#might be a scene in fic? ohohoho

[comically-blu]

when a touch-starved triangle puts up his very pretty danger comet up for snuggles

Since I revealed that one form of Bill’s in PPC… here’s a mini comic brought out from the void, context here

Comic continues⬇️

[doomed-era]

i might be wrong about this because i've just done some preliminary research but you know how mellie (botw sheikah lady) will talk about how the plum trees in her garden were planted around when she was born (iirc Impa planted them.) from the research i've done most plum trees live maybe 30-40 years on average, unless they're taken care of very well, such as in some japanese plum blossom gardens. in such cases they can apparently live to be over one hundred. chinese plums also seem to be pretty delicate trees

idk i just find it interesting that plums are seen as a symbol of tenacity (which I believe is stated in-game. this is also a real thing) when it actually requires a lot of effort to keep them alive. there probably is a reason for this, and I still need to do more research!! but it's interesting

[swiftstreetfox]

curious about "won't you wear my flower crown"! :D

Ohohoho! You have chosen one of the few fics I’ve actually fleshed out to some degree, and made art around lol. I’ve got a bullet-point outline and about 3k worth of text smashed out already!

It’s a mashing of two soulmate AU’s in one, a soul animal x dream walking AU. Basically through some deliberate quirky (heh) interference, Aizawa and Izuku start sharing a dreamscape together. BUT! They don’t know it is the other for they are in the form of their souls, which are the animals that most represent them. Naturally Aizawa is a cat and Izuku a hare, and they can’t understand the other right away either! So lots of fun interactions, with the natural consequence of sharing a dream effecting their waking life mwahahaha!

So here is a short snippet: (Izuku is currently at a fall market with the dekusquad, Aizawa the chaperone. In this scene he is talking to a mysterious vendor)

——————————————————————————————————

Her gaze pierces into his, oddly reminiscent of Recovery Girls own disapproving look when he inevitably winds up in the infirmary. Izuku feels himself flush self consciously, eyes flicking away from her gaze.

“You must have had a hard time of it younger, children can be so cruel” Her hand gently traced the edge of a scar on his palm.

“Remember, it is not bad to be this way. Simply keep your wits about you, and don't let your own habits consume you” She petted his hand reassuringly “Your doubts lead if you allow them to, similarly your wants. It is a balancing act you must hold firm on young man”

Her words seemed to draw Izuku in, something about them resonating within his soul. As if they spoke to a part of him buried where he thought things had died. She leaned back, letting go of his hand.

“But I sense you soon will find someone to help you with that.” Her voice danced knowingly, eyes no longer looking at him but focused over his shoulder.

“Problem Child” A gruff voice huffed.

Izuku almost jumped in his seat, head whipping round to see Aizawa-Sensei staring down at him with exasperation. When the man had gotten there, Izuku could not say. Looking at his expression clued him in though.

“A-Aizawa Sensei! I completely lost track of time! I’m sorry, was everyone waiting long?” Izuku fumbled, shooting up out of his chair and nearly tipping it over, had Aizawa not reached over to steady it reflexively.

“Never mind that, its time to leave. I hope you’re wrapping things up here, hmmm?” The man raised a brow.

“I, uhm- Yes?” Izuku turned to the lady, bowing quickly “Even though I don’t really get it, thank you for your time” he rushed out, thoughts feeling scrambled at the sudden reminder of the hour.

“Thank me by being a better pro than the previous ones, no offence Scruffy” She snorted, shaking her head.

“None taken.” Aizawa-Sensei sighed.

“Hmmm. A smart one then.” She grinned, “Here.” hand reaching over to the stones on display, she plucked two from the pile.

“Give me both of your hands” She huffed, fist held up in their direction.

Izuku glanced at Aizawa who grudgingly held his palm out. In a bid to speed things up, the man nudged the boy to do the same, who rushed to present a palm as well. To which the lady deposited a stone each in them.

“A gift of good luck, we need good hero’s like you sticking around after all.” Was her only explanation, before she turned away in clear dismissal.

Izuku curled his fingers around the rock, slipping the fist into his pocket. Diligently trotting after Aizawa Sensei who had already turned to make his way back to the others. As they pushed through the crowd, Izuku failed to notice the way his right hand seemed to tingle, growing momentarily warm with the stone in hand.

——————————————————————————————————

Wonder what will happen 👀

I might post some of the art I’ve made later, not sure yet since its more of a wip and not complete (story of my life)

You can tell I have a habit of turning characters into animals, I just love the idea of them in a different form :D

[my-sibling-wears-a-muumuu]

Get Up and Go!!

Yet another fic before my kobra vs car fic, anyways, peach on the crash track. I chose sport bikes because that's what I always imagined and I want one. the race isn't accurate because idgaf, let me a live in a world with pcp and fast cars that all go together with a dead movie star!

"Ready?!" Scene Queen Shouted from the right sideline, flag up.

Peach leaned forward on their bike. Shoulders ahead of hips.

"Set?!" Star yelled from the left side line, flag up.

Ze lifted a foot off the ground and put it on the foot peg.

"Andddddd-!" Demi Devil started, Peach flipped down the visor to their helmet. Letting zer arms rest, hands lightly gripping the handles.

It felt like time slowed.

"GO!" Demi screamed, all flags waving downwards. Peach quickly hit the acceleration and lifted zer foot off the ground and onto the left foot peg.

The pure force from the speed, and wind hit them immediately, not letting that slow them, they tried their damnedest to go faster. And fuck did it work.

Speeding ahead of the competition, that being some kid named 'Kobra Kid', and two, maybe three others. Kobra was not far behind peach, he was basically riding their ass. As expected with their live basically on the line.

Over the old announcement system came Demi Devil's voice, "Remember my little worms! Whoever is last is my dinner tonighttt!!! And I'm gonna fucking feast."

While yes, it is true that Demi has eaten the person in last place a few times, the kid had a chance of living. But the threat still held weight. Because nothing was stopping her from eating them. Morality was lost in this hellscape.

The finish line was in sight, and at this point, Kobra and Peach were far ahead. Side by side now, and occasionally getting a little ahead of each other. Peach was sweating with adrenaline.

Demi came over the announcement system again, "Ohohoho! Looks like we might have a tie!!! Never had that happen!"

A fucking tie? What would even happen? Surely Demi has had this happen, and was just joking?

That couldn't matter now, they had to win. They wanted those shiny carbons for a Mad Gear show. Little did Peach know that was also why Kobra wanted the carbons.

Peach forced themselves further onto the bike. Something about aerodynamics. The finish line was at max 6 feet away.

They forced more throttle from the bike. Trying to put a small distance to touch the line first.

5 feet.

4 feet.

3 feet.

Their win was basically guaranteed.

2 feet.

And before they realized, they crossed the line.

"AND PEACH SPIDER IS FIRST!!!!"

Turning the bike to stop and kicking up sand put the cherry on top.

"KOBRA SECOND!!"

Ze took zer helmet off, and smiled at Kobra. His helmet was still on, and he was staring back. Peach felt.. something, they weren't entirely sure what it was. A strange likeness towards him?

