#Skizzlemanweek

[listentothelittlebird]

day 2 of @skizzlemanweek sun/storm - I picked Storm!

word count: 872

-

Sometimes, Skizz thinks he has always been meant for the stage. Mostly because his life often feels like a cartoon.

“Chase that letter! On your left! No, no your other left!”

The slip of white curls its way through the air like a taunting laugh, following the curves of the icy wind. 

Skizz can only focus on so many things. In grabbing for the letter, he hits a tree. In dodging a cliff, he loses sight of his prize.

“What’s even in there, anyway?” Skizz yells over the whistling wind. A storm is brewing, and it only spurs Skizz to fly faster. “Can we just leave it?”

Impulse flares his elytra into a glide just so that he can put his hand to his chin in a mock thoughtful pose. “Hm. No.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Skizz complains, because the twitch of his friend’s lips gives him away. Whatever this is leaves Impulse smiling, but in itself is not important enough to leave him panicking. Hm.

The letter has floated back down now, teetering just above the grassy terrain. Skizz swoops low, both hands outstretched, whooping as he finally snaps it up between his fingers.

Not a moment too soon, as Skizz feels the first drop of sky-cold water against his arm.

“Let’s go home!” Skizz swerves in the air, trying to do a U-turn. It only takes a laugh from Impulse to know he is going entirely the wrong way.

The droplets turn from light drips to pebbles to heavy stones. By the time they bust the door open, both of them are absolutely drenched.

Impulse shuts the door and herds Skizz towards the furnaces. He shucks off his elytra as he goes, the soggy wings falling off his back in a way that Skizz almost envies, his back heavy from ruffled and waterlogged feathers.

“You stay here.” Impulse pulls out a towel from a nearby chest and tosses it over Skizz’s head. By the time Skizz gets the energy to pull it off and start drying himself proper, Impulse is returning with more towels, along with blankets and pillows.

The furnaces are crackling with full fires now, the light popping of glowing embers a welcome change from the booming thunder and blinding lightning. The storm is muffled now that they are inside, flashes of light barely visible through the curtains against the windows.

They move to the couch when they are sufficiently dry, Impulse taking a new towel and delicately going over Skizz’s wings, pausing only to fuss over the blankets tucked around the couch’s edges.

“So,” Skizz starts, once they are settled with warmed carrots and stew. He takes one more bite of his food before he sets it down, and opens the bundle containing the precious package. “Are you going to tell me what was in this envelope?”

It happens again, the suppressed smile, the slight curve at the edge of his lips. Impulse sets down his soup and turns to face Skizz, this time with a slowly growing grin. He pulls out an envelope opener from his pocket, ever prepared.

“How about you open it and find out?”

Skizz raises an eyebrow and scans the envelope for clues. No stamp, which means Impulse received it from someone directly. He just came back from Hermitcraft, so…Tango? Or maybe Grian? He did knock down the guy’s flashlight tower the other day.

“This better not be a prank,” Skizz gripes, to test the waters. Impulse has always been bad at lying, and this time he does not try, just shakes his head immediately.

“Nope, not a prank. Not at all.”

Odd phrasing. It almost sounds important, for all that Impulse was happy to let it be lost to the wind.

Then again, they did spend time to chase it down. Maybe it is important.

“Alright. I’m opening it.”

The paper tears easily. Skizz knew whatever it contained had to be light, but he is still surprised when he only finds a single page inside, neatly folded into thirds.

He knows it is Xisuma’s handwriting the moment he fumbles it open. The admin of Hermitcraft has sent along little gifts and check-in letters often, along with reminders that he can arrange visits to see Impulse whenever he likes. 

Those writings had neat handwriting paired with the casualness of a friend. This has a different tone: formal, but no less warm.

After a unanimous vote, we are pleased to invite you to join us as a member of Hermitcraft from Season Ten onwards…

Skizz has to read it again, and again, and again. He skips the rest of the paragraphs, the details of the next season and the outline of server rules, and finds the very last line.

From the bottom of our hearts, we’d love to have you join us, Skizz. Hope to see you soon!

“This is for real?” Skizz finally looks back up, to where his friend of decades sits across from him. Just one glance of bright eyes and a grin wide enough to burst is enough to convince him. 

“It’s for real. Of course it’s for real!”

Yes, Skizz thinks he was always meant for the stage. Now the curtains have pulled back, and his new play has begun.

