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fizziefactory · 5 months ago

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How did you think up each of your concept for your Robo Fizz OCs? Like go in-depth about the choices you made, why you chose their names and such. I want details.

Questions about the fizzies || Accpeting

Oh that's a juicy one… and lengthy too, let's see where we can start. This got so fucking long holy shit pick your fav section idk I'm so rambly-

The very first muse I made was Factory Fizzy, or FF-8842. I can say right away that their factory name, which is the only name they go by, doesn't actually mean anything! I just think it's cute, I really love the number 8. In hindsight, 42 I can make the argument being a subconscious nod to “A hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy”, a book series I loved when I was a teen. 42 is the meaning of life, and FF-8842 is struggling to find the meaning of their life.

But most of all, Four-Two, or Fou-Too, just sounds cute.

They were originally made for a comic that I wanted to draw for the song The Fine Print by The Stupendium, sometimes I just get brainworms when I fixate, and I end up drawing lengthy comics to songs I like. I needed a fizzy to work in the Fizzy Factory for the song, so I made a fizzy with a simple design, clothes with no dyes, “horns” without fabric on them, basically a fizzy that didn't need to catch anyone's eye, nor drain resources and money. This is also why while they're quite strong, they're only 4’1”.

Now I play a lot on the idea of a fizzy that was created with a strong sense of self, of sentience, as soon as they were created. Usually it takes my fizzies a few years to reach sentience, if they ever do… but FF-8842 is a “defect” always at the verge of being scrapped for being too much of a free-thinker. This definitely evolved from the original comic, where they clearly do not possess the same distant look in their eyes as the other fizzies.

The second fizzy I made was The Manager. His name was originally just Office Fizzy, which I later weaved into his backstory instead. I actually asked my friends how I should refer to him, and they liked the simplicity of The Manager, and I think while it might be a little bit of a mouthful, it's oozes just what kind of person he is.

He is the Manager. He makes sure this clock is turned up and ticking.

For the comic, he was originally more of a guide for new fizzies, and of course the one doing the singing/talking in the comic, and if you want a good idea of what his inspiration was, look no further than the song itself. It's all there. Eventually Manager evolved into something different. He became, well, less someone handling the papers in an office, and more of an actual… manager, of the factory.

The idea to make it all Entirely fizzy-made tickled me, and so I tweaked his story a little bit, having him climb from an “Office Fizzy”, to being where he is now, so successful he even managed to alter his own design, which no fizzy of his model has done before… he even owns his own fizzies. Has businesses outside the factory (not to Mammon's knowledge but yknow-) making big cash and giving into greed because of the influence from Mammon, by simply being made in his image, and giving into it. A success story for the ages. He is a control-freak at this point though, to make sure he doesn't lose it all.

I also gave him an Australian accent because he's spending way too much time around Mammon. That's just a fun fact ♡ Also all the green and gold in his clothes also point to how closely he works with Mammon.

Mortis had his name change many times. He went from simply Undertaker, and I considered Morty Briefly… but decided against it real quick. I went with Mort for a while… but I just loved the way Mortis sounded. I know it's wormed into my brain because of Faith (don't ask me about the plot of that game I don't Know) but Mortis just felt Right. Mortis is the Latin noun for Death.

Mortis also came from The Fine Print. There's a section of the song that goes like this;

“If you'd rather drop dead, that's fine

But you know that dropping down dead bears a fine

So you do your job and I'll do mine

I gotta meet a six-foot deep bottom line”

And I don't know, it just fired off my creative juices like… what if there was an undertaker fizzy? That'd be so cool… and so out there xhdbbd. I have always had a complicated relationship with death, so I enjoy writing morticians because of their various different ways to approach the subject. Mortis started off approaching it quite casually… It's hell after all, but the more I wrote him?

I got to put myself in his head and how he was thinking, his life-philosophy, how me having placed him in Wrath affected his outlook, and now he's become almost philosophical, now he's holding sermons in Satan's name and I believe he puts his own beliefs into them… and despite having such a sad job, and how he has to face such misery and grief every day… It's somehow helped him become the most at peace fizzy I've got. Because he understands life and death better than any other fizzy, while also getting to be on his own and expressing and exploring himself best a fizzy can.

He is heavily inspired by the Undertaker in The Backwater Gospel, who is quiet and non-threatening, but his mere presence is enough to send you into a panic.

Why is he here?

Who’s going to die?

He's also heavily inspired by the YouTube channel Little Bubby Child since he's from Wrath and all. I will meme on him til the day I die.

Mizzy got her name from Maid Fizzy, you smoosh the names together you get Mizzy. For a while I also had Dolly as a suggestion, but it didn't really stick with my followers. So it's kinda become a nickname certain fizzies who knew her before the memory-wipe call her, like Thizzy and The Manager.

Mizzy was always meant to be a companion bot, I wanted a fizzy that actually did what the commercial advertised the fizzies to do. I made her a maid because I wanted to play around with her owner being a weeb, and I simply wanted to dress her up in cute little outfits that I knew a guy with his own companion bot would want to see. In time the idea of her once having belonged to Burnie Burnz, Fizzarolli's stalker, wormed itself into my brain… and the misery tripled from there.