-----

Everyone else had made it past the line, and they got to the prize part of the track. Peach got the carbons, but before they or Kobra could leave, they did the weird walk-jog.

"Your uh,, Kobra, right?"

He nodded, still not having had his helmet off.

"Sorry for beating you, but uh, would you like to go to a Mad Gear show with me? I mean it doesn't have to be mad ge-"

Kobra finally removed his helmet, and he was gorgeous. "Are you serious?"

Peach took a minute, "Yeah-..?"

"Like a date?"

"I suppose. You are gorgeou- hot- fuck," peach smacked their hand to their forehead.

"Your Peach Spider, right?" Kobra asked, starting to smile.

Peach nodded this time.

"Well, Peach, I'm right off of getaway mile, its a diner. You shouldn't miss it. If you really need, Dr. D or Neon Night might know where."

"So it's a date?"

"It's a date."

[arthyritis]

Hmm… random question time!! Favorite ego fic/ ego fic recs in general if you can’t decide? :D

(Can also be other fandoms if you have some you really like—!)

OHOHOHO yes I have some ego fics I can rec

Finished:

New Hero On The Block by Aquilacalvitium on ao3

I like how unique the AU is, and it’s written by a friend of mine, utilising one of their OC’s which I think is really cool! The set-up to everything is nice, and the action scenes are super well-written. Absolutely a fave and highly recommend.

Ongoing:

what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger (but it might leave emotional damage) by solaneceae on ao3

One, Two . . He’s Coming For You by graphic-hawk on wattpad

No thoughts head empty when trying to say anything purposeful about either of these right now. They’re really different of course and they’re both very good in their own ways and I foam at the mouth every time I see an update from either.

[lovedbz1]

🥺 🤡 🤲 for the fic emoji asks :]

Ohohoho!! Interesting.

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

I am a SUCKER for feeling safe in the other's arms. Especially if the person is touch-starved. So like, laying down and cuddling/ just being close and warm and safe. It gets me every time. Doesn't have to be romantic either, just the closeness is needed.

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

I'm cheating and using two examples.

In HDNMF, “Good news, less than a year, bad news, someone probably had a baby between the incident at Benedict Hall and now… It’s been 9 months give or take a week.” In LCHOW,

“Not to be rude, but she’s only 14? That’s kinda a big gap from 26. That’s 12 years difference.”

“Well, Timothy, not to be rude, but your mama was kind of a whore. And you and Mary have an 8 year age difference, 4 more years is nothing added to that.”

That shut Tim up and made Jay hold back full on laughter.

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

You're so silly, you already get so many snippets, but why not~ So for sillies, I'll give two. I have so many WIPs, might as well. 🚷-

↩️-

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!! The Ask Game

[re-jet-irony]

You know, outside a character or pairing search, I don't filter my searches on AO3. While I have seen these pedo-bait fics in the wild, it's very rare, and those were clearly trolls trying to stir people up. The site isn't rife with them. If you are finding that many of them that you think AO3 is some kind of pedo haven, then you are looking for them, and what does that say about you?

No adult needs to be writing explicit sex scenes intended to arouse about 15 yr olds.

You know teenagers write fanfic, right? And read it? I was writing about rape and suicide at 14, and there was no AO3 then. And adults write about teens because that's a memorable, turbulent time in our lives and hey guess what, being horny was part of that. And a lot of fandoms have teenage characters, and that's what people focus on, the characters.

And that's where you guys fall into the pit wrong. It's not about age, people aren't thinking about it. For example, you have an anime that's about high schoolers in fantastical situations, and the two leads are fifteen. Everyone loves pairing the two leads together, and there is smut of the two.

People writing that fic aren't going "ohohoho teenagers I'm so turned on", they are going "ohoho my favorite characters". Nobody writes about Inuyasha and Kagome fucking because they are teenagers, but because they yell each others' names enough that they might as well be.

I still can't believe there's people who believe that imaginary crime is as bad as real crime.

(yes this is about fiction. yes this is about AO3.)

Imaginary crime has Imaginary victims. Who don't exist. They're concepts. In your head.

How the hell are you supposed to punish imaginary crime, when there's no victims.

No matter what people write or draw, no matter how horrible or uncomfortable, it's still imaginary. Make-believe. Not real.

I can't believe people struggle with the concept.

~~~~

"This is not a pipe."

This is the representation of a pipe. These are pixels. The pipe doesn't exist.

~~~~

When we watch a horror movie we know the murderer didn't commit a real crime. We know murder is bad yet we know whatever happens on the screen is fake.

I don't like horror movies, so I don't watch them. I don't understand why people would enjoy realistic gore.

I also don't understand why people would like to read horrible relationships or abuse or anything disgusting. I simply don't read it.

As long as real people are not hurt by what's written or drawn on the page, I don't care. As long as it stays imaginary, I don't care.

Because if you're convinced that imaginary crime is as bad as real crime, why are you not calling the police? Or is it just a way to feel morally superior in someone's notes?

[apocalyptic-dancehall]

Claptrap!!

OHOHOHO first to the punch!

- favorite thing about them

SO MANY THINGS TO CHOOSE UHUURRHRG but if it had to be like one or two: his voice and his undying loyalty.

pre-ffs claptrap's voice is so unique, and it can get oddly soothing in a way, and it just makes me so fucking jealous and his loyalty because even though he's a scaredy-cat he's still a raider at the end of the day (also the scene where he declines shadowtrap's offer to rule the goddamned universe because he genuinely loved his 'friends' fucks so hard)

- least favorite thing about them

not easy for me to say. claptrap's got tons of flaws but they're easily either linked to his horrendous 'childhood'/his bl1 antics/his time as fragtrap. i'd go off on a limb and say that he's waaay too naïve for his own good. even then it's less of a criticism and more of the fact that it always gets him into trouble :<

- favorite line

again! hard for me to say, but i've always loved the little sounds he makes when he jumps on a gravity pad. eup! and when he tried to stand up to flynt, it felt so cool because he finally bites back! (granted he did cower because 'geddit he's a pussy'-brand bl2 humor)

and then there's the part in bl2 where claptrap says this golden line: "You killed my friends! You destroyed my product line! I am the last CL4P-TP in existence, and I am going to TEABAG YOUR COOOOORPSE!" // absolute king shit

and when he calls everyone out for being an ASSHOLE to him in the pre-sequel, it's such a good moment in an already awesome dlc!

all in all claptrap has so many good quotes hhh

- brotp

a lot. gaige and claptrap are arguably at the top of that list, and i can never see them as anything more than friends/besties. angel and clap are a close second tho! also thanks to you the bl3 vhs are somewhere on the list hehe

- otp

uh.. 👉👈 obviously not a whole lot considering that most of the universe hates his guts lmao but traplicity/felicitrap/(insert felicity x claptrap ship name here) would've been SO COOL had jack not been a little greedy bitch baby and kill her off.. :(

not my only one but definitely a topper

- notp

jack. and claptrap. obvious reasonings aside i read this one fic of the two on ff.net and never recovered. took 999999 psychic damage. angel and claptrap, again, obvious reasonings 2: electric boogaloo. shadowtrap and claptrap for.. well duh. (they're bros to me and it'd feel weird.)

okay i feel like explaining the first notp a little more because it irks me to death. jack and claptrap have a kinda parent-child relationship. jack also canonically abused the shit out of claptrap which is double icky. it wouldn't be out of place that they'd have the most lopsided, shittiest relationship because jack's not only claptrap's employer, but also he generally has more power over him in general because he's hyperion property and uhm.. yeah. ew.

