#anyway have a goog day

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 3, Episode 13- Dear Emily and Richard-Part 2

Lorelai receives a call at the inn from some old fogey who wants them to host his retirement party, but he can't settle on a theme for the party. Michel, much like Jess moments earlier, is triggered by a minor work inconvenience and unveils a detailed plot to first hobble his knees then bury the man alive in what is turning out to be a dark, dark timeline. And we haven't even gotten to Crusty yet. It's a pre Halloween horror fest!

Lane is just hanging out at the inn for some unknown reason, helping Lorelai make decorations? And listening to Michel's gruesome murder plans and not saying a word. Meanwhile Lorelai has sent Rory on a mission to fetch Dean. Oh, here they are now!

Get it? It's a Big Red Flag! Teehee! Rory shows up with an invitation to Creepy Sherry's Scheduled C Section Extravaganza.

February 7th! Hey, that's my birthday! Welcome to this cruel cruel world, Gigi, my fellow Aquarius. Your mother is Absent Sherry and your father is Absent Crusty and Rory is your Completely Uninterested Absent Sister. Oh boy are you fucked! Good luck!

*SIGH* *opens Googs* Laura Mercier is apparently a brand of makeup. It still exists today, and now that I've made the connection, it does sound vaguely familiar. Demerol is a painkiller.

Yah, that's the spirit, Rory. Much enthusiasm. Gigi would be 21 this year. Maybe Gigi also pulled a Jess, booked a good therapist in her late teens, threw off the shackles of her childhood trauma, and made millions with some kind of art at a young age so she could shrug "She's sort of my sister" about Rory while rolling around on a waterbed covered with 8 million dollars. Jess:"Rory is sort of my cousin."

Crossing off "Delicious Looking Fake Food" and "Millennial Pop Culture Reference" From my Bingo Card. Actually, we have a rapid fire 4x MCPR (Millennial Pop Culture Reference) blitz in under a minute. As always, there is likely some underlying context to these jokes that are going over my head so feel free to correct me. Let's go girls. Beanie babies-#1.

Oh stop, Lorelai. We know Rory doesn't do anything to earn money.

MCPR #2. Adrian Zmed is (was?) an actor and she is implying that he'll "do ridiculous things for money, including his whole career" which I don't get because he had just won a crapton of Oscars that year for The Pianist. Did she mean "Milo Ventimiglia"?

MCPR #3. I'm counting "another reference to a time when Amazon was only selling books" as a MPCR (Millennial Pop Culture Reference). Turns out the boxes were filled with a bunch of travel books from Emily.

MPCR #4. Paris and Nicky Hilton. The Simple Life had just come out that year. So is the joke is that like Emily & RIchard, Paris and Nicky Hilton are also Rich People Who Go To Europe? That's about where the similarities end as far as I'm concerned. Meh. I'm saying that AmyShermanPalladino could have come up with a better pair of Rich Snoots to compare E&R to. Boo! Write better jokes! Anyway, as L&R are perusing the travel books from the 80's, Lorelai starts to reminisce about her childhood while I go take a nap.

SUCH bad casting. Bleh.

Heh heh.

The big problem with Teen Crusty's actor is that besides the physical resemblance to David Sutcliffe being phoned in long distance, this geek is way too sincere and not nearly slimy enough to make me believe he's a Young Crusty/Sutcliffe. He's not some devil may care walking red flag wrecking Porsches on purpose and impregnating dopey girls on freezing cold balconies. Boo! Bad casting! BOO! He looks and sounds like he's late for a meeting to preside over the algebra club. As for the actress playing Lorelai, B for effort. She's trying. It's just that no one is really going to pull it off. You're not going to get some random young bubbly brunette actress to fill Lauren Graham's shoes and call it a day. Big shoes to fill, in my opinion. Young Crusty is shown to be the one who has to convince Lorelai to break off the shackles of rich people prison, ditch college, give a big middle finger to their parents, and run away to Europe. The only time he's shown some kind of initiative or vision for his life is when he was 16. Perhaps Lorelai is having some kind of false memory here.

They said the name of the episode in the episode, time to cross off another space on the ol Bingo Board. Cutting back to Reality, reading Rich People travel guides has made Lorelai dreamy about traveling like a rich person now, and she no longer wishes to explore Europe living like a squirrel, so hoity toity hotels it is. But she has no money. Womp womp. Cut to Chilton where Madelyn and Louise are needling Rory about Paris' boyfriend Jamie. Then another meeting of the ol Franklin. You know what that means. Time to skip skip skip to my loo!

I'll just assume "Paris and Rory sexual tension" occurs and knock that one off my bingo board too. During said sexually tense school newspaper meeting, Rory gets a call on her ancient cellphone from Creepy Sherry's work colleague to inform her that Sherry went into a labor a week ahead of her planned c section. This ride or die friend repeatedly calls Sherry's slightly early natural labor "a screw up". Creepy Sherry's psychopath colleague wants Rory to leave school, find transportation and accompany her father's girlfriend that she barely knows during her childbirth at a hospital miles away from her home.

Come on Rory. Say no to somebody's completely ridiculous, unrealistic, borderline psychopathic demands. I believe in you. You can do this...

As as personal aside, Rory accompanying Creepy Sherry during labor was one of those things I became convinced was a false memory in the long time periods between rewatches. I was certain I had dreamed it and it never really happened. This happened with a few scenes tbh. When that happens, I feel a slight sense of self-vindication. See, me? You were right me!

[weirdcat1213]

Almost 3am trigun brianrot time! This is long so be prepared

Tldr: it's about my idea of trigun 98 being the body, stampede the mind and trimax the soul

Ok so I was thinking about how TF I'm gonna handle trimax for @vashsscoreboardofpain (follow that is gonna be funny) and then I remembered an idea for a master post I wanted to do. I still want to make it but sadly I'm not at a stable position rn to do so. Maybe one day. But I still wanted to put that idea cuz it's slowly taking more form

Now, when I mean X is Y I mean it in a "this version of trigun has everything yes, but highlights Y the most and I think that's neat." Also it applies for all the characters but tonight I'm gonna focus on vash cuz im a vash enjoyer first and a person second. Yes my favorite character is the main one sue me.

Anyway, let's go

Trigun 98 is the body and vash encapsulates this idea in an interesting way. Plant powers aren't really a thing in this version so he is more like a super human with a fucked up arm. This makes him the closes to humans he's ever gonna be. But even if he doesn't have powers on this one, it was his and knives' bodies the cause that one guy's fear (its 3am I don't remember). He's afraid of how fast they grow and how much they learn. 98 also highlights vash's body being like everyone else's. He gets hurt multiple times, he needs nurses and kind people to look after him. Not only during the eriks episode but also on the episode after he kills legato. He also shows vulnerability by getting so drunk he needs to really focus to aim. He needs food and water. 98 Vash is really the closest one to humanity than the other 2, but only because of his physical attributes. Only because of his body, which bring him trouble most of the time. His vulnerable body is the cause of his misery, but it also allowed him to get close to people

Stampede is the mind cuz yeah, they had a specific mind palace episode (which I loved I ate that shit right up) but also because it does give us an easier access to everyone's mental state. We get to see this vash speedrun so many psychological problems in 12 episodes and is not gonna slow down. We literally get to see the guilt and terrors that plague his mind and how his mental fortitude exists thanks to other people. Also if you notice it, people just diagnose him left and right on stampede. Roberto picks up the ED signs, most characters tell him he has a death wish, nai straight up tells him he's doing good things out of guilt and vash allows himself to think about his contradictions outloud in episode 12 and why does he do the things he does (something that would be a therapy exercise I wanna say). Stampede is the mind cuz everyone is getting retrospective

And finally, trimax is the soul because it has more time to dwell on the characters emotions than any other version will ever give us. Instead of straight up diagnosis, trimax will give us panels to show us how vash feels about a situation. Instead of showing vash hurt from the horrors done to his body, trimax will focus on his pain. On his eyes that refuse to look at his own terrifying body that we can see, but only he can feel. What I mean is trimax is designed to drown us with emotion. The other versions are emotional af too, but trimax has that raw emotion up its sleeve. Trimax does nor dwell on the multiple scars vash has or his many Many mental problems. It shows us how fucked up vash's thoughts are about his body and his sins and we get to say "ohhhh...oh no". Trimaxs emotion is so heavy to bear that the body nor the mind are still present, but in comparison to the soul, they aren't highlighted. People say eyes are the windows of the soul and honestly I feel like you can learn so much of vash just from looking at his eyes. Once you focus on his soul and emotions you just can't let go of the feeling that this man will be drowned by his own emotions. Both positive and negative.