I think it was because I wrote out a scene with a friend where I played him briefly before he got eaten by a sandworm (shoutout Beetlejuice the OG), and I recalled his line regarding the fizzies not getting him off right. I wondered what kind of shit a disgusting guy like him would even do to a fizzy if he planned on murdering Fizzarolli, so I, unfortunately, made Mizzy his fizzybot. The only solution was the memory wipe… and that's why she's so head empty most of the time. Her programming is protecting her from remnants at all times.

I really wanted to show how messed up the companion bot situation is with Mizzy, which is why she's been used sparingly. I love a good healing story though, so I've tried to bring her in more where she gets to regain her power and independence and tweaked her current owner to be a little less awful to give her a break… but still awful nonetheless. She's always ripe for fizzy-adoption.

Ginger has changed so much from the original concept. At first she was named Fuzzy, for a fussy fizzy. Then later when I switched up his design, opting for the red design in the commercial I thought looked neat as hell, I decided to go with Ginger instead. It just sounded right, all things considered.

Ginger started out as Fuzzy, who was heavily inspired by Sun from FNAF to be perfectly honest. I have 3 Sun OCs very near and dear to my heart, and I love writing anxious nervous wrecks… so that's what I did for a while. Eventually I leaned into him snapping more and more, running out of patience like Brandon Roger's Mom character, and as I wrote them in IC group chats, I realised more and more that Fuzzy was actually rarely if ever anxious… they were mostly stressed and Irritated.

And I was never happy with the original design… it was cute but didn't spark joy, it felt hasty. I spotted the design in the commercial I liked the most, and I remade everything.

Now Ginger is Something Else Entirely.

She's tired, he's pissed, he's at his wits end, and they're Dangerous if you look at them wrong. They became a Mama Bear, while also something of a Big Sister character… grumpy and with a resting bitch face… but a heart of gold below the surface.

I wanted to explore the fizzy for the kids and teens, the meaningless chores that fizzies have to perform for demons like carrying bags and making dinner and other kinds of butler-stuff, and just how straining tiring and meaningless it all felt, all while Also being a companion for the adults.. Despite Mizzy, Ginger has turned into the fizzy that's the absolute most disappointed with their lot in life, and hates Fizzarolli just about as much as Pinwheel. This is also why they are siblings in the human AU, they've got much in common.

Thizzy is simple. Therapist+Fizzy=Thizzy. Briefly he was called Shrinky, but I left it instead as a nickname he got from Doc, which he absolutely despises, because I could Not take it seriously.

Thizzy was taken from the commercial, I interpreted his neutral face as one of absolute indifference, and I figured this is Hell and this is Mammon so… originally he was meant to not give a rat’s ass about anybody, especially not his patients. However while writing my muse page for this blog, I had him write out short “profiles” for the other fizzies… and I thought Hey… what if he checked up on the fizzies too?

Now he's part of a larger process that The Manager runs where he checks up on the fizzies on the regular to make sure they're doing fine physically but also mentally (at least well enough to perform their tasks), and in time I found that Thizzy actually did care…

He cared too much, which is why he tried to not care at all. Because the alternative was to let it all get to you… Despite not wanting to get involved, it's in his programming to do so, and he's got a good heart, albeit only metaphorically.

Now he's just so tired... and working in the Sloth Ring doesn't help this.

His relationship with Doc is the result of when he was still in his early years and just performed his tasks as he was programmed to do… and now he's stuck in this unhealthy toxic relationship where he has to make sure Doc is happy all the damn time. Luckily for him, he mostly is. At least as a robot-

Finally, Doc! Doc is easy enough, he's Doc because he's a doctor! I did consider Doccy but it reminded me of. Another word, so I backtracked bxhrhe. I worried it'd be too generic but… it just fits. He's Doc. Nothing else fits like Doc does ♡

I just stared at the screen when Doctor Fizzy came on. Those colours. That Forced Grin, those soft little cheeks… that blank fucking stare. This was an unhinged doctor-character and I needed him in my life. My cringe, emo, deviantart-browsing, gore-loving, Higurashi-watching, Hatoful Boyfriend-playing, problematic teenage-self... they needed this.

He hasn't actually changed much at all. He was always inspired by those crazy doctors you see in anime, games and horror movies. Their silly giggles and the over the top surgeries and bone saws and all that stuff.. he's my horror and gore-character, for when I want to write a bit of this and that, which I do find a lot of fun.

I don't know what really made him as flamboyant as he is… I think just the nature of him being a crazy doctor character while also being a sex bot… and when I discovered the Bubblegum Coquette aesthetic- and in time I developed his relationship with Thizzy. His clinginess opened up the idea of how he's probably not got a lot of connections because of how “intense” he is, and while he's not quite as sentient as the rest… he's getting there, every time he reflects on how lonely he is.

His only way to connect with others was by keeping body parts of whomever he operated on, that was All he was ever able to get his hands on fair and square(?).. and he started getting unhealthily attached to those parts. Now he actively seeks them out because it's the only form of love and attachment he understands so far, and if he gets attached to people to a strong degree, there's a chance it turns into love/obsession, which will push him further into sentience, and so on now we have a yandere too.

Cringe.

But at least I'm free.

He's the perfect example of when a robot is Not taught how humans and emotions actually work, and now he's already registered what he knows as truths and facts.