- random headcanon

1. he's like a little magpie. he collects the shiny™ and hoards 'em in his room. chances are he might actually have something of use there

2. by bl3 his voicebox is fucked, and rarely come the times where he tries to say stuff it comes out all staticky and shit. and sometimes it peaks and uh.. becomes 10 leagues beyond unbearable.

3. also bl3, he stops taking a lot of shit. like he'd still cower and stuff but whenever some rando talks shit about him he'd fight back (verbally. i think he'd rarely ever get into legitimate scuffles esp bc he's not a fragtrap anymore) and it kinda works-ish.

- unpopular opinion

i don't got much because the most i've got is a: claptrap should've gotten a much more significant role in 3, and b: i think claptrap recovering more of his old combat data, which also leads up to shadowtrap's possible return should be a thing. no way in hell they're gonna forget about this one essential part of cv and tp-s!

- song i associate with them

considering my taste in songs is otherwise shit and/or vocaloid: amygdala's rag doll - ghost (we've talked about this hehhe) or world's end dancehall - wowaka (which honestly isn't as fitting but imo it's kinda in-line with him. // also it's got themes of suicide in the lyrics so you might wanna avoid it if that stuff bothers ya) (i make up imaginary amvs with him and shadowtrap it's so fun)

- favorite picture of them

this screenie of claptrap with his cord-tail-thing in the bl1 main menu

i kinda like that it just randomly pops out when he sneezes

[thefactsofthematter]

break up sprace!

ohohoho it’s time! this ask has been in my inbox for like a year, but i went digging for inspiration, and here we are. 

here’s an ao3 link if that’s your style, but this one’s pretty short, so the full fic is under the cut here. it’s about 3k words, modern au, and heavily inspired by a certain song by miss taylor swift ;) swifties let me know if you pick up what it is!

tw: breakup (obviously, given the prompt), and a short scene that depicts a manic episode and psychosis - not things i’ve ever experienced, so they’re not explored in too much detail, but they are part of the plot here. a character has schizoaffective disorder and i’ve tried to write it as truthfully and respectfully as possible.

all that being said, please enjoy!!!

- 

Anthony Higgins isn't sure why he came to the train station.

He's not going anywhere just yet, and he and Sean aren't technically together anymore, so it's weird that he's here. It would have been weirder, he thinks, to have said goodbye at the hotel, or to have gone to bed and let Sean sneak out silently. Coming along here was the least he could do, after singlehandedly ruining the trip.

"At least it'll be quiet," he offers, finally cutting through the awkward silence in their little corner of the platform. "It was so busy on the way here. Seems like the night train will be emptier. That might be nice."

Sean shrugs. His breath is visible in the cold, midnight air.

"I guess. I'm not sure which is worse, honestly— being caught up in a crowd, or surrounded by people trying to sleep. Both are, like... isolating, y'know?"

Anthony nods. If Sean had much of a way with words, it might be poetic. He doesn't, though, so it's just as perfectly blunt as ever. That's what Anthony loved about him at first— his incessant ability to say things exactly as he sees them.

The silence returns, both of them looking up at the clock at the same time to see that the train should be here any minute. Sean will leave, Anthony will stick around a few more days— he's here for work, collaborating with some PhD researchers from a different university, but Sean had surprised him by getting the time off to come along and make a little holiday out of it. What a lovely time they've ended up having.

"I'm sorry," Anthony finds himself saying, after a moment. When the train comes, they'll truly be over, and he'll lose his chance to say anything. "I really, really am. I'll miss you so much."

Sean just nods. Maybe he's thinking of something to say, or maybe he's run out of words somehow, but they're pressed for time so Anthony barrels on.

"You'll find someone who can love you the way you deserve, and you'll be so much happier. I-"

"Stop." Sean cuts him off. He sighs and pinches-slash-rubs the bridge of his nose, in that way that he does when he's stressed. "I'm gonna hear enough of that from everyone at home. Just... just leave it, okay? We didn't work out. That's fine. You don't have to pacify me."

Anthony swallows whatever else he was going to say.

"Okay. I'm sorry."

Sean takes a deep breath.

"Maybe you should just go. You have work in the morning. You don't have to wait with me."

It's a gentle rejection, but it hurts nonetheless.

He supposes it can't hurt nearly as much as how he'd rejected Sean hours earlier tonight: after his big romantic speech, down on one knee, Anthony had simply stared at him with no idea how to say no to that big, life-changing question. His silence had spoken for itself, and one knee had turned to two, with Sean literally begging him to think about the wonderful life they could make for themselves together, and how marriage wouldn't even have to change that much about their relationship but it would be so special to him as a milestone, and—

Anthony had been planning to break up with him already, and their very different ideas of what they wanted their future to look like had cemented it. If they were to live out Sean's dream of settling down away from the city and eventually adopting kids, Anthony wouldn't be happy. If they kept living life at Anthony's pace— fast, hectic, and always one commitment too busy— Sean wouldn't be happy. There was no way to square that circle without someone getting hurt, and with their thirties slowly and steadily encroaching on them, it was time to call it quits.

He'd slowly shaken his head, unable to find words, and he's quite sure he'd watched the very moment Sean's heart shattered— as if it was made of glass, and Anthony had so carelessly dropped it.

They were in a park, going for a walk after having an early dinner, and there were a few people around, watching from a distance. It was humiliating, knowing he probably looked like a downright villain, being so cold as to turn down the sweetest declaration of love. If he would've said yes, there probably would've been applause— maybe the curious onlooker working at the ice cream stand would've even given them a congratulatory treat. They'd be celebrating right now, not waiting here for the train that Sean had booked as soon as they got back to the hotel, grabbing a last-minute ticket to get home (and away from his not-fiancé) as quickly as possible.

As much as this hurts right now, Anthony sincerely hopes he's saved them both some pain in the long run. A failed marriage would end up far more complicated and difficult than a failed proposal, so it's better that they ended things before they got in too deep.

"You're right," he sighs. "I'll go. Have a safe trip home, okay?"

Sean smiles, and it might be a little forced, but he's not one to fake his emotions. He tells it like it is, so he really must be feeling the bittersweetness of all this. They might not be staying in a relationship, but they'll still care about each other as time goes on. They're thoroughly intertwined in each other's lives, after seven years of dating and a wonderful friendship established before that, and there's enough understanding between them that they'll probably still be friends for a very long time.

"I'll try." He pauses, and they both look down the tracks as the train becomes audible. It must be close. "Take care of yourself, Racer."

Anthony had been pretty confident he wasn't going to cry tonight, but that old nickname is enough to get a lump to form in his throat. Sean is one of the only people who still uses it, the ridiculous name he'd gone by in college.