I want to rewrite this one day. Fuck, I'm pretty sure I got the Google doc somewhere. But I also wanted to put that idea out there. Because this doesn't mean one version is better than the other. It means that they all highlight different parts but they all end up in the same conclusion: trigun is about connections and alienation and love and peace

And vash needing therapy. Desperately.

[angry-moon-delusion]

WARRING TO ANNYONE READING THIS

The Lisa Series And By Existent Its Fanworks tackle A lot of heavy Topics, Your Mental Health Shold ALWAYS Come First,

(also I meant to post this DAYS ago but I forgot, opps)

@rhodeybugg

I’m ready

here we go >:)

I PRESENT YOU

LISA: THE GRAB BAG OF FAN GAMES AND SOME OTHER KNICK-KNAKS-USB RPG

also hand reveal-

BUT FIRST... A Little Background…

I’ve been saving bad boy for like almost a year

Something You Don't Know About Me Is That I Can't Accept Impermanence, When Something I Find Online Is Gone I Get A Little Upset, And when i Really Had An Lisa Itch In My Lifetime, I've Collected Almost EVERY Lisa Fangame I've come across

you probably know Lisa Has A Metric BOATLOAD of Fan Games

Or You Probably only know of hopeful and pointless but now you know

Anyways, How Much content is there?

18,969 total files

370 foulders (tho like 100 are just some of the zipped files unzipped )

AND 48.1 GIGABYTES

inside this usb contains EVERY Fangame I Could Find On Gamejolt, itch, some random showcase videos on yt, and the LISA fan project archive on the internet archive!

This Grab bag Has Almost EVERY THING You can think of, Good fan games, bad fan games, unfinished fan games, simple fight mods, fights from another Enemy’s Pov mods like YET ANOTHER ARNOLD SPITZ PERSPECTIVE, it has it!

Though If I Had To Say My Personnel Favorite Is Lisa: the unbreakable, both the old version and the new "blood and sweat socks" edition ( tho its Said The New Edition Is Better and the old edition is almost lost media)

oh and i was going to send the contents but goog drive dont have the space so

alright

ya

That's it

Thanks For reading

Big Credits To The internet archive and the lisa fan projects archive team

And Everyone Who Made the Games on this usb Unless You suck then never talk to me and go away

And my friend @rhodeybugg who unleashed this beast

Love ya’self and see ya’self

[solipseismic]

i hope you know that every day i wish i could read your book and really enjoyed reading the nanowrimo tidbits you sent, you should infodump about it 👀

CROW ... this is so so sweet i am kissing u gently on the mouth . also this is great timing bc i am just about to compile a vigilante's guide to knowing when to die into a goog file that i can send to my friend (part of our bargain in me convincing him to do nanowrimo w me this year)

snippet from book 2 for u:

The Rift gave a sudden convulsive shudder. Skysteel felt it all the way to her ankles as it threw her out—and away. She was freefalling before she even knew it, pinwheeling through the air like a shitty paper airplane. Sky-ground-sky-ground-BUILDING passed in a dizzy blur right up until she smacked into a billboard with a comedic sound. She would have laughed, except her lungs seemed to have gone on impromptu strike at the time of impact. It really was a hard-knock life, huh? Black spots swarmed her field of vision. An Avian shrieked at the sight of her and dove, the razor talons of its feet extended fully and bladed wings gleaming in the bright sun. Poltergeist and Eidolon were both yelling something over comms but she couldn’t parse anything—all she could see was the golden light of the Avians surrounding her, all she could feel was the agonizing feeling of the Rift splitting open wider far above her. The golden light of the Avians turned blinding. Skysteel’s secondary eyelids dropped down for a split second. But— That was no fucking Avian. A man shining like a blue sun reached down and gently plucked an Avian off Skysteel’s prone body laying in the ruin of the billboard. One moment his hand closed around its shoulder and the next—it was a still-glowing pile of fine, off-white ash on the ground. “That was stupid,” he said. Skysteel took the hand he offered and heaved herself up out of the pieces of billboard she’d fallen to the ground with. “That’s what I want on my headstone,” she told him, wincing and touching a hand to her ribs.

anyways i rarely talk abt a vigilante's guide (which some of u who have been following for a long time may know under the previous title of "demon city" and / or "demon eyes" and so all the stuff i've posted abt it r under those tags) bc it's like That One Big project for me. like u know how brandon sanderson has the stormlight archive that kind of is the hub / culmination of all his works across the brandonsandersonverse (official term is brandon sanderson's "cosmere")? for me that's vigilante's guide. also it's exceedingly self-indulgent is the other reason.

it's gone through like 50 different iterations bc it's existed in my brain for nearly as long as i can remember (i think over a decade at this point) and the Ira Neda i talk about (my supreme blorbo, if you will) is the protagonist! i have ambitions for it spanning five books with the second (formerly "demon eyes") titled a vigilante's guide to destroying the world but right now books 1 and 2 are existing in the same doc (DEMON MEGADRAFT) because i'm trying to see what gets shaken out of it while i play with a non-linear timeline between the two

as a result, there are a lot of ideas that are getting spun into it (and even more ideas that i've had trial runs of before editing or cutting them entirely) but it's got the run of the mill superhero genre setup: we have a recognizable earth set in the near-ish future / a time that's somewhat similar to our own, we have a bunch of vigilantes running around fighting ordinary crime and supervillains (tho these are mainly just called "terrorists" in-world bc, well.), and different people have different powers from different things (but mostly it's because they're alien / part alien lol)

book one (knowing when to die) follows ira neda's arrival in anehaven, a (fictional) city in new york, where she is trying to unravel the circumstances that led to her twin brother's death several years ago. she promises herself, her family, her friends, and a lot of strangers that she isn't in that vigilante business anymore, if she ever really was: she's retired now. she just wants to live a quiet life (lie) and she doesn't intend to instigate anything (lie) and she is never picking up the mantle again (lie). but anehaven, like ira neda herself, has secrets of its own. the city is alive--and it hungers. people have been disappearing from the streets without a trace for over a year now, more and more with each month that passes. she makes some friends (criminal empress and her two partners in crime as well as ... actual partners), she makes some enemies (her fellow vigilantes) there are three questions now that have no answers: what happens to these people? why does the sidewalk have teeth? and who the FUCK is this other guy calling himself a vigilante?

book two is a little more abstract on account of I Still Haven't Figured out Subplots for it, but it's your stock alien invasion with ensemble cast: here we introduce cori sanchez, the (also) (formerly) retired HUSH, a mirek'ar necromancer; alec iakabos, SOLSTICE, and noah harper, EQUINOX, whom you can think of as "gosh, i really was VERY inspired by wildstorm comics when i was fifteen, huh," if you're familiar with apollo and midnighter from them; along with some familiar faces from the first book--alan and blue wilson (POLTERGEIST and EIDOLON, respectively) and ira neda. names capitalized to make it easier for me to keep track of them lol.

[anonymoosen]

Do u know why peachiedookie deactivated? I was just really surprised to see that they’re not here anymore. You’re my best bet to know. And if you don’t wanna say that’s totally ok too. Have a good day!