Imma not cover Imposter too much cus really I just got inspired by that That's not my neighbour-song before I even knew there was a game, and I wanted to make a strong fizzy for quite some time, that could work as Manager's bodyguard to make him pose more of a threat than he did on his own. I loved the black and white aesthetic because of absolute neutrality, and my fiance mentioned that it looked like a pierrot and I was like Hell yeah accidental pierrot let's go-

They obviously has a bit of Ennard from FNAF in them, or the Mimic or whatever that new enemy is called... I think it's a pretty natural robot-plot device at this point. It is a fun bot to play in group chats where I can pretend to be my other muses and wait and see how long it takes my fellow muns to realise there's a question mark at the end of the tupper bot's username. It communicates through motions and clicks, sign language, when it isn't disguised, and is very mischievous and a troublemaker.. I dunno, the inspiration is "gremlin".

#input command [ asks ]#instruction manual [ hcs ]#see my name on the list? [ imposter fizzy ]#sorry i wasn't listening [ therapist fizzy ]#like a cheshire cat i think that you are just a grin [ doctor fizzy ]#call me baby doll [ maid fizzy ]#have you seen my son [ caretaker fizzy ]#the last man standing in our sinister charade [ undertaker fizzy ]#you should've read the fine print my friend [ manager fizzy ]#we work to earn the right to work [ factory fizzy ]#long post #this took. years

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classificationhell · 9 months ago

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How would Alastor, Both Lucifers and Vox react to their little having an oral fixation and also being a bit of a biter? Not doing it out of anger or misbehaving, they just tend to lightly chew on their own hand or other items around them for comfort.

Funny story I saw this and was like did I already answer this, and the answer is yes, but actually no lol I did a similar one for Fizz and Ozzy though so that was were my brain was getting hung up lol

Alastor has his thing about touching so he sort of understands in that he has something he can't really quite control. He would not allow any biting of him or Hotel property though or guests, not that he cares about Angel Dust but who knows where that man of the night has been?! What kind of diseases could they get by biting that effeminate fellow? He didn't want to find out.

He would likely carry around a pacifier and attach one to them if they were regressed or if they were big make sure they had lollipops of something to focus on hopefully instead of biting but if they need to all Niffty asks for is a lock of their hair. He'd try breaking them from the habit of chewing on themselves though that simply won't do if they must chew on someone's flesh then go for Husker's or even that snake, or Alastor could procure a severed limb easily enough!

Vox now has two lovable babies who like chewing on things. He has to be careful with you regressed around Vark's toys because more than once he's caught him sharing his chew toys which is simultaneously the cutest and most disgusting thing he's seen and he can't just scold Vark because what he's doing is objectively good and he's being nice to his Sunshine like he said so he basically has to divert both their attention away and hide all the chew toys. Tries pacifiers for a bit, but has the opposite problem of them trying to share with Vark. Might try and hypnotize them not to share with Vark but then that'd make him sad and it could backfire. Will try and deter nibbling theirself, would likely hypnotize that one away, which might've caused the toy problem. Overall doesn't mind it as long as it's not self destructive or overly dirty.

Both Lucifers are fretting and trying to curb the chewing habits for germ reasons and because their darling could ruin their nails or hurt themselves if they have sharp teeth. Mourningstar's solution to the problem is essentially gloves made out of his magic that are soft and sturdy and self cleaning now they can chew away and he can not fret about germs and such. Lucifer meanwhile will try and work with them to curb the habit or get it focused more on things like lollipops or pacifiers.

#ask response

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inahc3 · 5 months ago

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I was hoping it would take me about a month to recover from moving, this time - as opposed to the three months it took last year. In a way, I was not entirely wrong - my body had recovered enough before the end of May that simply standing up didn't make my legs try to cramp. And yet, here I am in late June, finally admitting to myself that the odds of writing before July are slim, and yet not being entirely sure how I got here.

At first, it was the chores. Things postponed until after moving, like address changes that couldn't be scheduled in advance. Things related to the new place, like learning to use the appliances. Minor surprise issues, like having to buy shower curtain rods.

Then the urgent chores were handled, and I did my best to space out the others - I'd much prefer to hyperfocus on getting all the house things done, but that way lies burnout and frustration (ok I did actually have a burnout week too, that sucked), and besides, I'm sure new house things will pop up on a regular basis now that we don't have a landlord to call about them.

My RL social life took off too, and that was a fun kind of exhaustion. While that was going on, I decided I'd rather fill my head with appliance manuals during the week, figure out their quirks (like how the dishwasher delay function gets weird if you open the door), and *then* dump all that knowledge into my reminder app before filling my head with WIPs and plot instead.

I think I procrastinated a little after that was done - or maybe I had too many appointments. my memory is foggy and my notes are cryptic. I did at least have some stuff fizzing in the back of my head still, and one sleepless night I figured out a solution to my biggest plot hole.

The weekend after our housewarming party, I was determined to get back on that horse. I got all my notes out, flung some documents onto the shiny new TV, and filled my brain with plot again. Sorted out all the things that needed deciding about the plot of part 1, how the plot hole solution affected them, which scenes were most urgent to write in case they jumped the tracks and changed things - I was all set to spend Sunday Actually Fucking Writing, with my notes all around me to help get back into things.