There's a million reasons Anthony hates being called by his first name— Sean knows them all at this point— and he hates it even more when it's shortened to Tony, or worse, Ant. He goes by his middle name, Elliot, at work these days, and he's fine with colleagues calling him Eli, but he's not sure if it truly fits. The stupid college nickname is the only one that feels like coming home, like he really does know who he is, and the fact that Sean gave it to him is a big part of that.

He's got nothing more to say, so he smiles back at Sean, waves curtly, and leaves. He hears the train pull up behind him, but he doesn't look back.

Maybe he'll go crack the fancy bottle of Dom Perignon champagne that's sitting uselessly in their hotel room—meant to be popped in celebration, a preemptive engagement gift from Sean's siblings— and drink his problems away.

-

"Apparently this building used to be an asylum. Spooky."

Spot has stopped to read a sign as they carry boxes into Race's new dorm— graduate housing at a new school, for him to start working on his master's degree in just a few days.

"Fitting," Race chuckles, with a roll of his eyes. "It must be made for me, then."

Spot laughs at that, loud and bright, like he hadn't been expecting the dryly-delivered joke. It's a fresh wound of sorts, Race's stint as a psychiatric inpatient less than a year ago, but one they're both able to laugh about now. One of the best ways Race has found to keep pushing forward is to avoid taking himself too seriously— it's easier to joke about things like this than it is to dwell on them.

"Do you think your roommate will be here yet?" Spot asks, done with the sign and continuing down the hallway.

"Maybe." Race pauses. "I think I'll introduce myself as Elliot. You're sure it's not weird to just start using my middle name all of a sudden?"

"Lots of people do it," Spot replies. "You've got a middle name for a reason, so if you like it better, why not use it? And besides, you're starting a new chapter with new people, so this is the best time to make the switch. If you realize you don't like it, we can brainstorm something else."

He's going to miss Spot's constant reassuring presence— though he'll only be a little over an hour away, going to nursing school in another city. He had a big moment of realization after finishing his finance degree last year, that while the world of business and office jobs and stocks was somewhere he'd probably thrive professionally, he didn't actually have any passion for it. He was terrified of getting trapped in a job that made him dread going to work, so he finally took the leap of faith to follow the part of him that loves helping people more than anything. He's going to be an amazing nurse, Race can already tell.

"Elliot," Race repeats to himself, feeling how it rolls off his tongue, and finding himself wearing a tentative smile. "I think it'll work."

"Do you want me to start calling you that too?" Spot asks. They stop outside the door with Race's room number on it. "It'll take some getting used to, but I can do it. Do you like Eli for short at all?"

Race shrugs, balancing a box of clothes on his hip while fishing in his pocket for his key card.

"I think Eli would be alright, but I don't mind you calling me Race. It was a college nickname, and we met in college, so that makes sense." He pauses, finally unlocking the door to reveal the empty room. "I guess I'm still technically in college now, but you know what I mean. Grad school is its own thing."

They walk in and set the boxes down on one of the beds— Race claims the left side of the room, as the first one here.

"I get it. I think I'll start just being Sean at school. I like going by Spot, but only with you and my family."

"You used to hate it," Race teases. "What changed?"

Spot, in all of his sappiness, takes a couple steps closer to wrap his arms around Race's waist, slipping under the fabric of the unbuttoned flannel overshirt that almost definitely belongs to him. Race, while taller, is much slighter than Spot, so the way they carry their weight so differently evens out and they can usually fit into each other's shirts just fine.

"You. I didn't like it much when Jack started calling me it, because he was picking on me for my freckles, but you thought it was cute, and it was always so sweet when you were saying it. It grew on me."

He rests his head on Race's chest for a moment, while Race hugs him back and squeezes tight.

"Jack's just mean," he chuckles. They both know Jack can be a lot, especially when he's teasing Spot in the way that all big brothers do, but he's always got good intentions and never pushes too far. If Spot had really been hurt by the nickname, he would've given it up immediately. "I love all your little spots. You're so pretty."

Spot hums contently.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

-

Race's first manic episode happens in the last semester of his senior year of undergrad.

He's working on an honours thesis, trying to get his physics research published, so at first the sudden burst of energy just feels helpful. He sleeps less, eats less, works harder, and finds himself in a better mood than usual. His friends notice, say he seems less stressed out, offer to go out more in the evenings, and he always says yes. For several weeks, he spends, drinks, and parties more than he should, but he justifies it with the thought that he's almost out of college, so he needs to live now at risk of growing old and boring.

One night, he pops a molly and a xan, does a line or two of coke off a bathroom counter in some random nightclub, and ends up stumbling home to Spot, who has apparently been calling him for hours. It's a Tuesday, and he's got class in the morning. He's got homework due. Race wants to have sex, but Spot turns him down, and Race ends up so angry that he storms out and goes to the 24-hour campus library to finish his homework, still drunk and high. He doesn't sleep until the next night, and at some point in the day in between, he spends a hundred and eighty dollars on a fancy cologne as an apology gift for Spot (which he forgets to give him) and plans for a weekend trip to Florida because he's got the urge to go to the beach.

In the morning, Spot finds him on the floor of the shower, screaming and scratching his legs raw because he's sure there's bugs crawling on him, under his skin.

"They're eating me," he gasps, while Spot tries desperately to hold him still and calm him down. "I have to get them out! Don't fucking touch me, they'll get all over you too!"

"Okay. Help is coming, Racer," Spot breathes, panicked but somehow holding it together. "I called an ambulance. They're gonna come deal with the bugs for you, okay? You're gonna be alright, but you have to stop scratching. You're making yourself bleed."

Obviously, the ambulance isn't coming for the bugs— it's coming because Race is hallucinating so intensely that he's self-harming and losing touch with reality— but he doesn't know that in the moment. He genuinely believes he's being eaten alive.

"No!" Spot is holding his hands together, and Race squirms desperately to get away. He needs to get the bugs out from under his skin before they climb up his body and start eating his brain. He kicks his legs and strains against Spot's grip. "Get off of me! Get off! You're trying to kill me!"

The official diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder comes about a week later, after he's been forced into a psych ward. It's the nasty intersection of bipolar disorder and schizophrenia, which is why his manic episode built up into full-blown psychosis. Despite how intense the last few weeks have felt, his case is ruled fairly mild, and he's told that some mood stabilizers and antipsychotics should help him live a normal life. It's probably always been part of his brain, but the stress of this final semester was enough to trigger it into action.

The first time Spot is allowed to visit, Race hugs him and cries the whole time, apologizing for how awful he's been acting lately, while Spot apologizes for not noticing sooner that something was wrong. They both insist that the other doesn't need to be sorry, and come to the conclusion that all is forgiven.

"I'll see you soon," Spot says, when it's time for him to go. "Come home to me when you're ready. It's no rush. Focus on getting better."

And in that moment, Race realizes that after a year or so of dating, Spot has become his home. It feels good.

-

"...and this is my little brother, Spot! He's a freshman."

Jack gestures to the kid sitting across from him at their table in the library. Anthony had been looking for somewhere to study, noticed his roommate from last year sitting with some unfamiliar guy and a free seat right next to him, so he's opted to sit down and make a new friend.

"Spot? Is that really your name?"

The guy rolls his eyes.