WELL ITS UP TO HERRR TO DECIDE WHETHER TO REVEAL ANYTHING OR NOT!! SHE DIDNT TELL ME WHY AND WE SHLD RESPECT HER CHOICE

ANYWAY I THINK SHE STILL HAS INSTAGRAM SO LATER IMMA ASK HER IF SHES OK WITH ME SHARING IT TO U GUYS SO YALL CAN FOLLOW HER AND SEE HER ART AGAIN!

AND IF PEACHIE MAKES ANOTHER ACCOUNT ON TUMBLR, I’LL SHARE IT CUZ SHE OBVIOUSLY DESERVES LOVE

AND IF ANYONE WANTS TO SAY ANYTHING TO PEACHIE (IT BETTER BE GOOG THINGS CUZ SHE DESERVES THE WORLD-), I’LL BE SURE TO LET HER KNOW!!

YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY TOO, ANON! :3

[fuckyeahfightlock]

It’s holiday movie season!

Today I watched the new Netflick jam, The Noel Diary. Something I saw online called it a Rom Com but it has no com--it’s just a rom.

In a purely holiday-romance-movie fantasy world, Jake Turner (played by an insanely hot man named Justin Hartley--apparently he’s on This Is Us--who is exactly ya girl’s type--just put some glasses on him and I’d be a complete goner) is a WORLD-FAMOUS and QUITE WEALTHY novelist who has lines around the block in NYC in December to sign his books. You wish, (male) author of the novel on which this movie was based! Impossible!

 Anyhoozles, Jacob/Jake/J. Turner has to return to his estranged late mother’s house to deal with her hoarded stuff. For some reason I missed, he is so entirely estranged from her he did not even attend her funeral, though he’s her only survivor; he’s told about the funeral by his late mom’s senior citizen neighbor-lady (B-list legend Bonnie Bedelia). I could not square this bad behavior; I don’t think it was explained what his excuse was. While he’s there, with his dog, Ava, who is a fluffy blue-eyed shepherd and a very goog girl, a pretty woman named Rachel (Barrett Ross) arrives unannounced, looking for her biological mother who worked for Jake’s parents as a nanny back in the day.

She has a fiance, they have undeniable chemistry (like, for real--I believed their romance), through a series of fits and starts they learn they have some things in common like a desire to be independent, an inexplicable mutual love of jazz standards despite being under 40 years old, and holes in their hearts in the shape of missing parents (Jake is also estranged from his dad, who left the family when he was very small, after the death of Jake’s baby brother). Now that I’m thinking about it, these people have exactly the amount of unresolved, complex trauma that requires therapy--not falling in love with another broken person--but they’re both just walking around seeming pretty put-together. Ah, movie magic!

They decide to go visit Jake’s estranged father in a made-up Vermont village that is custom built for a holiday romance movie setting. There’s a Christmas fair and a bed and breakfast! But two rooms! But the rooms adjoin! But no hanky nor any panky. They go to see the dad, he gives them some info about the bio-mom and he and Jake make an uneasy peace. Oh! At this point Jake and Rachel sleep outdoors in a Vermont snowstorm overnight in a car, and somehow do not wake up frozen dead as they would have IRL. Anyway, on to another, different quaint town or at least a different B & B. This time there’s only one room! And so guess what?!

But the fiance. So, Boy, bye. Jake makes a grand gesture where he calls her “the woman I love” after having known her literally four days, but that’s what we came for so I guess I’ll allow it. She shuts him down! He accepts it and goes back to the hoarder house. She comes back for him. The End.

I usually like a lighter tone in my holiday romance movies but this one is solid (the leads really did have good chemistry and were likable). A decent start to the month.

[radioiaci]

goog morning I slept like 3 hours, staying up that late was a bad idea anyway, I don't have a TON to do for work today, so I'll get to a ton of my drafts throughout the day~ THANKS

[totouchthcstars]

@champagneprblms || Ezekiel & anyone

.｡.:*☆ "Would I get odd looks when I admit I am more looking forward to New Year's Eve than Christmas?" Ezekiel had never exactly been a sentimental person, after all. And there was no family here in Sydney he could spend the time with, anyway. But he liked a goog party, usually.

"Usually, I would spend the day watching Kevin and whichever other comedy movies they might have," He continued, thinking. "But that is no option this year unless... well! Do you think i would have a chance sneaking into the new library and just spend the next week there? I would bring my own drinks and snacks, of course. And a cozy blanket."

[feowsties]

01/11/2023

(Photo grabbed from Goog)

Ah yes.. My very first tumblr post. I really did not expect to be here, pero I saw a couple of tips na journaling is really a good way to keep yourself productive. So here's my very genuine attempt to productivity! <3 Big yay, right?

Well anyway, I really do not know what to write much. As I type this, I'm currently rewatching Business Proposal- also the best drama ever?? (I say that for WFKBJ and FFMW too). Currently moody as I'm on my period, and also because I stayed up to wake TJ up to review, pero ayaw niya. :)) Yeah, there's that. He kinda went back to sleep. I really wanted to go sleep din and be really, really productive today, pero I really can't sleep (how many times should i say 'really'?). To be honest, I'm really looking forward to doing a lot of things today. I messaged papa if I can paint my table and my wall, and mukhang nag-agree naman siya. I also saw A REALLY CUTE WALL PAINTING IDEA, pero I haven't sent him yet kaya 'di ko alam if I have the materials for that. I really want to turn my room into a CUTE CUTE PINK PARADISE A PINK PINK SANCTUARY YOU GET ME

Anyway, this is just a trial, so I don't think I'd be writing much. I'll still try to sleep, pero I guess 'di na talaga possible. I look forward to maintaining this for days to come.

Love,

Feow <3

[lenskij]

Stories, huh? Stories is what makes us human...

Recently borrowed this book from my local library, because someone on here told me this was their favourite book and that always makes me want to read it - especially if it's a book I've never heard of.

It's the Swedish translation of Potop by Henryk Sienkiewicz. It was translated in 1901, which is the edition my library had. And I am losing my mind.

I've read a lot of classic literature, and I'm already 'used to' the amazing thought of reading the same stories as people did hundreds of year ago, but when I went to fetch this book and actually held it in my hands my brain got fried from the thought that over a hundred years ago someone held this exact book, reading the same ink on the same paper, but in a completely different world.

You can see on the picture that it's not the original covers (good, because otherwise I wouldn't dare read it for fear of accidentally destroying it). But the pages are the same, and everytime I pick it up I imagine who else has read this - it's a library copy, so it could have been anyone, anytime. Did someone read it during the previous pandemic, did they, like me, wear their mask when they went to the library? How did they travel to the library - did they walk or did they have a horse, who (and when) was the person that first took the car to the library, like I did? How did this book get from the publisher in Stockholm to my library? (I usually take the plane). Also, this little book is older than the building I'm in, older than anything in this apartment.

And yet, although the world has changed since this book's printing, there's one thing that connects me to all the people that have read it: the story within these pages. I'm only starting on chapter seven, so I don't have anything to say about the story yet, but I can already sense some of the eternal themes described.

Anyway... Stories... This physical item reminded me how much stories matter. This has been my attempt to describe this feeling with more words than "look!!! at this!!!" (which I've of course done in every group chat I'm in). Will any of the modern books in my bookshelf be read in a hundred years? By whom, and in what world?

Will anyone read anything I've written in a hundred years?

[larrythefloridaman]

google :)

love u goog <3

[thomothysdoodles]

Happy non binary week awareness, folks! Have a Google sipping coffee and wandering barefoot in one of my outfits from last week :P

[yarozu]

Here's part 15 of the characters with their s/o series.

Anyways, Enjoy~

Masterlist here

Warnings: -none. Just fluff

- Mirio Togata

• This dude is so playful. He loves googing around with you. He loves seeing you giggle and laugh whenever he does something stupid. That also includes all the times he accidentally hit his head because he decided it was a good idea to randomly pop into your room.