[rutellingmeashrimpfriedthisrice]

Also a bit late for day two but we preserve. Written for @skizzlemanweek !!!! (Was this just an excuse to write wingfic/hornfic? Possibly <3 yes I know horns and antlers are different don't come for me deerblr)

Day Two: Hybrid/AU

Skizz sighed as he reached around his back, wings ruffling uncomfortably as he tried to scratch between them. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, perking up only moments later at the sound of Impulse entering the house.

"Dipple Dop!" He said, watching Impulse flinch before rubbing his neck with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, forgot you spook easier about this time." He apologized.

Impulse breathed deeply before smiling back softly. "It's okay." He reassured. "What's up, buddy?" He wondered, setting down his keys before walking closer, tail swaying idly.

"My stupid wings are itchy again." Skizz complained, and Impulse chuckled as he glanced them over with a raised brow and amused smile. "Didn't I preen them for you last week?"

"Yeah, but I use 'em a lot! They get messy." He defended with pink cheeks.

Impulse giggled and sat down on the other side of the couch, already turning to face Skizz's back. "I'm just kidding, you know I don't mind helping you out." He said, already getting to work brushing his hands gently against the other man's back.

Skizz did know, very much so in fact. Impulse always insisted on complimenting his wings while helping Skizz out, something that made Skizz impossibly happy and embarrassed every time.

Impulse wordlessly started, fingers gently brushing against Skizz's wings and occasionally plucking out stray or unruly feathers to set on the coffee table closeby. Skizz sighed in relief as the itchy sensation slowly left him, relaxing into Impulse's touch as the other man chuckled.

"Don't move too much, silly." He reminded, and Skizz smiled even though Impulse wouldn't see. He listened, though, doing his best to stay still despite how nice it felt to have his wings fussed over and cleaned like that.

Skizz sighed once Impulse had finished, stretching his wings a few times to check that they didn't feel odd anymore before tucking them against his back to slump back against the other man's chest. "Thank you." He groaned in relief.

Impulse just chuckled and ruffled his hair. "No problem."

Skizz glanced up at him, looking at Impulse upside down as his gaze drifted towards the small stubs of slowly reforming antlers. "How are those, by the way?" He wondered.

Impulse shrugged and rubbed his neck. He wasn't the type to ask for help but Skizz knew he didn't always take the best care of his horns during the regrowth period like demons were meant to do.

Oh well, if Skizz could be a bad angel by neglecting his wings, it was fine for Impulse to neglect his antlers a bit, too. Right?

"Let me at least look at them?" He suggested, and Impulse tensed before slowly reaching up to the bandages around his head while Skizz sat up to face him.

Skizz held onto Impulse's face, bringing it closer as he examined the flat stubs that would soon grow into his usual curved, singular point antlers.

"They look okay. Are you being careful with them?" Skizz wondered, raising a brow when Impulse stayed silent.

Impulse sighed. "I may have gotten into a scuffle with Tango today. We were just messing around!" He admitted.

Skizz pinched his cheek. "One of these days your horns are gonna fall off before they can even regrow properly and you'll have to restart the process all over again." He warned, and Impulse whined before pulling himself out of Skizz's reach.

"I know." He sighed, standing as he gathered up the feathers to toss them away. He paused on his way out the room and glanced back at the other man on the couch. "Thanks, Skizz." He said quietly.

Skizz grinned. "No problem, Dop." He said back with a nod, lying down with a sigh once Impulse left the room with his wings finally comfortable.

[astronomodome]

almost forgot about @skizzlemanweek so here's a mini skizz. take him with you on your journey

[imtoohotmilk]

a little late but here’s my contribution for @skizzlemanweek day 2 Sun / Storm

[boiled-ginger-ale]

skizz week 2, day 2

prompt: sun/storm

i made skizz big this time. hes been designated as the team umbrella; downside is he gets wet, which he's a bit miffed about. he totally didn't get struck by lightning earlier lol//

obligatory @skizzlemanweek tag

[mcytblrsource]

MONTHLY MCYTBLR RECAP: AUGUST 2024

CHECK PERIODICALLY FOR UPDATES!

REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED!