"It's Sean. Jack's got this whole thing about nicknames. It's ridiculous."

"I think it's cute," Anthony offers. "Because of the freckles— that's really sweet."

Spot cracks a smile at that.

"You think so?"

"Yeah. Honestly, I kinda hate my name. I could get into a nickname, but it'd be corny to give myself one, so I'm waiting for something organic to come up that I can stick with."

"I'll brainstorm on my way to class," Jack cuts in, standing up. "I actually have to go right now, but I think you two will get along great. Don't have too much fun without me."

He's gone in a flash, and Anthony and Spot both laugh at his abrupt exit. This floor of the library is more of a student commons, always loud and busy, so they don't have to try to keep quiet.

"He's always on the move, isn't he?" Spot chuckles.

"I'm even worse," Anthony replies. "We were the best roommates ever last year because we were just never in our room— I'm a physics major, and I'm on the track team, so I'm basically running all over campus all day between classes, labs, and practice."

Spot looks at him for a moment, with an almost mischievous glint in his eye, and then cracks a grin.

"Racetrack. There's a nickname— since you're always running."

Anthony laughs.

"That's ridiculous and it barely makes sense, but I kind of love it. Anything's better than fucking Tony. It makes me feel like I should be running an Italian deli, or on the fucking Sopranos or something."

"I'll call you Racer for short. It sounds like a superhero name."

"Damn, we just met and I've already got a nickname for a nickname? I have a feeling we're gonna be good friends, Spotty."

"Me too, Racer. Wanna ditch the homework and go get coffee or something?"

"Absolutely. Lead the way."

-

He sits on the hotel room bed, alone. It feels so big it might just swallow him into the blankets. He's not sure he'd mind if it did.

Sean is probably most of the way back to New York by now. It's not that far from Philly— it's especially quick by rail, which is why Race is out here to work with his colleagues at UPenn so often. If he didn't have such a love for the pure chaos that is Manhattan, maybe he'd move here eventually.

He rubs his hands over his face. He might've just made the greatest mistake of his life. Maybe he could've been happy with married life— maybe settling down would be good for him, help him somehow.

He still wouldn't be able to make Sean fully happy, though, even if he did find himself content with their marriage. No adoption agency is going to give a child to someone with a history of violent psychotic episodes— he's only had two in the course of his whole life, but they're on his medical record, which he knows would be checked, and the slim but ever-present chance of another one arising someday is enough to disqualify him from ever getting to be a parent. He loses touch with reality, he hurts the people he loves, and it's not safe to put a child at risk.

He knows Sean would tell him it's okay, that he'd take the heartbreak and put it away somewhere that no one would see it, but it wouldn't be fair to him. Being a father is one of his biggest dreams, and marrying Anthony would rip that away. Love isn't fair, it seems.

He takes a deep, shaky breath. His therapist has always told him that focusing on his inhales and exhales is the best thing to do when the world feels out of control.

He loves Sean enough to let him go. That's what this is. There'll never be a day that Anthony and Sean— Race and Spot— don't love each other in some capacity. They'd talked about that earlier, while Sean was booking his ticket home.

They'll be okay. They just weren't meant to be. That's alright. Not everyone is.

[wishing4nuclearwinter]

For the alternate love interest- Sol and Isaac perhaps?

Sorry this took me so long to get to 😭 I saw it in my inbox and was like “ohohoho YES” but also realized that I didn’t have a super strong grasp on Isaac’s character so I wanted to read a few of his fics first. I have done so and am now ready to report back shfjsjfjs

The Isaac/Sol potential is definitely there 👀 Sol has a very hard time opening up and being vulnerable, but he is very attuned to finding other people who have Been Through Shit and will seek them out. He’d find Isaac endearing and would appreciate that they share very similar views.

Honestly, reading through some of his fics i’m like yooo great minds think alike. Sol’s unpublished fics have a few scenes that are pretty similar to some of yours, which is neat. It’s really important for Sol that he’s understood by the people he’s close to and I think Isaac could possibly relate to some of his stuff. Especially with the reading difficulties and dealing with people’s assumptions about them. Sol feels very isolated in that regard and would love to find someone who gets it

All of that being said, there are a few things that would perhaps cause problems between them but alas. Spoilers™️. Sol would like Isaac and they would hit it off really well I think, but Isaac might have some misgivings about him sjfjsjfjs

[chanelpirate]

19, 20, 25 please!!

19. Is there something you always find yourself repeating in your writing? (favourite verb, something you describe ‘too often’, trope you can’t get enough of?)

Aged/immortal/ageless/eldritch/etc aristocrat schemes/fails at scheming while struggling between duty/objectives and Their Feelings/Ignoring Said Feelings while slinking about their domain/palace/etc in sad/horny/yet always stylish dishevelment. From this conflict a story (or ‘story’) arises. Never gets old. Much like said protagonist. (=which, I will remind, doesn’t mean ‘goodie’!)

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

—insert obscure image from Ancient Greek plays! —insert obscure reference to Shakespeare! —insert obscure reference to obscure historical event! —have I yelled about German Expressionism lately? —insert obscure reference to modernist poetry! —Insert obscure reference to 16th century Holy Roman Empire realpolitik that I read in a primary source once and thought, damn that was shady, wonder if that was in reference to—my entire fic Renaissance is this. Literally the whole thing. I’d thought about updating it with another chapter just deconstructing all the early 17th century shit-talking, because I really didn’t give the reader much. (it being an ‘outsider glimpse’ sort of situation) It might be good to do, early 17th shit-talking was marvellous, it was a ridiculous time politically. Not that I was ever there! Haha. Imagine!

Anyway, I’m not super in touch with what I have/haven’t written/actually published as fic, but a couple of mainstays do come to mind: every time I make some wry insinuation at how Alexander got all that shit funded, I am absolutely insinuating that Frederick the Great was Alexander’s sugardaddy. That absolutely would have happened were Alexander a real person, oh my god. But Chanel! I hear you declaim! He’s a real ancestor of real people who are really alive today! Oh babes, look up who they’ve supported historically and what parties current members of that family have hitched their horses to. (The 'friendliest' 20th century name I can comfortably put here is Franco. Yeah.) I don’t give a good goddamn if insinuating an 18th century member of that dynasty (who incidentally, was probably the most progressive of that lot since, and he lived 250 years ago) shagged a fictional disaster eldritch monstrosity in a way that was maybe a bit transactional is ‘disrespectful’. You know what’s really disrespectful? Supporting the fash and far-right n*tionalist movements xoxo

I would say I have a fic for this but it’s been stuck at 80% done for about 18 months and my fic to-do list is the real eldritch horror

Also, I can’t even think about the alchemist ménage à trois (Alexander/Agrippa/Weyer) without my brain screaming ‘John the Baptist! Salomé! Strauss! Siri play Dance of the Seven Veils! Alexander snog a decapitated head!'

25. What part of writing is the most fun?

The attention hahaha fml

That moment when the coin drops and the tiny thing that makes a story make internal sense clicks into place. This can take longer than one might expect. After that, everything becomes a gleeful race to the finish where I constantly go ahaha! but you know what would be REALLY fucked up!! ohohoho, but you know what would be even FUNNIER!