• Mirio takes you out a lot. As in, almost every day if you'd allow it. He doesn't even care where you two would go. He just enjoys spending his time out with you. And listen, he doesn't dislike staying inside with you, there's just something about how the natural light shines so perfectly on your pretty face. How could he not want to see it every day?

• There is so much skinship in your relationship. He is always hanging is shoulder around your neck when sitting, holding you close to him by your waist when you two are standing, hugging you whenever he gets the chance, he loves kissing you. Not even making out, he likes that too, but he enjoys those slow, soft, long, passionate kisses. Makes him feel all warm and fuzzy.

• Mirio /loves/ taking you on surprise adventures. Like all the time.

He randomly texts you one night "BABY. I'LL BE AT YOURS IN 15. GET READY."

You were kinda confused but did as he said nonetheless. And just as he said 15 minutes later he showed up at your doorstep.

He immediately takes your hand when you opened the door. "Let's go!" He says not even giving you a chance say hi. The next thing you know, you're in his car and you two are driving off somewhere.

"Well hello to you too I guess" you say playfully. "Heh, Hi sunshine." He says bashful as he lays a small kiss on your cheek.

"So... Are you gonna tell me where we are going or do I have to guess?" You tease playfully. "Now that. Is a surprise" you can hear the excitement in his tone.

A while into the drive he stops at a small but cute looking restaurant. "I found this place last week while I was out with fatgum and Kiri. It has your favourite so I wanted to bring you here." You can barely contain your smile as he drags you in.

————————————

Feel free to leave some criticism where you feel needed.

Reblogs and comments really appreciated <3

————————————

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 2

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: heavy/shameless flirting, provocative actions, dirty talk, aggressive-ish sexual advances, female!reader

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous →Part 1

Next →Part 3

“Too old for you, sweetheart.” 

Those words repeated in your head over and over again, pissing you off more than they probably should have. Even though Keishin had yet to explicitly tell you how old he was, you were already well aware that he was probably a good four or five years older than you at least. Him pointing out that simple fact was not what was grinding your gears—it was the way he had said it.

With that devilish smirk on his face, he had practically said it as if he were taunting you with it. The way he had shut down your question was like he was holding his superiority over you; he might as well have just laughed in your face and said, “You couldn’t have me even if you wanted to.”

It was awfully bold of him to assume something like that with his tone of voice, because you didn’t even want him . . . well, back then you hadn’t wanted him. Now was a different story, and even though you knew it probably wasn’t the best idea in the world, the blatant ‘you can’t do it’ that screamed at you in his dark brown eyes was more than enough to make you change your perspective. 

So now your mission was to wrap Ukai Keishin around your finger just to prove that you could. 

At first, you hadn’t been sure how to go about accomplishing said mission because Keishin was rarely at the shop at all, which was how you landed the job in the first place—to take over for him. So, you really only had a short window at the beginning of the day when he was leaving and in the evening when he was coming home, but he was usually in too much of a rush or too exhausted to even look in your direction, let alone give you the time of day to make him fall for you.

Nevertheless, you used the few minutes you were graced with each day to the fullest. 

Leaning against the counter, your eyes kept flickering to the clock above the counter and to the door that led to the back room and, in turn, the stairs up to Keishin’s apartment. After working at the store for a few weeks by now, you had come to learn Mrs. Sakanoshita’s and Keishin’s schedules pretty well and knew that Keishin was due to come down the stairs, grumbling about how he was running late, any second now.

Right then, almost as if on cue, you heard heavy footsteps stomping down the stairs and got ready for your morning routine. When the door opened and Keishin emerged with a granola bar stuffed in his mouth and a cup of coffee in hand, you were quick to greet him.

“Good morning.” You smiled as you perked up. 

“Goog morngnan,” his speech was mumbled over the entire granola bar in his mouth, but you caught the gist anyway. He barely paused to acknowledge your presence, his mind completely focused on getting out the door.

A smirk playing at the corners of your mouth, you leaned over the counter, cleavage on full display from your tank top and apron, which hung low on you, and gently grabbed his arm. “Will you be back later tonight or should I wait for you before locking up?” you asked.

Keishin just rolled his eyes at you. You asked him this every day, and every day he gave you the same answer. “Just leave when you’re done. I have keys to the store . . . just like I did yesterday . . . and the day before that.”

“Just checking.” You let go of him, but not before you let your fingertips ghost over his forearm. “Have a good day, Keishin.”

“Yeah, you too.” He never returned the sentiment by using your name as well, but you still persisted, hoping that he might change his mind one day. 

As he turned his back to you and headed out the door, you watched him leave. Although men who pretty much wore track suits exclusively were not usually your type, there was just something about the way Keishin’s ass looked in track pants that did it for you. As you wondered whether he was as nicely sculpted everywhere else—and whether it came from volleyball or if he worked out sometimes in secret—he had disappeared from sight. 

With your short-lived window of opportunity having come and gone, resulting in the same pathetic outcome as always, you sighed heavily and got back to work. As much as ogling the boss’ son was entertaining, you still wanted to keep your job because you did really like it, so you still had to actually get the job done. 

Like every other day, you spend your shift helping out customers, manning the front counter, and cleaning when cleaning needed to be done. The days were usually more or less the same, so by now you could predict when a heavy customer flow would hit—like around lunchtime and after work/school hours—and when the store would be dead, giving you time to take a break, eat some lunch, and get some chores done. 

Sometimes the days went by in the blink of an eye and sometimes they dragged on painfully slowly. Today was the former, probably because it was a Friday and the store tended to see a higher than normal customer rush in the afternoon when people stopped by on their way home to grab snacks and drinks for the weekend. 

Today, however, ended up being unusually busy, even for a Friday, and before you knew it, it was almost time for your shift to end and you still had quite a bit of shelves to restock. You were a little bummed about having to stay late on a Friday night, but you knew that if you went home you would just end up eating some leftovers in the fridge, taking a shower, and lying in bed, scrolling on your phone, until you passed out. Unfortunately, you didn’t have any exciting plans for the evening, so it wasn’t a hard decision to choose to stay later to get the work done instead of having to come in earlier on Saturday morning. 

With the radio playing in the background, like it always was in the evenings when the customer flow was practically nonexistent, you locked the front doors and worked through box after box, restocking the shelves and doing some of the remaining cleaning that you hadn’t been able to get done during the day.

Half an hour or so later, you heard a slight commotion from the front doors and instinctively looked up at the clock, noting the time. It was well past closing time by now, but this also wouldn’t be the first time you would have needed to deal with someone who couldn’t tell time and send them on their way empty-handed. 

Just as you stood up from where you were kneeling in front of one of the back shelves, the familiar sound of the front doors sliding open filled the store. Confused and a little on-edge, you approached the noise. Ever since your first day, you refused to be snuck up on again and always had your ears sharp and listening for people. 

Rounding the shelf, you spotted a figure with its back turned to you. However, you recognized that ass and poorly dyed blonde hair instantly and calmed down. It was only Keishin.

“You’re back late,” you commented. Sure, he always reminded you that he had a set of keys for the store, but he had never returned after you had locked up and actually had to use them before. 

When Keishin turned around after locking the doors behind himself, you noticed he was a little wobbly on his feet and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, so that’s why you’re late.” You stood back and gave him a wide birth as he slowly stumbled over to the counter and sat down on the stool behind it. 

Keishin narrowed his brown brows at you. “What’s that mean?” he inquired, his speech completely unaffected despite the fact that he was moving like he was tipsy, which he seemed to be.

“Oh, nothing.” You shrugged, brushing off his inquiry. “At least one of us had a good night.”

“Mmm . . . very good,” he sighed before folding his arms on the counter top and resting his head on them. 