EVENTS:

Jun 1-Aug 31: Niki Nihachu Summer hosted by @niki-nihachu-summer

Aug 5-11: Felpac week hosted by @felpacweek

Aug 16: Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Crack Month hosted by @sixteenth-day-event

Aug 11-17: Skizzleman Week hosted by @skizzlemanweek

Aug 12-18: Hypnotizd Ship Week hosted by @hermitrarepairevent

ZINES & MAPS:

Aug 5: Chronicles: A QSMP Egg Zine preorders open until Sep 8 @qsmpzine

Aug 10: MCYT Sapphic Zine releases @mcytsapphiczine

Aug 23: Empiropedia releases @empiropediazine

Aug 25: Hotguy Comics Zine releases @hotguycomiczine

Aug 31: Hermitzine 9: H is for Hermitcraft releases @hermitzine

UPCOMING EVENTS FOR SEPTEMBER:

Jun 1-Sep 30: MCYT Omegaverse Month (18+) hosted by @mcyt-month-of-omegaverse

Aug 4-Sep 21: QSMP Month(s) hosted by @qsmp-month

Sep 1-30: Your Cubito, Your Culture hosted by @yourcubitoyourculture

Sep 16: Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Places Month hosted by @sixteenth-day-event

Sep 22-Oct 5: MCYT Non-POV hosted by @mcyt-nonpovs

—-—

Oct 1-30: [There are no real deadlines] QSMP Halloween Fanworks Event hosted by @atthebell

Oct 20-26: Spiderbit/Guapduo Fluff or Fright hosted by @atthebell

Oct 21-27: Scarian Autumn Smooch Fest hosted by @scarian-smooch-fest

Oct 25-31: HideDuo Trick or Treat Week hosted by @iridescentpull

Oct 25-31: fWhimmy Week hosted by @fwhimmy-week

Dec 1-7: QPR Kersuma Week hosted by @qpr-kersuma-week

CLOSED APPLICATIONS/SIGN UPS:

MCYT WIP Purge: @multidimensionbb closes Sep 3

MCYT Trick-or-Treat: @mcyt-trick-or-treat closes Sep 8

Technoblade Cookbook - MODERATORS: @technobladecookbook closes Sep 11

HermitPost Zine: @hermitpostzine closes Sep 12

OPEN APPLICATIONS/SIGN UPS:

MCYT Halloween Exchange: @mcyt-halloween closes Sep 23

MCYT Jukebox Bonanza Event: @mcyt-jukebox-bonanza closes Sep 30

C!Dream Zine: @cdreamzine closes Sep 30

MCYT Couture Zine: @mcyt-couture-zine closes Sep 30

Technoblade Cookbook - RECIPE SUBMISSION: @technobladecookbook closes Oct 14

Lay all you love on me - Desert Duo MAP: @oinkable closes when all parts claimed

MCYT RPF Kink Meme - @mcytrpfkinkmeme open until collection reaches 100 works

Colourful Crafters Colouring Book: @colourfulcrafterscolouringbook closes undetermined

—-—

Technoblade Cookbook - ARTISTS AND WRITERS: @technobladecookbook Oct 20-31

[enkays-den]

Skizz Week 2, Day 4: Warm/Cool

@skizzlemanweek

1.3k, no warnings, Skizz, Grian, Gem, Scar, a pinch of Impy, Phasmophobia AU

Tonight was a rare session of ghost hunting without Impulse. Someone had gotten his construction appointment written down wrong and he’d ended up double-booked, and he’d rather miss out on a ghost sesh than wait another three weeks for a chance to meet with his contractor. Luckily, when Skizz has messaged the GIGGS group text, the other three were all available to help, making it a full party instead of solo Skizz night.

Their younger friends had been very excited in chat, sending ‘yay we get to hang with tall dad today!’ (Scar), ‘I can’t believe Impulse has abandoned his best friend’ (Grian), and ‘since it’s fun dad today, we get to stay up past midnight, right?’ (Gem).

Impulse didn’t reply to those messages, but he did send Skizz a private text.

😔 why?

They just miss you, buddy <3

It looks like the exact opposite…

Don’t worry, they’ll be begging for you to come back once I start telling my jokes.

haha, ttyl bud 😊

Skizz returned to the van, tossing a burnt smudge stick into their little trash can. Grian hated cleaning up the ash off the floor in the morning. “I am seriously considering just gagging this one as a mimic, I’m getting nothing from the looping.”

Gem was flicking between the camera feeds, but started to turn around to face Skizz. “Yeah, we’re getting no other activity from this thi– oh, you actually look like death.” 

“Gee, I feel so loved,” Skizz said sardonically.

Gem pulled out her radio. “Boys, we’re gagging mimic and you’re getting your butts here, Skizz is gonna die if he goes through another hunt.”