I don't know, I just like that whatever I write that doesn't have to have commercial considerations can come from a place of unhinged joy, even (especially?) when the subject matter is dark.

[loungelizardatwar]

Even 58-year old time travelling asassins deserve hugs

Here’s another fic with Ticklish!Five because I’m in love with one (1) feral gremlin asassin boy and I want him to be happy. Anyways I hope you enjoy! Also I may not have proofread this well enough because i’m embarrassed so if you see any errors let me know lol

It was times like these when Five really missed Delores. He was drunk as shit on the couch at Elliot’s, clutching the bottle in his small hands with a miserable look on his face. He still couldn’t believe that the fucking world was going to end again because of them.

Five thought about trying to find the department store before, but he found out that the building hadn’t even been built yet. So his lovely Delores didn’t exist in this timeline. He sighed, taking another swig of liquor with a grimace.

Elliot was sitting in a chair nearby, watching the man in a child’s body with a leery yet sympathetic look. He didn’t trust him fully yet but he felt bad seeing him look so miserable. He had no idea what Five had been through so he couldn’t really offer him any help.

Five was lonely, and deep down he really just wanted someone to hug him. But his pride kept him from telling his siblings that. He was a highly trained assassin, not to mention he was 58 years and 14 fucking days old and he figured that murderous old men like him didn’t deserve hugs.

Somewhere in his mind he had hoped that at least one of his siblings would have been happy to see him again. Instead they all blamed him for stranding them even though he was just trying to save their lives. He remembered how Vanya and Allison had hugged, even though Vanya had amnesia and didn’t even remember her. It made his heart ache. He wished that he shared the bond that the rest of them had.

Five slumped against the couch, taking in shaky breaths as he tried to steady himself. He missed his family every single day for those 45 years in the apocalypse and he spent all that time trying to get back to them. Now that he found them again they were all angry because of him. Because I failed them. He took another long sip from the bottle, feeling angry tears prick at his eyes.

���Hey Five, are you okay?” Came a familiar voice.

Shit. It was Klaus. He must have snuck in while Five was lost in his thoughts.

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Why do you even care?” Five sniffed and wiped his eyes, trying to play it off casually.

Five deflated at the concerned look Klaus gave him, and he sighed as Klaus sat next to him on the couch. He could tell that his brother could see right through him.

“Why wouldn’t I care? Tell me what’s going on in that crazy head of yours, old man.” Klaus put a hand on his shoulder and Five tensed up.

“First of all, don’t call me that an’ don’t touch me.” Five slurred slightly, taking another large sip of alcohol. He swatted his brother’s hand away.

“Okay, fiiiiine. You must have had a really shitty day.”

Five scoffed. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

Klaus fixed Five with a look that he couldn’t quite read, and he was curious about what he was about to say.

“I might be able to help you relax, if you’ll trust me.” Klaus said with a twinkle in his eyes. He couldn’t help the little smirk that took over his features.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the bubble of curiosity Five felt in his belly, or the fact that he really did miss Klaus and his antics. Whatever it was, something made him feel like he could trust Klaus to cheer him up.

“Fine. Do whatever you think will help. But I’m not responsible for your injuries.” Five put the bottle down on the floor next to the couch, crossing his arms and looking at Klaus with a pout.

“That’s all I needed to hear!” Klaus grinned at the sight of his 58 year old brother pouting like the petulant child that he looked like. He started poking at Five’s sides, delighting in the startled squeaks he got.

“H-hey! What the fuck! Dohohon’t do thahahat!” Five hissed, swatting at his brother’s hands. He wasn’t really surprised at that Klaus would choose such a childish method to cheer him up. Five acted like it annoyed him, but deep down he knew that he probably did need to lighten up at least a bit.

“Awww, but Five! You’ll feel better if you let yourself laugh. I’ll stop though, if you really want...” Klaus went to move away, and Five panicked.

“Wait!” Five all but shouted, sounding more desperate than he meant to. He suddenly found himself blushing for the first time in years. He didn’t want to ruin this playful moment with Klaus.

“I mean, it’s okay. I trust you Klaus. You can keep going.” Five sighed and smoothed back his hair, a nervous habit he picked up over the years to self-soothe.

Klaus instantly lit up, not expecting this reaction from Five. He figured that his brother would probably tell him to fuck off and blink away, but he was very intrigued to see him blush for the first time he could remember. It was a cute look on his childish face.

“Oh really?” Klaus cocked his head to one side in fascination. “This is great! Thanks, Fivey!” He grinned and clapped, letting out a giddy giggle,

“Ohohoho shihihihit! Heheheheh!!” Five squeaked, falling into helpless giggles. He curled into himself, making Klaus smile at how child-like he really looked when he laughed. Meanwhile the alcohol was making Five feel weightless and warm, and he had to admit that he already felt a little happier. But he couldn’t stand the delighted way his brother grinned down at him. It made Five want to die of embarrassment and strangle Klaus at the same time.

“Are my eyes and ears deceiving me or are you actually enjoying this~?” Klaus teased, suddenly snatching up one of Five’s hands in his own and using his other to lightly tickle Five’s palm. Klaus knew that it was one of his brother’s death spots.

“Sh-shuhuhuhut up! ’m not- fahahack! Klaus, NOO! HAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEHEASE! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHERE!” Five screamed and cackled, frantically flailing and trying to pull his arm away.

Thanks to Five’s powers, his palms and wrists were incredibly hypersensitive. On a scale from 1 to 10 they were easily a 13, where as his knees were more of an 11. In other words, it tickled so much that Five wanted to crawl right out of his skin.

Klaus laughed, letting go of Five’s hand. He couldn’t believe that a highly trained assassin such as Five could be rendered to begging just from the lightest touches on his hands. Klaus hoped that none of their enemies found this weakness or Five would be screwed. He snorted at the thought.

“I’ll leave your hands alone for now,” Klaus teased with a soft smile. “You feeling okay?”

“Th-thanks.” Five croaked, greedily sucking in air. He was still smiling, his dimples and blushing cheeks on full display. “I’m fine, I just..need a minute.” He closed his eyes, sighing and laying back against the couch.

“Of course, take your time.” Klaus grinned at him, ruffling Five’s hair. Usually Five would roll his eyes and push him away, but when he nuzzled into Klaus’s hand, Klaus realized with a pang of guilt that Five must be touch starved.

But how could he not be? Spending 45 years alone in an post-apocalyptic wasteland with only a mannequin to keep you company didn’t offer much room for happy, cuddly moments. But then, that wasn’t all there was to it, was there?

Klaus was struck so violently by the revelation that he visibly recoiled. Nobody has hugged Five since they were kids. It made Klaus feel sick, to imagine how that must have felt. To know that after all those years apart from his siblings, not a single one of them even missed him enough to give him a hug.

And here they all were again, reunited after they all thought they would never see each other yet again. Five had saved their asses, though he may have separated them in the process and they threw it all back in his face.

“Hey Five?”

“What?”

Five pushed himself up, resting his head on Klaus’s shoulder. He felt content in his tiredness, happy to lean on somebody other than himself for once.