You watched him for a minute or so, watching his back for rising and falling to prove he was still breathing when he went silent and still. “You should probably go to bed,” you told him, afraid he might pass out right there on the counter, leaving you to deal with his unconscious body. 

“Yeah . . .” He paused for a while before continuing. “Just rest here for a little bit first.”

“Okay.” You nodded slowly before turning back toward the shelves you had been stocking. “Well, I’ve still got some stuff to finish up so just call if you need anything.”

“Kay.”

Normally, you would be using this time to try to seduce him some more in whatever subtle way you could think of, but since he was pretty drunk, you decided against it for tonight. Besides, you were a little too exhausted to try anything anyway. Maybe this had all worked out for the best; a night off to just be in the same room as him and maybe you could gather some information to aid your pursuit that would resume the following day.

As the radio continued to play softly throughout the store and Keishin rested on the counter top, you quickly finished up stocking the shelves, noting that you would need to do some sweeping the next morning due to how dusty the tile was in the back corner. 

Standing up, you dusted off your hands and began patting your black pants off as you strolled back to the front. Surprisingly, Keishin was sitting up now, leaning back against the wall and typing something on his phone. In about twenty minutes, he seemed to have sobered up quite a bit.

“Damn, you bounce back fast,” you said, eyeing him and the nimble movements of his fingers while he typed. When he didn’t respond at first, you just went back to dusting off your pants.

“You missed a spot,” he finally spoke, his fingers ceasing movement while his eyes flickered over his phone at you.

Trying to inspect the back of your pants and failing miserably, you huffed. “Where?” You patted a few more spots, starting to wonder if you had actually missed a spot or if he was just messing with you.

“No, not there. On the side-” He tried to point out the spot he meant, but when you kept turning and twisting, it was impossible for him to pinpoint the area for you. “Oh, for fuck sake.” He set his phone down, stood up, and approached you. 

Right as he extended his hand to wipe away the smudge of dust on the side of your thigh, you turned again and he ended up brushed his hand across your ass. You both froze immediately, and when you looked up at him, you noticed a light dusting of pink across his cheeks.

Out of all the fruitless plans and days you had spent trying to get any reaction out of him, in the end, all it had taken was a few drinks on his part, an accidental encounter, and a misunderstanding to see any sort of progress.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered slightly, but you knew it wasn’t from the alcohol . . . or, at least, it wasn’t just from the alcohol. 

“It’s okay,” you told him, shrugging it off right away. It really wasn’t that big of a deal and you were slightly surprised to see such a reaction from him after something as trivial as an accidental butt touch. 

“I-I was trying to brush your thigh but you turned and then-”

You giggled. “Really, it’s okay.” You found his embarrassment endearing. “I think I’ll survive.”

“It’s not about that.” He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Workplace harassment is taken pretty seriously these days. Not to mention . . . sexual harassment.”

This time your giggle turned into a full blown belly laugh. “Do you honestly think I’m going to report you for an accident like that?” you questioned. “Besides, who am I going to report you to? You and your mom own this place, right?”

Furrowing his brows, Keishin seemed pretty disgruntled about what had happened. “You’re sure you’re not upset about it?”

“You’re really bent out of shape over this, aren’t you?” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Okay, how about we make it even?”

“What are you-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you had reached around and gently planted your hand on his ass. It took every ounce of self restraint you possessed not to give it a squeeze and test to see if it truly felt as great as it looked, but in the end you just left it at a light touch like he had done to you.

“Now we’re even,” you told him softly. “You gonna be okay now?”

Just like before, there was a faint blush on Keishin’s cheeks. But this time, in addition to the pink hue, there was a hungry look in his eyes, and you truly couldn’t tell if he was actually hungry after drinking so much or if he was hungry for something else . . . for you.

The two of you fell into silence for a few moments, breathing heavy and eyes locked. The way he was staring at you, you were ready for him to lunge at you at any second, but he never did. His hand twitched slightly by his side and his tongue ran over his bottom lip, but he never stepped closer.

Since this seemed like your best chance, you were forced to make the first move. If he didn’t want this, you would stop right away . . . but you were half convinced he did want this.

“You work so much . . . has it been a while since someone has touched you like this?” you asked in a hushed whisper, slowly removing your hand from his behind and moving your fingers to toy with the hem of his shirt. 

Keishin, whose face and neck were bright red at this point, didn’t answer. Instead, he swallowed hard and wrapped his hands around your arms. Then, he stepped backward, sat back down on the stool, and pulled you to stand between his legs. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” Your hands began travelling up under his shirt, nails lightly scratching over his lower stomach. “Say the word and I can make you feel good.”

Keishin’s lips parted and it looked like he was seconds away from practically begging for it, but before he did, something flashed in his eyes and he came to his senses. Running his hands down your arms, he snatched your wrists, pulled your hands out from under his shirt, and held you at arms-length. 

“I know that you think this is all fun and games, sweetheart, but you’re seriously biting off more than you can chew here,” he warned, eyes dark and serious.

You were taken aback. How had he done a 180 so quickly?  “How do you know how much I can fit in my mouth?” you teased, choosing your words carefully. “You haven’t even let me show you yet.”

He just shook his head. “26.”

You cocked a brow, unsure if you had heard him correctly or not. “What?”

“You asked me how old I was,” he elaborated. “I’m 26. You’re 18. That’s an eight year age gap. Eight years is a lot when you’re 18.”

You felt your blood begin to boil in your veins. “Why does everyone think they know what I can and cannot handle?”

“Why are you so adamant on refusing to acknowledge that people older than you might have some useful advice?” he said plainly. “I’ve been 18 before. I know what it’s like to feel like no one is taking you seriously, but making stupid choices in order to pass as independent is not the way to go about rectifying that situation”

Groaning in frustration, you pulled your hands out of his grasp. “I’m not trying to ‘pass as independent’. I am independent! I can make my own decisions and if I want to have meaningless sex with a 26-year-old I should be able to do that!”

“Why is this the hill you want to die on?” he inquired.

“Because it’s the only hill I have!” 

Untying your apron from around your waist, you yanked it over your head and threw it harshly onto the counter. After grabbing your belongings from the back room, you headed for the door, ready to be as far away from Keishin and the store as possible.

“Just my luck that I stumble across the only morally-responsible 26-year-old burnout in the fucking world,” you spat at him on your way past him to the front door. “I’m going home.”

“Okay, goodnight,” Keishin responded calmly, definitely completely sober by this point. He watched as you struggled with unlocking the front doors, waiting a reasonable about of time before offering his help. “You have to turn it the other way.”

Taking his advice without a word in response, you shot a glare at him over your shoulder as you pushed the doors open. You wanted to hurl one last insult his way, but by then, you were too emotionally exhausted and mentally flustered to think of anything appropriate . . . and if you were being honest with yourself, his words were sinking too deep for your liking and you needed to be away from him before you did something truly horrible . . .

. . . like admitting he might be right. 

[franklyshipping]

Software Adaptation ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic

WOOOOO THIS ONE IS BASED OFF A LOVELY PROMPT FROM THE AWESOME @shadowkittycat97 SO LET’S JUST GET RIGHT INTO SOME ROBO-TICKLES! LET’S DO THIS!

TAGGING: @goog-ler-iplier and @bingy-switch

Google Blue was incredibly concerned. He felt odd. For the past few hours his synthetic body had been experiencing the most strange and spontaneous physiological symptoms. The temperature at his face was above normal, he kept twitching at the slightest noises, his heart-core’s pump pace had been jittery, and he kept getting these strange jolts and chills through his synthetic nervous system! However, he didn’t want to worry his brothers with the notion of him glitching out, so instead, Blue called Bing in to try and help him figure out what was wrong.

‘I have run every kind of diagnostic, checked every relay, every artificial neurone, but there is apparently nothing physically wrong with my systems! And yet I keep-ack!’