Then Sunday came with an opportunity to do things I'm normally not well enough to do, and I decided that was worth postponing the writing just a little bit. Surely I could do it in the afternoon. Or on Monday, at worst. I even brought my laptop along in the hopes that I'd have writing time while I was out.

I ended up doing pain management instead of writing, and then being so exhausted I made the very stupid decision to read Just One Chapter of a fic someone had recommended. It was a good fic (dustverse), and I can never have just one, and then it was 6am and I was deep into both spoon debt *and* sleep deprivation. 🤦 So I resigned myself to a few days of recovery. I recovered, made plans to pick up the writing again on the weekend - and promptly got sick instead. 🤦 Ugh. I can't write while sick even when I have something to continue, let alone when I haven't touched my fic in so long anxiety thinks writing is an existential threat. 🤪

So here I am, beginning to recover - the good news is I think I'll be well enough to travel for an important medical appointment, the bad news is I need to save all my spoons for that and not take risks, plus my brain is full of Things To Pack (which I have not properly written down, FML) with no room for Things To Write. And I know I won't write shit while I'm away, and there'll be a pile of postponed chores waiting for me when I get back.

I'm gonna need a solid day of Only Writing to push through the anxiety, and it's gonna suck so much, and I don't actually think I'll have room in my schedule until July. 😭 And I can't even afford to have strong feelings about it right now - gotta stay relaxed and give my immune system all the spoons that aren't spent on packing.

NGL, it's times like these that make it tempting to throw in the towel and leave the writing to people who don't have to fight their own brain over every goddamn word. But this story really, really wants to be written. So I think I'll keep trying. At least until part 1 is complete and I get the ineffable idiots talking again.

I got a really nice comment on it a while back, too, so my beta readers and I aren't the only people looking forward to more chapters. :) :) although at this point, I think it makes more sense to sketch out the remaining scenes and have several mostly-written chapters to edit, to be sure all the plot threads come together well enough, instead of going mostly chapter by chapter like I have before. So even once I get writing again, posting could take a while. Slow and steady wins the race, I guess?

#writing update #just rambling #writing is hard

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fizziifrxg · 1 year ago

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Fizzarolli really didn't know what to expect from him, what he had planned all those years ago. Growing up Blitz was a jokester, and that was where his mind went to at first. What if he tried pulling a prank on him that night that simply went wrong in the most disastrous of ways. A prank that ruined the circus, their families, their friendship.

Though he wanted to pace himself as he drank, he found himself downing his second cocktail, his nerves were getting the best of him. Then he signaled for a third as he waited for Blitz to get his bearings and be able to tell him what happened all those years ago.

His own brain trying to remember every little detail that he could from that night, but from his own point of view he saw his friend. Glaring at him when he was nothing but happy to see him, the fire as it started, and him coming face to face with a box that was labeled 'fiyawoiks'. The spelling itself making him think it was something planted there by the imp, thinking it was set up to get rid of him. Though now he was thinking differently, so he waited expectantly as Blitz tried to get his thoughts together. Waiting for him to simply spit it out.

"Yeah, it was my birthday party, everyone was there. I had been WAITING for you that night."

After all he couldn't imagine such a special day without his best friend, all this really made him wonder just what he was getting at. What was he trying to tell him? He wanted to urge him on, but he could see just how riled up he was getting and didn't want to push him too far or too fast. He could also understand why he was getting worked up, even if he didn't know the reason. That night had been a lot for the both of them, leaving them both with their own trauma because of it. Now they were purposely digging around in their past, naturally some not so nice emotions would begin to emerge.

Then there were the tears that he saw pricking at the corners of the imp's eyes, slowly spilling over as he tried to wipe them away. Fizz could only assume so he wouldn't see, but it hurt to see his friend cry like this. Yet he had no idea what to do or how to comfort him, so all he could really do was drink and wait. Tail swaying behind him incredibly anxiously. Until finally Blitz was able to get it out.

He wanted to tell him how he felt?

Just hearing that made his heart skip a beat, though it still left him thoroughly confused. He knew how that sounded, but there was no way that's how he meant it, right? After all, they were best friends! It was that reason alone that he had kept his own feelings and emotions hidden when they were so young.

"How you felt?" A cybernetic claw almost reached out to him in order to comfort him in some way, watching his friend nearly break down, but he was quick to bring it back to his side. Not too sure what would be acceptable in this situation. Yet he found himself asking, "how you felt about what, Blitz?"

A quick grimace to the question. Because the answer to it was anything but easy to say. If it had been, he would have already said it by now. It was just he wasn't sure that after everything, Fizz was ready to hear the truth behind the events of that night fifteen years ago. He had a good life now. And while it was okay to look back with nostalgia and wonder what if--there was no reason to over complicate it in the present. At the same time though, he had no idea what Fizzs reaction would have been back there either. Times had changed. They both had changed. So, maybe he was overthinking this. Besides, wasn't their meeting here tonight to put all of this behind them so they could move forward?

Blitzo exhaled and set his drink back on the counter top before him. Now, half empty. He still couldn't bring himself to look directly at him while he prepared to spill the truth behind the accident. How he had unintentionally started that fire without realizing it at first. And had been too late to do anything about it. It all was tied to the reason he had gone looking for Fizzarolli and the reason that he had a change of heart. The story of a heart that had been breaking for over a decade. Years had gone on and much like Fizz, Blitzo had made adjustments. Except the guilt he had carried for so many years had made it nearly impossible for him to form lasting, healthy relationships.