“Thank goodness,” Grian said, voice crackling through the hand set. “I told you guys it’s taking the mick out on us.”

“This ghost is no fun,” Scar agreed, rolling up the ramp. Does that mean that this is the last hunt of the night?”

“For Skizz? Yes.” Gem responded, leaving the van to help Grian collect their equipment from all around the hospital. 

Skizz took a folding chair from a rack on the wall and sat with Scar, slumping a little. You ever get a good look at the ghost, Scarface?”

“No, just one DOTS before it changed rooms,” Scar sighed, looking at their cheat sheet rubric of ghost types. “There’s a part of me that wants to say it’s a shade with how few hunts we’ve seen. We’ve been here for like, an hour and a half!”

The older man rubbed his face. He really did feel like crap. “Something like that. I feel like the pace during hunts was always changing, so that either means that I’m going crazy, or it’s twins or mimic.”

“Scar?” Grian’s voice came in through the radio. “Can you help me get some of this stuff to the van?”

“You don’t need to go, Scar. Let me do it.” Skizz leaned forward to stand up, but Gem chose that moment to speak into her radio.

“And no helping, Skizz. You just sit there.” 

Skizz picked up his radio. “It’s just one trip, Gemmer!”

Gem’s response was instant. “You. Stay.”

Scar giggled as he rolled out the truck.

“When did you get so bossy?”

The static of the radio rang out again. “I learned it from Other Dad.”

Sighing, Skizz grabbed a pair of drumsticks from his bag and starting running through one of his old routines on a clipboard he placed on his lap. 

After a few minutes, Grian’s distinctive accent sounded from outside, muffled by distance. “Guys, it’s over, he’s drumming. Might as well just drop him home.”

“What? You stop that talk!” Skizz threw his sticks in the corner, intentionally making the most chaotic clattering he could.

“And now he’s throwing things,” Gem complained. “He’s like a baby in his highchair.”

The three other hunters entered the van, laden with cameras, mics, and other devices. Grian started putting things back in their holders or charging batteries, and Gem walked over to Skizz.

“You’re still really pale,” she noted. Putting the back of her hand to his forehead, she frowned. “Skizz, you’re literally freezing!”

“Am I?”

Grian touched his head as well. “Yup. Cold as my hometown.”

Gem sighed. “I thought you’re supposed to be the one looking after us.”

Scar went over to his things and pulled out a heat pad he usually used for his back and put it into the tiny microwave they had in the truck. 

“You need to get this jacket off and get a jumper on or something.” Grian said, tugging the cheap faux-bomber jacket off the older man’s shoulders.

“There’s a fleece I use in that compartment under the backseat,” Scar said, testing the temperature of the pad with his hands.”

Grian nodded and left the truck to fetch it.

Gem took the jacket and felt it in her hands, grimacing. “Skizz, if you were in Canada with this thing, you’d die.”

“It’s just the first thing I grabbed,” he protested.

Their radios buzzed. 

“Alright, lads,” Grian said. “I’m turning on the truck to warm up the front, let’s get Skizz and Scar in the back seat. The cargo box of the truck shook a little as Grian turned on the ignition. When did he take Skizz’s keys? He really was tired.

“Come on,” Gem prompted, pulling Skizz up and strapping the folding chair back to the wall. 

Grian reappeared, taking the heating pad from Scar and wrapping it up in the fleece he’d fetched. Once Gem and Skizz were out of the box, Grian slid the ramp away and shut the door. 

With Skizz lifting under his arms and Grian holding his legs, Scar was lifted into the back of the cabin, his chair folded up and placed behind him. Skizz then piled in, followed by Gem. 

Grian got in the driver’s seat and cranked the heat. He turned around in his seat to face the three in the back. “Doesn’t really seem like we’re gonna do another hunt, fellas.”

“No, let’s get Skizz home,” Gem agreed. She was trying to finagle the fleece blanket around Skizz and the seatbelt. Scar was strapping the heat pad to the back of Skizz’s shoulders.

Skizz was feeling instantly better. He tucked his hands underneath his legs to warm them up. “You okay driving this thing, G? I know Dipple Dop has only given you a few lessons.”

“I’ll find a way to your house that doesn’t take the highway,” Grian said absently, scrolling on his phone.

“Grian, do you have your British tea? Could you spare some for Skizzy?”

Grian passed back a thermos, which Skizz sipped from gratefully.

“I feel so pampered,” he joked. 