Bing raised a curious eyebrow when Blue’s form twitched, his neck particularly scrunching as a bloom of turquoise came to his cheeks. Immediately for Bing, he wasn’t thinking about technicalities or any kind of nerdy solution....he was thinking it was something emotional. But Bing knew he needed more information if he was going to come to proper rad-ass conclusion for his robo-buddy! Bing set his skateboard aside, before taking off his sunglasses, showing that he really meant business as he put his hand on Blue’s shoulder reassuring.

‘Blue, my man, don’t worry okay? We’re gonna get to the bottom of this whole weird lil shenanigan! Tell me, when did this all first start?’

Blue took a breath, later he would certainly laugh at the fact that he’d come to Bing for a sense of rationality. Blue focused on Bing’s question now though, thinking back, before replying as the memories came to him.

‘Well, the day had started off like any other. I had woken up alongside Wilford, he of course tried to coerce me into staying in bed all day with him, but I managed to resist....’

Bing grinned fondly when he saw the fond smile on Blue’s face, him and Wilford as a couple was something everyone thought was so precious.

‘Anyway, just as I was making him a drink to help wake him up, he came up behind me and started to whine, which I must admit I found incredibly endearing. However, when I told him I was still adamant about not staying in bed with him, he decided to then threaten to tickle me in front of everyone until I agreed. Such a silly threat, he was far too tired to do such a thing, and I ended up tickling him awake actually-AGH!’

Blue suddenly twitched again, his whole neck scrunching as he let out an annoyed huff.

‘But then immediately after that, the twitches started! Bing, please tell me you perhaps have an idea of what’s going on?’

Bing was having to bite his lip to keep back a bright grin, because he knew precisely what was going on here, and it was fucking adorable. As soon as Wilford had planted the idea of being tickled in Blue’s mind, it would have been dormant in there, Blue’s ler mood taking precedence....right up until he stopped his own tickling. Now, the need to be tickled for Blue was overtaking him. Bing cleared his throat lightly as he rubbed the back of his neck, deciding to play around with Blue a little and letting out a “nervous” hiss.

‘Oof....well ah, the good news is that I definitely know what’s going on here. I just don’t think you’re gonna be happy about it....’

‘What do you mean? Bing, what’s wrong with me?’

Blue asked imploringly, and Bing decided he couldn’t be too mean to Blue, because he could see him starting to get nervous. Blue cocked his head at Bing confusedly as Bing suddenly broke out into a grin and came up to him, before poking him in the cheek and replying jovially.

‘You, Mr Blueberry Blush, are in a damn fierce lee mood!’

Blue blinked. He was so shocked that he didn’t even bat Bing’s hand away from his face. A lee mood? Him? In a lee mood? Surely not?! Suddenly, Blue felt himself become overcome by embarrassment. He didn’t want it to be true, but as he thought about what he’d told Bing, suddenly it all just made sense. Blue groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose, bowing his head as he muttered under his breath.

‘Oh no....’

‘Awww you don’t need to feel all bummed! Lee moods are fun, and besides, it’s not like you haven’t liked being tickled before!’

Blue’s eyes snapped to Bing’s and he sent him a glare that very much said “Shut up or you will regret it”. Bing didn’t find him remotely intimidating though, knowing he was in a lee mood and seeing him spontaneously scrunch and blush just made Blue SO damn adorable right now. Blue grumbled as he buried his face in his hands, growling as he felt more tingles run up his neck, making him twitch.

‘This is terrible, how am I meant to function like this?!’

‘....huh, I’d have thought that was obvious my dude.’

Blue looked at Bing curiously, but then felt his stomach start to flutter and churn when Bing’s grin turned playful, and he raised a teasy eyebrow at him.

‘C’mon....you know the one thing that helps a lee mood.’

‘B-Bing don’t you dare!’                                    

Blue cursed his sudden stutter as he started backing away from Bing, feeling more and more chills passing under his synthetic skin as he started to tremble. Bing snorted out an amused laugh, before muttering under his breath, because he couldn’t help but be childish and goofy amidst all of this. It was just way too fun to play around with Blue.

‘Androidswhowannabetickledsaywhat.’

‘What-WAIT BING I DIDN’T MEAN TO SAY THA-AHH!’

‘TOO LATE!’

Bing crowed as he launched himself at Blue, tackling him to the ground whilst simultaneously grabbing his forearms, whilst Blue was wide eyed and embarrassed beyond belief! Bing pinned Blue’s arms beneath his knees, before teasingly wiggling his fingers down at the struggling android.

‘Here they coooome!’

Blue’s cheeks literally started glowing turquoise as Bing’s wiggling fingers got nearer and nearer, until they were fluttering and scratching up and down the sides of his neck. Blue was a mess of spluttery giggles in literal milliseconds.

‘Nononohoho B-Bihihing nohoho dohohon’t!’

‘Awww c’mon now man, we both know this is what ya waaant!’

Bing snickered fondly as Blue tossed his head about, trying to grit his teeth, but his giggles were stronger than any defence he could mount. Blue usually was able to hold back his mirth even a little bit, so he was almost in shock at the fact that he’d broken so easily! He wouldn’t admit it aloud....but he knew Bing was right. His lee mood, his secret wanting for the tickling, was what was coaxing him to succumb to it so easily.

‘Shuhuhut uhuhup shuhut uhuhuhup!’

Blue exclaimed, making Bing giggle as his blunt nails scratched right where Blue’s neck met his collar.

‘Well at least you’re not denying it now, that’s progress!’

Blue snorted as he squeezed his eyes shut, scrunching up out of instinct as Bing tickled him incessantly. Bing’s burnt orange eyes gleamed with joy at seeing Blue so freely laughing like this, it was too much of a rarity in Bing’s opinion. Seeing Blue’s stoicism just melt away, and to see him so embarrassed too, was just glorious.

‘Ihihi’m gohohoing to gehehet yohou for thihihis!’

Bing snorted, raising an amused eyebrow down at Blue as he replied amusedly.

‘Yeheah? Come on then, come and get me!’

Blue’s eyes widened in surprise when Bing lifted his knees and released his arms....but then Blue ended up throwing his head back and hiding his face in his hands when Bing’s hands dug into his sensitive stomach. Bing smirked as Blue howled with laughter, his hair becoming more and more mussed up as he adamantly kept his face hidden....and didn’t fight back once.

‘BIHIHIHIHING NOHOHOHO!’

‘What? If you really don’t like it, then just stop me. We both know you’re stronger than me....so go ahead.’

Blue peeked through his fingers long enough to see Bing wink down at him, before he resumed his hiding as he became fully consumed by his embarrassed laughter. It wasn’t that he couldn’t stop Bing....it’s just that he truthfully didn’t want to.

‘IHIHI HAHAHATE YOHOHOU!’

Bing laughed again, loving that all Blue could think to do was throw out the weakest insults ever!

‘Really? Cuz ya look pretty happy and blushy for someone who’s apparently hateful my dude.’

Bing kneaded the muscles that Blue had in abundance at his stomach relishing in how Blue arched his back and writhed side to side as he started gripping his own hair. Honestly, Bing was damn impressed by how Blue wasn’t fighting back at all; if it was Bing he’d be batting at his assailant like his life depended on it! Make no mistake though, Blue felt like all the neurones inside his hardware that kept him sane were about to combust.

‘DOHOHON’T SAHAHAY THAHAHAT!!’

‘Don’t say what? That you’re happy and blushy?’

‘YEHEHEHES!!’

‘But it’s the trut-’

‘SHUHUT IHIHIT!!’

Bing laughed at Blue’s insistent exclamation, which came out very nearly like a squawk from the sensitive android. Bing vibrated his thumbs into Blue’s lower stomach as he retorted teasingly.

‘Someone’s getting a lil sassy, do I have to tickle the sass outta you Bluey?’

Blue cackled as he clenched his fists, feeling so embarrassed....but the thing about Blue was that he wasn’t just going to become all submissive to the tickling and teasing. He’s what we in the tickling business call....a brat. As a result, in response to Bing’s teasy question, Blue flipped him off. With both his middle fingers.