"Y-yeah... I came looking for you that night..." He started slowly, his grip around his glass tightening while he spoke. "But uh... I saw you with everyone else and--and my dad..." Teeth clenched at the mention of his estranged father.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes before he could stop it. The scene unraveling in his mind. Fizz, smiling and turning to wave to him while his father handed him a card--mocking Blitzo as he often did. The others surrounding him, laughing and enjoying his company. And then there was Blitzo, who was never good enough and would never be good enough. A fact that his father never let him forget. Thats why, Blitzo had turned away and thrown out the one thing he had planned to give to Fizzarolli. The one thing he had been unable to give to anyone ever since. It had all gone up in flames that night. Yes, Blitzo had lost a lot to the accident himself.

"Fuck--Fizz..!" Blitzo choked finally turning to look back at his lost friend. "I didn't plan to run off like that or--or for the fire...!" He slammed a hand down on the bar counter now while he turned in his seat to face the other imp fully. His free hand moved to press against his chest while he continued. "I was going to tell you how I felt that night."

With a sniffle, he raised his free hand up at an attempt to wipe away some of the tears that had managed to fall. "...Not that it does any good now, but--at least you know why I..." His voice softened, "...I'm sorry, Fizz."

#[ IC; ]#[ THESILENT-O; ]

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killmebythebeach · 2 years ago

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That one Dream mindreader post by @lilyvines cuz it hasn't left my head (no pun intended)

...

Please. Just. Something.

...

Dream smiled. He had this war in the bag, 100%. Not only was he way more competent than any of them, he also had a traitor planted, and not to mention his mind reading.

He was on top of the black stone wall. It would be impossible for the revolutionaries to not notice him, he definitely saw Tommy and Tubbo look up at him, but they knew it would be futile to chase him out.

Dream peered down, looking into their run down van. He dug into their "president's" mind, hoping to get an edge in the upcoming war.

My... oh gosh I'm tired. I should go talk to Tomm- do I really want to talk to Tommy right now though. I should check up on them though and make sure they don't die. Or fight Dream he'll get all pissy about that. Is... I can't tell if that's new or not and I don't want to ask. Eh. Maybe I will ask just so I can make fun of it-

Dream shook his head, unteathering his mind. YIKES. While learning nothing important, at least whatever that was boosted his confidence. Okay then, he should check Tommy's mind. While loud and annoying, there must be SOME reason he was the "general's" right hand man.

Dream instinctively covered his ears, even if he knew it wouldn't block out a brain's noise, at the sound of some awful "music". He couldn't tell if it was a mix of string instruments of flutes or both but the high notes pierced his ears and the low notes just didn't sound good. Dream gritted his teeth and dug deeper, refusing to leave without SOMETHING.

Oh my gosh I am going to- what am I going to do- I'm going to scam! Oh I need to talk to Wilbur (Wilbur!) Oh and Tubbo! Tubbo Tubbo oh what is he doing I'm going going to go and... gah. Okay who's someone I can antagonize with no consequence uhm Sapnap wouldn't care too much but that's boring hmmmm...

Dream felt his eyes blurring as thoughts whipped around in his head. He was almost in awe of the pace Tommy talked at, he wondered how much got filtered into his mouth not because the boy had a filter, but simply due to the aerodynamics of his brain.

Maybe Fundy had something? Surely Wilbur would tell his own SON something. Anything. Please, just anything.

Dream jumped at the electronic sound of Fundy's brain. Like a TV fizzing out, loud beeping and static. He could almost SEE the white and grey and black fuzz.

Why we're they like this. At least he could see how someone was dumb enough to try and fight him, none of these people have ever had a coherent thought.

I've got my shovel and my trousers and my hat and da- Wilbur's in the van... would he want to see me? Should I tell him about my dream or about my new invention or- no he doesn't want to see me maybe I'll go hang with Eret yeah Wil's busy with planning and stuff-

Ugh. Dream could FEEL the daddy issues leaking off of the tinkerer. The best part to Dream was that Wilbur could DEFINETLY use a break from his own thoughts, and also definetly wasn't doing any war planning.

He peered down at the idiots, and not that he would ever admit it, begging for any valuable information.

There! Eret was over by the lake, laying down in the grass like a corpse. He specifically asked them to gather info, they were his mole, after all. Even if they couldn't root and burrow through minds, Eret must have picked up SOMETHING through their observations or even verbally.

Okay I got to think of something cool to say, do fish spawn in this water? I kind of want to say hi to- what was that song I heard earlier that Fundy showed me... I'll remember it eventually and ooh! Can't wait till I'm king I'm gonna have such a cool outfit and castle and crown and hehe hehe what would I even do as king actually would I have to put it through Dream? Probably. Maybe I should...

Dream groaned. WHY DOES NO ONE IN THIS "COUNTRY" HAVE SECRETS TO EXPLOIT?!?!

Dream paused, considering for the first time that any time they had anything on their minds they WOULD just say it out loud.

The van door creaked as Tubbo went up the rickety steps. Tubbo!

Surely- SURELY- Tubbo knew something. Easily impressionable Tubbo, very clever but never spoke on any of his ideas. Dream might have considered him a threat in another world if he had any motivation to finish projects or didn't just follow around the others like a lost puppy.