“We’re saving your life!” Scar said dramatically. “We can’t let Skizzy freeze out on the field!”

“iDad would be so disappointed,” Grian said, pulling onto the road. 

“Oh, he’s going to be disappointed regardless, I’m telling him that Skizz almost froze to death,” Gem said, trying to act cool but Skizz could hear the smile in her tone.

Skizz reached out with both arms and brought Gem and Scar closer to him. “Well at least I have you guys to be there for me. Love you!”

“Love you too, Papa Skizz!” Scar said happily, hugging him awkwardly.

“Me too,” Gem said, resting her head on his shoulder.

“What about me?” Grian complained. 

Skizz reached forward and clapped Grian on the shoulder with a large hand. “Course I love you, G!”

“Yeah,” Grian said enthusiastically. “That was a real Dad pat on the back!” He turned on the music player and groaned when the sounds of rock music filled the truck cabin. “Ugh, and a real Dad playlist.”

In the end, Gem didn’t tell Impulse what happened when they got to their house. She called him and told him on the way back.

I’m changing your contact name to ‘Blizzleman’ ;)

I’m more insulted you’re not even coming up with a good play on words >:[

[flebdoodle]

Happy Skizz Week!!

Day 1/2 - Silent/Shout and Hybrid/AU for @skizzlemanweek ('Twas gone yesterday, unfortunately) I love Big Salmon and Skizz being a mafia member was not on my 2024 bingo card and yet here we are

An extra for your enjoyment

[honeylashofficial]

Go! What are you doing, go!! Draw Skizz Art! Write Skizz fanfiction! Show your appreciation for this gent. You know the spiel; he’s hilarious, he’s sweet, and he only wants the best for each and every one of us.

Let’s return him the favor. Let’s positively flood the hermit fanzone with doodles and rambles and absolute masterpieces this week. Let’s treat him like the legend he already is, and give credit where credit is massively overdue.

And don’t forget to tag @skizzlemanweek when posting your creations!! :D

[eluminium]

SKIZZLEMAN WEEK LETS GOO!!!! May not have actually written and finished something for like two years BUT SKIZZLEMAN WEEK IS MORE POWERFUL THAN PROCRASTINATION!!!!

Thank you @skizzlemanweek for organizing and creating these prompts!

Prompt 1: Silent/Shout

-

It had been a weirdly silent few weeks on Magic Mountain.

Well, kind of. Of course, with seven hermits nearby and many more in horse riding distance, real silence is quite a rare phenomenon. But for the residents around Magic Mountain, an uncomfortable stillness louder than expected had settled into their hearts lately. As she cleans out the bones of her latest catch, Gem remembers mentioning it to Impulse recently.

"I didn't realize how much the man talks until he was gone. And now I'm like: Oh, this is what it's like for there to be silence, actually!"

The man in question? None other than Skizzleman, of course! Who isn't dead, just on some off-server business of some kind. At least that's what he told Gem and the others before leaving.

She rolls her eyes fondly at how Scar started talking about some conspiracy theory of his where Skizz is some heaven-sent spy barely a tick after Skizz took his leave. A rant that resulted in poor Mumbo explaining to a confused Joel that Scar's comic-book hero phase last season had some lasting side effects.

She unceremoniously drops the fish bones into the river outside her new anglerfish-shaped fish shop. They hit the water with a small splash before sinking into the murkiness below. Gotta give back to the river! Otherwise, it'll get mad. That's basic fisherwoman knowledge.

When she turns to head back inside so she can put the fish on the cutting boards away, her eyes catch the faint silhouette of Skizz's pyramid in the distance. The sight of it makes the silence around her somehow more prevalent. A sigh leaves her. She misses him. She never thought that the silence he leaves behind would suck this much.

But as she heads back inside, Gem reminds herself that she won't need to miss him for long. He said he'd only be gone for a few weeks, so he's due to be back pretty soon. Then she can go back to poking him for being old or something. In fact, she can almost hear him shout an overdramatic "HEYYY!" already as she points out that-

Wait.

She quickly drops the floppy boneless salmon in the chilled chest and rushes out the door. She may have a good imagination, but it's not THAT good! She looks around rapidly until her eyes catch something. Two figures in the distance. She squints, but it doesn't really help, so she pulls out a spyglass instead.

She can't help but gasp in surprised happiness when she spots familiar feathery wings and a bright spinning halo. It's Skizz! He's back!

