started another one. This is exhausting. Make it stop lmao. But 1969 Newt & his 18-year-old son are extremely humorous to me, so whatever

[stressedimaginativecat]

Villain rando: Are you three like friends or something?

*Lord Dominator and Bill Cipher shrug*

Slade:*deadpan* I'm being held hostage.

___

Dominator: *about Slade* Old man Joe is just the coolest ya know?

Villain rando: Who's Joe?

Dominator: *inhale* JOE M-

___

The Beast:*about Belos* 🎶Something wicked this way comes~🎶

Dominator: Congrats you literally described everyone here

Cozy Glow: Excuse you i'm a delight!

___

*in a library like place Slade sits comfortably in an armchair and reads a book*

Dominator: Heeey Joseph!

Slade:..*sigh* What is it?

Dominator: Beast says that there is new folk about to appear soon in these ports of Void and i with Bill plan on bullying the villain newbie a bit.. A lot actually.. So! Ya wanna come and make em cry?

Slade: Who will be gracing us with their presence?

Dominator: That Belos.. Philip guy.. The one who killed and cloned his brother a lot or something like that *shrugs* A worstie like us

Slade: Joy.

Dominator: Are you coming then?

Slade: I pass.. *resumes reading* Have fun.

Dominator: *looks at the book cover*.. Why are you reading Warrior cats?

___

Emperor Belos: Why is a child there?

Cozy Glow: Mind your own business.