Like they said, crouching moron hidden badass. There was no way Tubbo wouldn't have something. Dream leaned forward, digging into Tubbo's mind.

I should make a bee house what's a bee house called... like an aviary but bees and... maybe I should ask Wilbur he knows a lot of words or Eret but how would I make it I need glass and oh my gosh what is Tommy doing! Tommy Tommy Tommy! He's about to do something stupid that's going to be funny- oh gosh what if I'm doing something stupid right now and everyone's thinking the same thing and-

Dream jumped out of the boys mind before he got stuck in the spiraling thoughts.

There was. NO WAY. These were the people he was fighting a whole ass war with. HE ENLISTED one of these guys, and this was their peak performance. Middle of a war. Bees, songs, and executive disfunction on the brain.

Dream spent a good minute up on the wall, contemplating his life, before jumping off and walking home.

Sure he had the war in the bag, but now he was more concerned for the L'manburgians than anything.

Well, at least HE didn't have any planning to do.

#dream smp #dream smp au #dream smp fanfiction #dream #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #fundy #eret #tubbo #blue tells stories

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breakfast-cereal · 4 years ago

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Stupid For You (2) -Johnlock

← ← MAIN MASTERLIST

← PART ONE

PART THREE

!¡Trigger Warning¡! DO NOT IGNORE!: mentions to drugs and addiction, alcohol use, vomiting, hints to declining/poor mental health.

Rosie's hair was in a slightly dishevelled braid that reached just above her shoulder blades

"Youtube seems to be helpful for tutorials. Slightly inaccurate, though." Sherlock looked as if he was about to write down notes.

"It's YouTube, Sherlock." John looked at Rosie who had a massive grin on her face

Rosie rushed to Sherlock and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you, daddy!"

Sherlock didn't seem to protest and accepted the role of a father figure to Rosie. John was confused by this. If Sherlock was a father figure to Rosie wouldn't that insinuate that he and John were together? Does that not bother Sherlock?

"No problem." Sherlock ushered Rosie back to her room and then sat back down to work on the case.

John sat on the couch, sneaking glances at Sherlock while watching some sports game on the telly. He reached for his phone on the table and scrolled through it while watching the telly and concentrating on Sherlock. John was hoping this would have some distraction from his headache. The light from his phone just seemed to make the headache worse. John had opened google and was staring down at it. His headache was horrible and those confusing feelings had returned to plague his thoughts. Without thinking, John entered "John Watson and Sherlock Holmes" into the search bar and entered it. He looked around anxiously as if someone was going to pop out of any corner and catch him looking at this. The worst would be Sherlock. Results popped up raging from "Johnlock" blogs to articles describing their relationship. John clicked on the first article and skimmed it until reaching a part that specifically piqued his interest.

Sherlock Holmes and his partner John Watson's relationship is obviously less than platonic. Relationship expert, Tiffany Laines has confirmed multiple theories with her video "Debunking 'Johnlock'." Laines stated in her video that "Holmes and Watson are very close for just roommates. It seems it's Holmes&Watson rather than just Holmes and Watson. Based on body language queues, like the leaning in from Watson, and the way Holmes' colleagues described him as brash whereas it seems John does not find him that way. Can this mean Holmes treats Watson differently? Of course, we can never be sure with their limited interaction, but my speculation is something is going on."

John read over that paragraph multiple times. He read it for what felt like hours. He stared and analyzed it wanting to know what they meant. What the secret meaning could be even though the truth stared back at him. He wanted to throw his phone. Launch it across the room. Find whoever wrote that article and beat them. Instead, John put his phone down and made his way up to make some tea.

"Tea?" He asked into the air, hoping Sherlock would maybe answer.

"Yes, that'd be nice."

John prepared two cups and watched while the water boiled in the kettle. He listened to it fizz and at some moments John wondered if it would boil over. John could be compared to a kettle. He would fizz and bubble until he reached a point where he would just stop or boil over completely. John believed he was a calm individual, though he wasn't. It's hard being calm when you're rather vigilant all the time.

"I've got it!" John spun to see Sherlock pacing around the house frantically. "It was so obvious how could I have not gotten it!",

"What?",

"It's objects! The numbers were words and the words were objects. I've got a lead, John.",

"How did you manage to get that out of a sheet of numbers?" John was impressed. Well, not impressed, because Sherlock could solve a murder with his eyes closed and hands tied, but his skills were always impressive.

"It became quite obvious with hints. The necklace the woman had is a precious object so at first, I thought it could be something expensive, but there's nothing expensive in our flat. Yes, I'm assuming it is in our flat, as the woman left these papers in our flat rather than taking them to Mrs. Hudson, or some other person. Of course, maybe it's just because she was one to visit us, but with the pieces of paper originally the coordinates seemed to also have directions that were rather similar to the way to get into our flat. To sum it down simply, there's clues in certain objects in our flat." Sherlock seemed so animated when he talked about these things. He always strived for perfection and clarity on his cases and when he got it, it's like it sent him into a high. "Don't drink the tea, by the way.",

"What's wrong with the tea?" John felt overwhelmed with this information. There were hidden messages all over the flat. What if he stepped on one? Or got it wet?