Of course, Impulse stands next to him, his demonic tail flapping wildly in excitement. They seem to already be caught up in a conversation. Typical them, can't leave each other alone for five seconds. Seems like the perfect time for her to come and deliver some made-with-love Gem Punches!

But just as she's about to put the spyglass down and run over, she spots a shocking change in Impulse's facial expression. The happy smile decorating his face melts in a tick into something unreadable. (Fear? Annoyance? Teasing? A mix of that and more?) Confused, Gem stops and pans the spyglass over to Skizz's face. Is he…Is he making kissy faces at Impulse-?

Before she can even process what's going on, Impulse looks in her general direction and RUNS. Full-on sprints at top speed in a manner Gem would be impressed he could do if she wasn't so caught off guard. The spyglass quickly disappears into her inventory as she watches him approach with Skizz hot on his heels.

"GEM!!! HELP!!!" Impulse shouts in a clearly overdramatic tone.

"You can't run forever Dipple Dop!!!" Skizz cackles manically.

"What are you idiots doing?!" She tries to put on a tone of playful annoyance, but her amusement leaks through like water through a hole in a boat.

"He's gonna kiss me on the cheek, Gem!!! You gotta help me!!!" Impulse squeals as he runs around in circles on the shore, skillfully dodging Skizz's attempts to grab him.

Gem can't help it. She bursts out laughing so hard it almost hurts her throat. These dudes, she swears. Obviously, if Impulse was actually uncomfortable with the situation he'd tell Skizz, and they wouldn't have a silly goose chase on her front lawn, so she feels rather justified in cackling at his supposed misfortune. And she only laughs harder when Impulse lets out various desperate noises of desperation, which are comical enough that Skizz has to stop his chase because he's laughing too hard. His hands land on his knees as he completely loses it together with Gem. Impulse giggles and stops in his tracks instead of running further, all but confirming that they're just messing around.

"Wow, Gem! I beg for your help, and you laugh at me? I thought we were friends!" He says in an overly hurt tone while crossing his arms and sniffling dramatically.

Gem opens her mouth to respond, but before a single syllable leaves her, Skizz pounces on Impulse and finally scores his victory by snagging a smooch on the man's cheek. He even manages to catch Impulse in a hug. Gem lets out something between a cheer and an "awwwwwww!" as Impulse wiggles in his best friend's grasp.

"I missed you, Dipple Dop!" Skizz says with happy sincerity as he squeezes said Dipple Dop.

"Missed ya too buddy" Impulse responds, sounding like he's getting all air wrung out of him. He pats Skizz on the back. Skizz, in turn, lets him go and turns his eyes to Gem, still standing in the mouth of her anglerfish. He wastes no time jumping into the river, splashing water everywhere, and then swimming over to her.

"And I missed you too, Gemstone!" He cheers as she helps him up onto the solid (?) ground.

Gem can't help but smile as she tackles him for a hug of her own. As his sturdy and comfy arms wrap around her she feels, more than hears, how the hush around Magic Mountain fades away as one of its seven lively mountaineers has come home once again.

[thoughtsofananon]

@skizzlemanweek

Friend! Or should I say Buddy?

[listentothelittlebird]

@skizzlemanweek day three: fight/fun! I picked Fun :)

word count: 971

-

Skizz whistles to himself as he arcs through the wind, descending down towards PixelPulse Valley. 

“Dipple Dot!” Skizz yells out, expecting him to jump and laugh as his storage room clunks open. Instead, Skizz is met with an empty room.

“Dot?” Skizz paces into the room, doing a full circle as if he would find Impulse wedged between one of the corners. All he is met with is still rows of neatly categorised chests and bubbling lava above his head. 

Where is his buddy? Skizz checks his comm and, yes, it shows ImpulseSV as awake and moving. He flicks his comm to their chat page, which still shows Skizz’s unanswered texts.

It takes Skizz a moment to find the entrance to Dot’s current project, the course impressive and wonderfully decorated. If not for the fact that Skizz was rushing through it to find his friend, Skizz would have taken ages to walk through and admire every nook and crevice.

Skizz has to take a dip in the water, much to his disgruntlement. When he emerges and shakes off his wings, a familiar blur of yellow is there to meet him.

“Skizz!” True to his predictions, Impulse startles, hopping a good block into the air before ambling towards him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, obviously!” Skizz shakes his wings again, making sure to flick the water in his friend’s direction. “Check your comm!”