“C’mere.” Klaus opened welcomed arms,

doing all that he physically could to not cry.

Klaus felt so fucking shitty for never giving any thought about what Five had done for them. But he knew that he deserved it and that he needed to be there for his drunk brother. It was the least he could do.

Five lazily opened one eye, giving Klaus a funny look. “Why?”

“Can I give you a hug?”

Five wasn’t sure how to respond, as if he was taken aback by the audacity of the question.

“You want to?” Five tried to hide the way his voice wavered as he asked. He hated feeling vulnerable like this, but his family was the only exception.

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?” Klaus almost couldn’t believe him, but he could understand where Five’s wariness came from.

Five just sighed, looking so utterly sad that Klaus could hardly bear the sight of it. He put his arm around Five’s small shoulders, and he almost couldn’t believe his ears when he heard a sniffle. Then, when Klaus felt Five’s breathing grow shaky he was right. Five was crying.

Klaus had maybe 5 seconds to register that before Five was clinging to him for dear life, crying like he had never heard before. Klaus did all he could do to hold Five, rubbing his back and trying to calm him down but the man in child form was a sobbing mess.

It wasn’t long before Luther came in, seeing the scene unfolding in front of him.

“What’s going on?” He asked, looking concerned and slightly sad on seeing number Five sobbing into Klaus’s chest.

“I-I don’t know! All I did was ask Five if I could give him a hug and now he’s stuck to me like a sad baby koala bear...I just hope he doesn’t try to bite me.” Klaus sighed dramatically, but he didn’t really mind. He hoped that Five could tell.

“Ah, shit.” Luther sighed, awkwardly sitting next to Klaus and Five on the couch. All three of them hoped that the couch wouldn’t break, but it seemed fine despite it’s creaking. “What should we do?”

Klaus shrugged, but he was smiling like he had an idea.

“Five, buddy? Are you in there?” Klaus asked, giving a gentle poke to Five’s side.

Five twitched, still sniffling and clinging to Klaus.

“Leave m’ alone..” He croaked, sighing deeply as he tried to steady his breathing.

“Are you okay?” Both Luther and Klaus asked at the same time, wincing as they realized how they’re both such mother hens. A trait they probably picked up from Grace, bless her circuits.

A few moments passed of Five’s shaky breathing and quiet sobs, until eventually he got his bearings enough to look up at Klaus. His eyes were red and puffy underneath, and his hair was a complete mess but somehow he looked a little better. Klaus was sure that the relief of crying was probably good for Five. It just pained him so much to see it.

“Yeah, i’m okay.” Five finally said, covering his mouth with a hand as he yawned.

Klaus chuckled, and Luther gave Five a fond look. They were both so glad that he was alright.

“I bet you’re exhausted. You can nap on me if you want.” Klaus suggested, adjusting his position so they were both more comfortable on the couch.

Five hummed, considering the idea.

“Here,” Luther said, reaching to grab a small throw blanket. He tossed it over Klaus and Five, smiling a bit as he watched them get comfortable. It sure was a funny sight, seeing the usually grumpy number Five cuddle up to Klaus. But everyone knew that Five had been through the most out of all of them, and he deserved his rest.

[trashyswitch]

Stupid Tomodachi Life...

Roman and Remus are playing Tomodachi Life together, and announce some of the Sanders Sides ships that have actually become canon on their island. Then, Remus makes the mistake of revealing Mii Patton's baby's new nickname and well...You'll see.

For @kanene-yaaay.

2 Fics in one day! *claps happily* I'm really proud of myself, actually! And yes, one of these ships is a REAL THING on MY Tomodachi life game! So, I hope you enjoy some tickletober crack!

TW: Slight mentions of Adolf Hitler! If you’re triggered by the mere name, please click off and look for a new fanfic to read. I’ve got hundreds. 

This is Tickletober Day 9: Ganged Up On

Roman jumped into the room with his 3DS in his hand. “THOMAS! GUYS!” He shouted.

Virgil jumped and hid on the steps. “Roman!” he yelled angrily.

Thomas stuttered and threw his karate chop arms at him, Logan jumped and fixed his glasses, and Janus full on slapped him across the face with his hat. “What.” Janus replied, putting his hat back on.

Remus popped up next, to shout with him. “THOMAS AND LOGAN TIED THE KNOT!” Remus and Roman both shouted.

“I-Excuse me?” Logan reacted, feeling offended by the accusation.

Thomas shook his head. “No we didn’t. We’re the same person.” Thomas reminded them.

“In the game, I mean. Mii Logan and Thomas are married!” Roman mentioned.

“Oooh.” Logan replied, thankful it was just in a game.

Thomas snorted. “Logan and Thomas are married in the Sims?” Thomas asked.

“No. In Tomodachi Life.” Remus clarified.

Thomas blinked in confusion. “Wait...Tomodachi Life allows gay couples now?!” Thomas reacted.

“Well no…” Roman replied.

“We sorta...had to…” Remus continued.

“Set us all up in 2 separate genders: Male and Female.” Roman explained.

“That way, we can determine who would fall in love with who, without gender bias!” Remus declared.

Logan lifted up his index finger. “That…” Logan lowered his finger as he realized something surprising: “...Is exceptionally clever. Good job you two.” Logan complimented.

“So, female Logan and male Thomas got married!!” Roman declared happily.

Logan rolled his eyes and let a small smile show up on his lips. “Oh no. Next will be the baby in the baby carriage.” Logan reacted.

Thomas giggled and fluffed his hair, much to Logan’s unamusement. “...Really?” Logan asked, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Come on, Logan. It’s kinda cute.” Patton attempted to cheer up.

“Plus, Logan might get Pergenat!” Roman declared.

“Or Prefnat.” Remus added.

“Or Gregnant!” Roman added, looking at him.

“Or Bregant!” Remus laughed.

Or PRAGNAN!” Roman joked.

“Best misspelling in 3...2...1!” Remus ordered:

“PREGANANANT!” The twins shouted at the same time. Roman and Remus bursted out laughing at the same time as well, while Logan just walked away in disappointment.

“OH! And Patton got together with...Get this: WILLIAM AFTON!” Remus declared.

Logan’s walking skidded to a halt, before Logan turned around. “WHAT?!”

Virgil guffawed and bursted out laughing. “THE IRONY!” Virgil laughed.

“Who’s William Afton?” Patton asked.

Virgil only bursted out laughing even more, as Remus, Roman, Logan and Thomas all yelled “PURPLE GUY!” at the same time.

Patton blinked. “...Who?”

Virgil paused his laughing to start scream singing the lyrics to “It’s been so long’ by Tombstone. “THE MAN BEHIND THE SLAUUUGHTERRRRR!” Virgil scream-sang.

“The...the killer in FNAF.” Thomas explained.

Patton frowned and looked at him with sad, scared eyes. “...I’m dating a killer?” Patton asked.

Thomas giggled and patted his head. “Only in a game.” Thomas replied.

Patton let out a breath of relief. “Well, I have killed spiders before.” Patton mentioned. “So, that wouldn’t be far off.” Patton added.

Roman started watching Remus play on Tomodachi Life. “Awww! Baby Hitler is all happy this morning!” Remus declared.