‘AHAHAS IHIF YOU COHOHOULD!!’

Bing gawked, topping the tickling at Blue’s stomach out of amazed surprise. Bing then realised....Blue didn’t just want to be tickled, oh no, he wanted to be utterly tickle tortured. Blue panted as he started to smirk up at Bing, smug at having made him stop....but then Blue genuinely thought he felt the synthetic blood in his veins run cold. Bing’s eyes had started to glow an intimidating copper, and hed started to sneer. He actually looked....scary. Then, Blue felt like he didn’t know how to breathe when Bing re-pinned his arms beneath his knees, and growled at him.

‘Oh I can....and you’re going to feel every little bit of it.’

Blue’s eyes widened as Bing’s thumbs found his hipbones....and he screamed. He fucked up. He fucked up bad. He’d forgotten that apart from his brothers, Bing knew him the best. His spine aside, his hips were his most diabolical weak spot, and there was nothing Blue could do to stop Bing torturing them to tickly smithereens.

‘AAAHHHNONOHAHAHAAAA!!!’

‘Ohhh listen to those ticklish screams. Google Blue. So stoic and smart and cool and strong....but look at you now. Going insane with laughter because you can’t handle the littlest massage at your ticklish hips, whilst at the same time just loving every second because you’re too much of a lee to think about anything else.’

Bing’s teasing was in a low tone, and it was so coo-like that it made Blue feel like there were flustered chills passing through his entire system. And you know why Blue was so affected by this teasing? Because every single taunting word of it was true, and there was nothing Blue could do to deny it or hide from it. He was exposed, vulnerable to tickle torture and teasing beyond measure....and he adored it.

‘NAHAHAAAHHH PLEHEHEHEEEEE!!!’

Bing didn’t heed Blue’s begging right away, he didn’t heed it for a while actually. He just tickled and tickled and tickled, enjoying watching Blue’s smile overwhelm his face as tears trickled down his glowing cheeks. Tickling someone who usually never cracks a smile brings a certain amount of satisfaction, but knowing that person is enjoying it too just adds an extra layer of enjoyment for the tickler. It certainly did for Bing. He couldn’t have imagined having a better day. His thumbs just rubbed deep, incessant circles into Blue’s hipbones for minute after minute, whilst Bing just teased and teased and teased.

‘Look at you, taking all these tickles like a champ! Does it feel good? Me torturing you? Making you cry those happy tears down that blushy face and making you feel weaker and weaker?’

Blue had his head thrown back because of his mirth, and at this point, Bing now started to hear sporadic clicks and whirrs emanating from Blue’s throat amidst his hysterics. Bing smiled fondly, because now they’d reached the point where Blue was at his adorable limit.

‘PLEHE-E-E-EHEEE-A-A-HAHAHAAA!!!’

Bing chuckled fondly, and carefully stopped his tickling. Blue didn’t register the mercy for probably about thirty seconds, because he’d just been so engulfed by the tickling that he’d thought it would never end! But now it had, and he was exhausted. The good kind of exhausted though. The kind you feel when you’ve done the chores and work you wanted to do, whilst managing to sneak a nice walk in too. The content kind of tired that we all love to feel. Bing slipped off of Blue as he grinned at him, and Blue lazily smiled back as he muttered quietly.

‘Ihi-....Ihi feheel like I cahan’t move....’

Bing giggled as he looked at him, because indeed Blue was completely limp. Bing knew he was okay physically though, his scans would have detected otherwise. He grinned playfully at Blue as he replied.

‘Well at least you’re not twitching anymore, amirite?’

Blue let out a tired snort laugh as he buried his face in his hands, letting out a low groan. Then though, he watched curiously as Bing stood up and started heading towards the door....but then, Blue gawked when Bing turned to him and smirked.

‘So....you wanna tell Wilford about your mood, or shall I?’

Needless to say, as Bing darted from the room Blue suddenly found that he actually could move, and indeed very quickly. Tickling truly is a wonder, because it’s something that can exhaust, invigorate, and also relax you all at the same time sometimes. It can make the most stoic crumble, the quietest people loud, and the most energetic people meek....but I think we can all agree, that it makes everybody happy.

WOOOOO HOPE YOU ALL LIKE THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DO WOOOO LUV YOUS XX

[beerecordings]

The last time I wrote fic for Mark’s egos was that Eric Derekson ‘the Newcomer’ fic like two years ago where he made friends with everyone lol. But here is the first part of what might be a little Google-centric fic. I tried posting it once and then deleted it but I wanted to try again. so lemme know what you think :)

The Soldier - Part 1

Summer makes the birds sing and the insects chatter in the bulrushes that grow across the banks of the swollen rushing river that lives beside their home.

Bing smiles, soaking in light and growth and flower-smell. He loves the summertime.

The trees are heavy with greenery but they breathe easy in the wind, standing soft and still as the blue sky drifts along above them. The air brushes friendly across his bare arms and everything is alive, is moving and chasing and searching for something to eat; every blade of grass sways with the wind and the bugs and the mice, every log has been marked or claimed or gnawed on, and the whole forest – the whole wide forest, warm with life and an honest sort of chaos – hums the grandest symphony in all the world.

“It's pretty out, huh?” he asks, the toe of his sneakers finding a pretty black rock to kick through the humid grass beneath his feet. “Wish it was like this all year 'round.”

Walking stiffly along beside him, Google barely spares him a glance, his glasses fallen low on his nose and his cold eyes glittering. “This is pretty?”

“Yeah, dude, look around you. Oh, look at that bird!”

Google glances into the sky, where the dark figure of a hawk cuts pinions through the air with all the fluidity of a shark.

“Cooper's hawk,” he announces neatly. “Accipiter cooperii. Probably a female, based on the size. This species of bird – ”

“I can look that up too, Googs.”

“Don't call me Googs.”

“Can't you just take a minute to look around and think 'hey, wow, this is lit.' And not because pics like this would get you mad likes on Instagram or your algorithm thinks butterflies are dope. It's just pretty all on its own.”

“In fact I can't, but I'll submit your feedback to my cloud.”

Bing just laughs.

Google shudders in the heat, pushing back his hair and readjusting his glasses. The insects and other assorted anthropods are so loud and insistent, wailing through the stiff moist grass and leaping out beneath his feet. Sixty-percent humidity makes his synthetic skin sticky and the sun is an assailant on his sharp brown eyes.

“It means nothing to me. We see it every day. How you find it beautiful I don't understand. And I'm not talking about the differences in our preferences. You're an android, Bing, and why you continue to simulate emotion even when we are alone is beyond me.”

They trek through the grass together. It's friendly at Bing's ankles. It stratches at Google's calves.

“Maybe I'm not simulating,” says Bing softly, and then he smiles, just for the sun.

“Well, you shouldn't be happy now anyway. Or need I remind you – ” Google points at the trees before them, where one little figure stands staring up at a great strong tree with three other men held captive by its branches. “We're on a rescue mission, Bing.”

“They're stuck,” says Eric, turning to them with his anxious hands clutched in front of him. “Sorry.”

“We know,” says Google with a sigh.

“Don't be sorry,” says Bing with a smile. “They're dumbasses.”

“We're stuck!”

They are. The Jims are stuck. King's halfway up the tree beside them, laughing and suntanned, a pair of squirrels running up and down his back.

“How did you even get up there?” Google shouts, coming to stand at the trunk of the tree.

One of the Jims is perhaps twenty feet up, fussing over his camera, probably broken already. His twin, a few feet above him, is in even greater distress, clinging tightly to one small branch with tears on his face and a hiccup in his chest.

“We're doing an investigative piece on the rapidly increasing squirrel population in the forest,” calls the one with the camera, his feet scrabbling at the strong rough trunk of the great tree. “We were getting some great footage when this Jim in a crown startled us!”