“Oh!” Impulse startles, patting down his jacket, then his pants. “Ah, I think I took it off because I was working with so much water. I’m still not used to these new comms being waterproof, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that.” Skizz checks his own comm just in case, marveling when the device beeps to life with no issue. “Good for me, since I always forget about it.”

As Impulse rummages through his cluster of shulker boxes, Skizz takes a moment to take him in. His jacket and enchantments has made sure he is mostly dry, but his hair is still in disarray. His purple-tinted glasses are askew, and an unfinished redstone repeater is tucked haphazardly into his pocket, half of it dangling beside his leg. 

Impulse makes a noise of celebration as he holds up his comm. He wobbles as he shuts the lid, too preoccupied with scanning his message previews, and that makes the decision for Skizz.

“Okay!” Skizz claps, drawing his friend’s attention. “Let’s go.”

“Go?” Even as Impulse sighs, he still pockets his comm and wanders towards him, away from his boxes and boxes of multicoloured building materials. “Go where?”

Skizz grins, spreading his wings. “Away! Let’s get out of here!”

He takes flight, and almost instantly smashes into a dirt wall. 

Impulse laughs at him, the sound louder than his first rocket. 

“Come on, the exit’s here.”

Impulse leads them out into the open air, and from there Skizz takes over, swerving them away from the bustling cyberpunk city and towards their neighbours.

Impulse laughs when Tango’s base comes into view, following Skizz’s thoughts without a word.

After all, Dipple Dot is not the only person who needs a little fun every once and a while.

-

On hindsight, maybe walking into a newly-discovered trial chamber with no armour was a bad idea.

“Watch out for the kids!” Skizz hollers, swiping his sword in front of him as the little zombies do the monster equivalent of nipping at his ankles. “Man, I hate these guys!”

“I’m starting to think this was a bad idea,” Impulse despairs, safely perched on the locked ominous vault. A breeze had blasted him up there a few minutes ago, and there he has happily stayed, shooting arrows down below.

So Skizz shoots an arrow at him. “Come down and fight, you freeloader!”

“I’m helping!” Is the indignant reply. To his credit, the next shot actually lands, killing one of the husks. “See?”

Tango makes a string of blaze noises, a mixture of gurgling akin to lava and hissing akin to fire. “My shield’s gone!”

Skizz takes a swing at a Bogged, mouth twisting as the sword bounces off the golden armour with no issue.

Yeah, they need armour.

Skizz flares his wings and takes off, landing on a higher platform with enough force that the copper below his feet shudders. He checks that the platform is clear, away from mobs, before he cups his hands to his mouth and yells.

“Retreat, retreat!”

From there, they scramble back towards their bed and chests, laughing even while dodging the whirring flurry of wind charges. The breeze tries its best, but soon the chaos of an unfinished chamber is left behind them.

Their safe spot gives them a moment to rest. Skizz sighs as he slides down the copper wall, the metal cool against his back. The lamps cast their little bunker in a warm glow, shadows stretching along the beds and pulling their forms across the corners of the room. 

Maybe these lamps were the equivalent of the sun, for the people who used to live in these halls. With how hectic the fighting has been, Skizz almost forgets that this is all done by people long gone. 

The hours of mining copper, of waxing, of crafting trapdoors and lamps and everything in between. Whoever lived here before spent lifetimes to make these walls.

He falls asleep, just for a little while. When he blinks back awake, Impulse is waving a golden carrot in his face, a bowl of soup in his other hand.

“This is fun,” Tango concludes, as they finish gobbling their food and gear up to jump right back in like the lunatics they are. “Crazy, and a little scary, but fun!”

“Glad you’re enjoying it, Top!” Skizz gestures towards their safe zone exit with a sweep of his arm. “Ready for round two?”

[rutellingmeashrimpfriedthisrice]

A bit late to starting this off but this was written for @skizzlemanweek !!!

Day One: Silent/Shout (Skango flavored)

Skizz wasn't subtle with his love. He'd gladly shout it from the rooftops and eagerly ramble about his boyfriend whenever the opportunity arose. In his mind, nothing could be more worth talking about than Tango, and the fact that of everyone in the world, Tango had chosen him.

Tango's love was quiet. All affection-filled looks and wordless actions to help Skizz out with whatever he may need. He'd gladly spend hours perfecting the redstone for a creation Skizz had big ideas for, or gather enough food to keep them both fed, all without needing to be asked first. He loved Skizz, and he knew that no matter what, Skizz loved him too.