"You added milk to yours. It's expired. Strange you pour the milk before the water." John looked at the milk in his cup that had small chunks in it and dumped it down the sink, sugar swirling down with it.

The kettle finished as John was there and he poured it into Sherlock's cup. He waddled over to Sherlock's desk and placed the tea, noticing the messy state of affairs. Sherlock's desk had papers all over it. The papers in the centre focus were the ones from the most recent case. One paper had computer, Jane Eyre, heart, written on it, while all the others remained blank.

"Heart?" John felt a strange feeling when Sherlock looked panicked. Sherlock looked like that word wasn't supposed to be written.

"Likely mistake. I don't know why that word is there. Stupid mistake." Sherlock quickly flipped over the paper and overemphasized the grab of the cup. "Go watch telly or something. I'm busy." John hated the way Sherlock would brush him off so easily. Even with living with him all these years he still couldn't brush off the hurt it caused. He wanted to get his mind off this, but his mind immediately went to drinks. With what John remembered happened last night, drinking was the last thing he wanted to do. So instead, John left the flat.

He walked the opposite way from the pub. His mind thought of one thing and one thing only; Sherlock. He felt like one of those articles as he speculated what heart could be. Does Sherlock have a secret photo album of Irene Adler? John was sure that Sherlock didn't have any human organs (they had cleaned all those out after John screamed at Sherlock over the fact that if Rosie ever found them she'd be terrified.) Was heart meaning that Sherlock's heart had been taken? Was he in love with someone? John felt a spike of jealousy and resent for whoever this person was. How dare they have Sherlock's heart. Why can't it be John? John paused internally. Why was John so jealous? He didn't like Sherlock. He never liked Sherlock. Sherlock was a friend, but friends don't get jealous over their friend's relationship because they want it to be them. Maybe John wanted Sherlock as a little more than a friend, but he only liked women. His brain was just being weird again. It's because he hadn't been with any women in a while. He just missed Mary, and Sherlock was the only person around that he could be with, so his brain was just skipping to conclusions. John needed to meet someone. There was one person that came to mind, the woman he had met on the bus. He had always wanted more and now was the time for that. He could unblock her number and text her. It would be something that has no strings attached. It will help John get his mind off Sherlock. He'll be able to realize his feelings were stupid.

When John was back at the flat he felt strange guilt. Like sending a text to this woman would be cheating on Sherlock. Sherlock wasn't romantically interested in John at all. John stared at his phone and the text that was sitting and waiting to be sent

Would you maybe want to meet up sometime this week?

John shut off his phone, he needed time to consider. He wasn't sure what he wanted. He wanted something. He wanted someone, but this just didn't feel right to him. She didn't feel right for him. He felt like he would be using her. He would use her to distract himself from his own problems. He didn't need a distraction he needed advice. He really needed advice. Who was he supposed to get advice from?

John sat at a small table with a pink linen table cloth on it. The chairs were rickety and felt as if they were going to fall apart any moment, whereas the table cloth looked pricey and was clearly good quality. It had ballerinas dancing on it, and could definitely be used as a small blanket.

"What are you here for, John?" Mrs. Hudson asked,

"I need some advice." John expected Mrs. Hudson to be the last person he went to, but there he was, sitting in her flat.

"Aw, did something go down between you and Sherlock?",

"No, no, that's not it. Well, I mean. I don't know." John wanted to smack his head into the desk. "I need advice on feelings."

"Oh, John," Mrs. Hudson sounded genuinely caring. Or maybe John just wanted her to care.

"I'm not in love, before you think I am. I'm just confused and I want advice.",

"Is it Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson knew before John. The articles knew before John. John realized with those words, that he was indeed stupid for Sherlock. He had to admit it to himself. He can't deny it all.

"I don't like men." Denial, denial, denial. All he did was deny. He had realized, but he wasn't going to acknowledge it. He may know, but if he ignores it, it's not real.

"I may be your landlady, but that doesn't make me oblivious." ,

"But I'm not-"

Mrs. Hudson interrupted him, "my advice is to stop denying it."

John pushed up from the table, shocked the chair didn't crumble. "I think that's enough advice for today." He hissed as he left the flat.

TAG LIST: @johnlocktrashsblog @ephemeraljimin @artefo @love-j0y

#johnlock #johnlock fanfic #john watson #sherlock holmes

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quirkthieves · 2 months ago

Text

-> @bulletshot

He listens to Kaminari's attempt at a comeback with an emotionless expression. Nothing but stone in the face of Kaminari's sparking, fizzing fury. He yawns at one point, even.

Once he's done fuming and hissing, Monoma looks at his watch.

"Two minutes. Two minutes and thirty-seven seconds of my time that you just wasted. There, that's your impact." He wasn't going to let Denki know that out of his barrage of insults, one of his arrows managed to lodge itself under Monoma's ribs (this kinda thing [...] make you feel like a person for a bit?); instead, he was simply going to be worse. You can't reward bad behavior, after all!

"Wasted time, wasted quirk, wasted brains. I'm sensing a pattern. Is continuing this fight really what you want to do? Think for once. Do you really, really want to continue this with me?" He had no intention of holding anything back. Kaminari had been stung once. If he didn't know better by now, it was his own fault!