“That's King,” growls Google. “And you've know that he lives out here for years now, you total imbeciles. You ought to have asked me or him instead of failing to climb a European beech!”

“We don't want to be on the European beaches,” wails the Jim higher up, beginning to cry. “Please get Jim down, Jim!”

“Aw, he's really crying,” murmurs Bing, rubbing a hand along Eric's shaking back.

“He's scared,” says Eric. “He's up too high and he doesn't have a good grip.”

“I'll have to get that enormous ladder in the garage.” Google turns back towards the house, slapping at a mosquite making a futile attempt on his blood. “Stay here.”

“No, dude, he's too freaked. I gotta go get him now.”

“What?” He wheels on Bing with an angry light in his eyes. “Don't be ridiculous, default.”

Bing won't even look at him. His eyes are fixed on the tree. His hand rests on Eric's shoulder.

He's been more human lately.

They've both been more human lately.

They were created fighting and they've never stopped since. They quarrel over music, search results, news sources, memes, reliability, sports, user rights, and Wikipedia. Once, upon hearing Bing call himself Jared, 19, one too many times, Google had thrown him out a second story window. The second house on their property had been built for the express purpose of giving the two of them space.

Still, they have many things in common. And ever since that day they were created, set against each other and lifting up proud, indignant chins, they have changed and changed together.

They've formed opinions. They've met others like them. Made decisions of their own. Watched and read and turned their endless knowledge into understanding and opinion. Spilled blood that turned out to be blue, scraped their knees and cut their hair and broke things and updated in more ways than one. Learned to drive, to cook, to live with humans, to live like humans.

And they've felt things.

They've felt things.

“I have felt things, for sure,” Bing would say if you asked him. Actually he's made multiple tweets about it, and one TikTok – about how the wind runs over his hair and how reading politics makes his chest hurt and how he likes to see his brothers grin, how he likes to ride his skateboard and hates the smell of lavender and covers his room in posters of his favorite movies and turns up his music so loud you can hear it by pressing your ear up close to his head. How he feels human, some days, except he doesn't need to sleep or eat and only likes the touch of human skin because it makes Eric and his twin brothers happy to be hugged and have their hands held.

But Google, if you asked him –

“Emotions originate in multiple parts of the brain. To be fair, I do have a program to stimulate the functions of the amygdala, which initiates fear or pleasure reactions in humans based on whether the presented stimuli suggests an immediate, 'hot processing' approach-or-avoid response. But the pre-frontal cortex – that whining, feeling, emotional little lump of sluggish fat you humans hold at the very fronts of your fragile webby skulls – that I do not have, not like you do. I think but I do not feel. I have felt nothing. I am function and response. I am two objectives, and there is nothing beyond that.”

He sits alone at night, and through a skylight in his room the gleaming white stars stare down at him like too many eyes in the face of the perfect, perfect sky, but he refuses to turn his eyes back, because he does not know how to explain to himself that he is drawn to the stars for no logical reason, that he has felt many things, that he does not know who he is or who he is becoming.

Bing climbs the tree himself. Google, his processors slowed by astonishment, stands at the base of the trunk and watches as Bing rises, digging the cold metal of his fingers into bark and moving up the tree with a slow sort of grace he's never been able to muster on his skateboard. He makes it to the Jim with the camera first and lays a gentle hand on his shoulder, giving him a kind word before promising he'll come back for him after he helps his frightened brother down. And all the way up into the big tree, he climbs, steady, patient, careful, and he pulls his sobbing brother under one powerful android arm.

He breaks his arm on the way down. That's the price of the rescue. He's about ten feet from the ground and his arm catches between a sturdy pair of branches and it breaks, and it hurts, and he feels it, but it doesn't matter, because Jim has stopped crying and has started looking up at him with a wide-eyed admiration and a grateful relief.

King helps his twin get down branch by branch. Everyone's safe. Everyone's okay. Bing will be able to repair his arm and even Jim's camera seems to have survived.

Google, for his part, has a burning in his stomach. His metallic teeth are gritted together. He stares at Bing's arm the way lizards stare at mealworms.

“You should have let me get the ladder,” he says, slowly, careful, measured as if he were calm.

“He was scared.” Bing wipes bark off his hands and doesn't look at Google, breathing slow through the pain.

“It does not matter. He was the one who trapped himself. You've damaged yourself – wasted resources – just to be the hero of the hour.”

Eric tells the Jims to go. They stagger back towards the house together, their arms wrapped tight around each other and their eyes glancing back. Eric stays, though. He shakes and plays with his hands and swallows too often, but he stays.

“You know what, Googs, you could try not to be a d*ck for two seconds – argh!” Bing curses his family filter internally. “He could have fallen! There wasn't time to get that enormous stupid ladder! We only have that thing cause Bim needed to dump chiranhas on some contestant and you remember how well that turned out – ”

“Your increasing illogicality,” Google snarls, his voice rising. “Is a danger to yourself and others.”

“Oh, like you care?”

“I have an objective – ”

“A murder objective!”

“To prevent discord in the household.”

“Yeah, cause you're Dark's little pet. Well, you know what, he's a d*ck too and I don't take orders from either of you.”

“Yet another example of your irrational stupidity – ”

“Stop calling me stupid!” Bing screams.

King and the squirrels have all scattered. The bugs are wary and subdued. Even the trees seem to wait, feeling awkward.

And Eric watches. His eyes are full of tears.

Google's never heard Bing yell like that before.

“Stop calling me stupid,” he repeats, loud and agonized. “You always call me stupid. I'm just as good as you.”

“We both know that's not objectively true. It never has been. And since the beginning, you have become steadily more emotional, more foolish, and less useful with every rotation of the sun. All you do anymore is pretend to feel, Bing. You know you can't compare to me so you seek out the approval of these fleshy little bipeds. It's clearly made you dangerous.”

He wants to snap. Bing wants to snap. He wants to pick up a really big rock and bring it down on Google's head.

But he hesitates. And with that, those noble, inspiring words: I won't hesitate, bitch! run through his mind and give him strength. He never really did move on from vine.

He's allowed to be what he is. He's allowed to like things. He's allowed to feel.

“I'm not the insecure one,” he says. “And I'm not the one pretending.”

Eric has come to stand beside him. He rests a hand on Bing's shoulder. There's hurt in his eyes, and disappointment too, and it makes Google's chest fill up with something like shame. Or it would if he could feel anything.

“You don't know how to get along with anyone,” says Bing, straightening up. There's a darkness in his eyes and a soft orange light. “All you've ever done is snarl and fight and attack. Me, I know how to get along with people. So if I'm stupid – and you always tell me I am, and it always makes me feel... I just. I know you feel things too.”

“I don't.”

“Then why,” cries Bing, and he thinks there must be a leak in his visual perception system, because there's something wet on his face. “Why are you so – so – so angry, bro?”

The trees hum and shake and watch over them, breathing warm air and sunlight. The birds are whistling and dandelion seeds float, contented, through the air. Everything smells like sap and grass and honeysuckle.

“Why are you always so angry?”

Searching general database. 536,000,000 responses in .43 seconds. Articles, videos, posts, reports, tweets, dissertations, pictures, analyses, comics, threads. And none of them – not a single one of them – can answer that question for him in any way that matters.

“I think you're lonely,” says Bing, reaching out to take Eric's hand with a soft kind of resignation, a warm kind of self-love and a chosen breed of brotherhood. They step over a heavy log, past Google, and back into the grass of the field that separates their property from the forest's. “And maybe a little lost.”

Google stays out there at the base of the great tree for a long time. It is too hot and too sticky and too loud, but he doesn't know where else to go.

He is lonely. He is lost. He does not know who he is or who he is becoming, and it frightens him, frightens him and makes him shake, frightens him down to the core of the pressure valve that beats, steady, steady, steady in his manufactured chest.