Others may have seemed confused by the nature of their relationship, so warm and full of love despite their playful innuendos or particularly friendly comments. But they knew what they were, knew who they were. And that was enough for them.

"What do you think?" Tango asked, leaning in close to show off the sketch he'd made of the machine Skizz had described during one of their talks.

Skizz eyed the drawing in awe, delightfully surprised by the amount of effort and detail that Tango had put into it to make something tangible and possible from a throw-away idea Skizz had mentioned for a farm. He glanced up and wordlessly kissed Tango's cheek while the other man was still glancing down at the paper.

Tango's eyes widened as he stammered loudly, cheeks turning red as he looked away, flustered grin spreading across his face.

Skizz laughed, smiling so wide his cheeks ached as he slung an arm around his boyfriend's shoulders to pull him into a side hug. "It's perfect, Top." He said, resting his head against Tango’s until the other man relaxed against him in turn.

Skizz smiled and closed his eyes, savoring the moment before eventually opening his eyes again as he recounted his vision for the farm Tango had drawn up while Tango listened silently, occasionally nodding along or furrowing his brows in that handsome way Skizz recognized as him working out the logistics of the redstone involved.

He really loved that look on his face.

Skizz continued to talk for a bit before quieting down to watch Tango add onto his sketch, a lovesick grin on his face all the while.

(Sorry it's so short hope this is good!!)

[daisy-bugs]

The Typical Case

Fandom: Hermitcraft, technically Phasmophobia

Pairing(s): platonic Team GIGGS

Summary: A little peek at what a usual work interaction is like for one Skizzle and Co.

Word Count: 372

Extra Details: This eensy guy is my first fic for @skizzlemanweek! Enjoy! :D

Link to AO3!

[a-plethora-of-peters]

Skizz Week 2, Day 1: Calm/Chaos!

I never posted anything for Skizz Week 1 (never even knew it existed then tbh), but when I saw @skizzlemanweek's post with the prompts, I knew I had to write a little something to share the joy this man generates for me with y'all!

So I've decided to use this week to make little So Much For Stardust drabbles that might be canon, might be AU, who knows! (Me, I know but details lol)

For those unaware or new to me, So Much For Stardust is a fic that I am writing where Skizz is a human that has been abducted from Earth and essentially tortured for a number of years. After being rescued from his abductors, he was placed into the care of the local outpost of the Sapience Outreach Specialists (SOS): Doctor Zedaph Pleighs (a sheep-like Fulgar Ovium), Mr. ImpulseSV (a demonic looking Inferni), and Doctor Tango of Clan Tek (a bouncy, fiery Ignis Petra). Their task is now to assess Skizz's sapience level and, if he proves to be on a level equal to the ZIT boys, start teaching him Galactic and all about various alien customs/cultures.

So let's get this Skizzleman Week 2 started with a little drabble about Stardust Skizz and the Calm that comes with stargazing...

People tend to be surprised when Skizz says that he likes to go stargazing.

They take in his punk rocker aesthetic, his history doing drumline for school that grew to using a full drum kit, his busy noisy family, and they're confused.

Why would he like stargazing? Isn't it too quiet and boring to him? Doesn't he think that the vastness of space is terrifying?

And they do have valid points.

But Skizz has always been a watchful sort of person.

Kinda had to be when his biological contributers were dicks that invited awful people over to their house all the time. Kinda had to be when he had been tossed into foster care and developed a reputation for being a problem kid for not standing down when people needed help. Kinda had to be when he was helping his dads figure out how to tell when his younger siblings needed help.

So he turned those watching skills to the stars.

It was... humbling.

To be in the middle of the desert at night with a vast, uncountable number of stars overhead, reminding him that he was small and maybe he didn't mean much in the long run but he was here right here right now being awed by the Milky Way swirling overhead.

The only sounds around him are the distant sounds of animals roaming the desert, the wind whistling over the sands and rattling the few plants, and the slow steady beating of his heart.

He truly feels at peace in those moments of calm that he rarely could find any other way.

It's honestly the cruelest thing that the aliens that had abducted him, the Defectors as Tango had said they called the assholes, could ever have done to him.

To forever destroy the calm and peace that the stars gave him...

[boiled-ginger-ale]

skizz week 2, day 1

prompt: calm/chaos

me continuing my tiny skizz propaganda and also my hatred of coloring my sketches, because of course i am. i looooove him and impulse they are perfect <3<3<3

@skizzlemanweek i know you said to tag you but i am so sorry to curse your eyes with this blog