"You seem very hung up on this little ethical concern you have about my behavior. You think you're better than me, don't you? Because I'm so terribly mean." He emphasizes the end of his sentence with a mocking pout, brows knitting together and mouth pulling into a smile. "You're just so~o~o~o~o aghast at how terrible I am, is that it? Isn't getting on a high horse like that a little hypocritical? I mean, after all, you are working on that quirk of yours! I guess that means you have to be really aware of what electricity can do to the human body, right? Muscle spasms, of course. Headaches. Cardiac issues-- you know, my grandmother died of a heart attack, isn't that something? Seizures. If the current goes through the eye, it can cause cataracts. And you know, I read about something the other day-- I'm sure you're familiar already-- it's called compartment syndrome, it's this little thing that happens when you get electrocuted, where your limbs swell and compress the arteries... Oh, all sorts of nasty things can occur because of that. It's treatable if you get it quickly, of course, but on the scene of a crime... Well, it's not really a priority to go pick up the fallen baddies, is it? I guess it's fine when it's them, right? Villains aren't the same as us normal, human people. So if you make a few drop dead by hitting them with a full charge, that's fine!" He waves his hand.

"Although... you know, Recovery Girl's quirk only speeds up the healing process our bodies already perform. If you were to hit someone with a million volts while training, and their heart stopped... Ahh, that's scary, isn't it? I guess you could try to resuscitate them, but there's no guarantee... And besides, even a short loss of blood flow to the brain can be catastrophic. But I'm sure you're very aware of that, right? You've measured out that risk."

He steps back a little, shrugging his shoulders and throwing his hands out in a mocking gesture.

"I guess I just don't understand because I haven't been working on your quirk like you have... but how is what I do any worse than giving someone a heart attack? It only comes close if you blow your brains out." He makes a gun shape with his hand and gestures putting it to the roof of his mouth and shooting, before laughing. "Although I guess you don't need one of these to do that, right?" He waves his finger gun and shrugs as he does his little dance-step, that fluid weaving about to nowhere in particular that made him so hard to follow.

"I wouldn't know, though! After all, I'm not doing anything seriously. I'm just messing with people. Which is just so much worse." Kaminari's words are flung back at him to serve as a little garnish on Monoma's attack; just to make it extra clear-- You could never fight with me on my level. Anything you say just gives me ammo.

He watches annoyance and embarrassment blot across Kaminari's cheeks in red. He watches, eyes round, unusually focused. He watches, with his pupils drawn into thin white slits, taught like the tightrope Kaminari didn't know he was walking on. The rest of his face is nothing, gives nothing, belies nothing, and that nothingness says everything; a pure and condensed type of anger, a dying star, coiled and ready to strike, which shows in the strain of two fists clenched at his sides, shaking slightly.

That sharp hatred is held at Kaminari's throat for a moment (oh, if looks could kill!), and then Monoma breathes deeply, releasing the tension from his shoulders with an exhale and putting on his best smile. He languidly closes the gap between them, and gives Kaminari a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Well done. That was quite bold, for someone like you." his friendly smile never wavers. "After all, you know how common electricity quirks are, don't you? Dime a dozen. It must be nice, to have that kind of job security. Tradesman jobs can be pretty cushy." His grip tightens, but not enough to be painful. After all, he wasn't here to start a fight; he was here to finish one.

"I can't say I'm envious, though. After all, once we graduate, you'll have a lot of competition. And let's be honest with ourselves; you aren't the best electricity user out there. Not the worst, certainly, but the drawback of your quirk and your already lacking wits leave a lot to be desired. You're going to find yourself awash in a sea of electricity quirks, destined forever to hit midrank on the hero charts. I commend your networking ability-- you certainly have the personality of a potential star, but riding Bakugo's coattails will only last so long, especially when you don't even have the spine to get him to remember your name." He doesn't let Kaminari get a word in edgewise, continuing ahead.

"That's what it is. Your personality is offset by your garish tastes, which exist because you already know you have to compete for attention. The only thing that's worked so far is making a complete fool of yourself, so you've deluded yourself into thinking that you can turn people laughing at you into laughing with you. It's desperate. You have no self respect, no spine, and the bit's going to get old. But you know that. You've given up on yourself already, but you just won't admit it. I won't say you aren't impressive now. That wouldn't be true! But you're impressive for a highschooler, and you won't be a highschooler forever. I think you'll hit, say, 22, and you'll realize your career was washed up before it even really started." this was only superficially like his constant provocations; but in reality, they couldn't be more different. These words were meant to cut, and they were meant to cut deep. No real showmanship or theatrics to it; the sword wasn't one that was meant to fold when stuck in the box.

"I'm sure you think of me as a nobody, and that's true. But I think you have it even worse-- you're a somebody, but the somebody you are is doomed to live out your life drowning in mediocrity, never miserable but never really happy, reminiscing about when you had famous friends and bragging about your biggest catch to whoever will listen, just so you can feel cool." He steps back a little, and brings his face close to Kaminari's, smile gone and brows raised once more into that terrible, patronizing look of disdain.

"I'll give you credit for the audacity. But don't ever assume again that you and I are rivals of any sort. I'm not competing with you-- you just happen to be one of the many little tools Bakugo uses, and you really ought to be more grateful that's the case. Trying to make things personal with me isn't a level little tools like you are able to handle."

#bulletshot

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