Roman gasped and ripped the 3DS out of Remus’s hand. “HEY! Patton named his child after Bob Ross! You don’t have the right to nickname him Hitler!” Roman yelled.

Patton growled and full on tackled Remus to the ground. “YOU CHANGED THE BABY’S NICKNAME FROM BOB ROSS TO HITLER?!” Patton shouted. Remus was just laughing at his reaction, while everyone else was either concerned or enjoying the scene.

“Whahahat ahare yohohou gohohonna dohoho ahahabohout it?” Remus asked.

Patton smirked evilly and started squeezing Remus’s sides and hips. “NohoHOHOHO! PAHAHAHAT!” Remus shouted quickly.

Patton giggled. “I’m gonna treat you like I treat all my kids, fake or real: like the tickle monster’s prey!” Patton declared.

Patton growled evilly as he lifted up Remus’s shirt and blew a big raspberry on his belly.

“HEHEHEHEY! HAHAHAHAHAHA!” Remus screamed.

“Suffer, Remus!” Patton declared.

After drilling into Remus’s hips, Patton blew another raspberry onto Remus’s lower belly. “HAHAHAAAAA!” Remus laughed, before falling into endless cackles.

Patton giggled more and continued to raspberry him like there was no tomorrow on his sides, belly and ribs. Remus was squealing and DYING of laughter while rolling all over the place! He was like a wiggly child!

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE! IHIHIHI NEEHEHEHEEEED TO BREHEHEHEHEATHE!” Remus shouted at him.

Patton giggled and nodded as he stopped tickling him. “Here you go, Remus! Breath all you need to.” Patton replied.

Remus happily took in some oxygen and started to get over his breathing. “Do you regret naming the child after a german leader?” Patton asked.

Remus nodded his head and clicked the ‘Edit Mii option on the child. With the child ready to be edited, Remus moved to the nickname spot and changed his name.

There!” Remus replied, showing Patton the nickname. Patton smiled and said ‘thank you’ before looking at the name:

[H.H. Holmes]

Patton growled, closed his 3DS and placed it down before quickly lifting his hands up in the air and tickling his armpits.

“WaitWaiT-WAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Remus shouted, bursting out laughing once again. Patton had started attacking the right armpit, tickling down Remus’s ribs, tickling his belly and squeezing his hips before going back to his armpits to repeat the cycle.

“Are you going to stop your lollygagging and change the nickname back to Bob Ross?” Patton asked.

Remus only laughed more. “NOHOHOHOHO! NEHEHEHEVEHER!” Remus shouted back.

Patton smiled. “Awwww...that’s too bad! Looks like I’m gonna have to resume raspberrying you!” Patton declared before blowing a raspberry on Remus’s neck.

“WAHAHAHAIT! PAHAHAHATTOHOHOHON NOOOOHOHOHOHOHO!” Remus screamed.

“Ohohoho! Patton YES!” He replied. “That is, unless you change my Tomodachi baby’s nickname back to Bob Ross!” Patton offered.

“IHIHIHI-...NOHOHO! IHIHIHI’LL NEHEHEHEVEHER!” Remus shouted back.

Patton took in a big breath, and blew another neck raspberry while squeezing his right hip. Remus shrieked super loudly, and fell into silent laughter! “How about now?” Patton asked with a smirk.

Remus took advantage of the break and breathed heavily to regain his oxygen. Finally, when he was somewhat capable of it, Remus looked at Patton and spoke through his breaths. “F...Fine. You...win…*huff* I...I’ll *huff* *huff* change it...back.” Remus replied.

Patton gave him a toothy smile. “Good boy!” Patton reacted as he let him go and gave the 3DS back to him. Remus sighed as he opened the 3DS, and clicked the ‘Edit Mii’ button yet again, on the Tomodachi character. With a few quick clicks and a save button press, Remus handed the 3DS back to Patton.

Patton looked at the nickname and groaned in exhaustion:

[J. Stalin]

Patton completely gave up. “That’s it. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.” Patton replied. Finally, Patton took the 3DS from Remus and changed the name himself.

[Bob Ross]

Patton clicked the save button on the game, and shut the game off. It was finally fixed. Patton gave Roman the 3DS back, and walked away.

“You okay, Patton?” Thomas asked.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Just tired.” Patton replied.

“You think YOU’RE tired?!” Remus reacted, referencing his intense tickle attack from earlier.

“Mentally I mean, Remus. I’m mentally tired.” Patton replied.

“Oooh. Okay. Good night Patton! Have lovely dreams, my wife!” Remus teased.

Virgil and Roman bursted out laughing at this as Patton walked away from the blursed group.

It didn’t take long for more gameplay to show up, and for Roman and Remus to watch the characters interact with each other. The characters watch curiously and intently as Henry Emily confessed his love for Female Virgil. But the sides quickly expressed their disappointment as Virgil turned him down.

Meanwhile, Virgil smirked as he ate a bag of chips on his own. “Good job Virgil. You don’t need a man to make your life any more miserable.” Virgil told the character.

Roman, Remus, Thomas and Logan all slowly looked at Virgil.

“What? It’s true!” Virgil reacted.

...Let’s just say it didn’t take long for the sides to gang up on him as well...

[thelaithlyworm]

Ohohoho!!!

⭐️

Do tell me all of your fanfic thoughts! 😁😁😁

You didn't specify a fic, so...

This passage, from "Future" (Nirvana in Fire),

... Because Lin Chen can augur: through stars, coins, yarrow-stalks, and shoulder blades cracked from hot metal driven deep, through the research of the Hall he will inherit. Through his own raw cunning and the twitches in a man’s eyes. (Changsu’s unnerving ability to read people - he got that from Lin Chen in the first place, damn it.)

Lin Chen knows his father will leave, heart-sick, before this year’s work is done. The old man will disappear one night without a word and leave him with the care and feeding of a patient that (Lin Chen will later drunkenly confide, to an equally drunken princess) is to Lin Chen as an iron spike is to a fox’s paw...

was originally written for "Float", the one where Lin Chen and Mei Changsu go for a serene happy bathtime in the private hot pool.

I was... picking at some ambivalence in the situation - Lin Chen's worries and doubts about the extremely invasive surgeries he and his father are doing on MCS, the emotional toll it took on them both, causing that much pain and damage and nursing their patient through it, all tied up in an irreverent chap who never had a negative feeling he didn't repress under inappropriate humour, who is consummately, obsessively caring about MCS's well-being. Who looks like he might fly away on an errant wind instead of the consistent, if snarky devotion he displays. Who understands everything that is happening to him emotionally, while being powerless to break away from it.

But it turned out really damn bitter, in that hot pool scene, so I clipped it out (the fic was still a little bittersweet, mind) and found something with a slightly different theme for it to live in. (Cue *even more* inappropriate humour in "Future", oh my.)

[tejoxys]

From the works-in-progress meme... I am intrigued by "dat one fight" and "babysitting brigade". Tell me more!

Ohohoho yes, these are two of my favorite parts in that entire longfic, thank you. It’s going to take me 84 years to get to them naturally even if I start actively writing again, so I’ll give them extra space here.

> dat one fight

I spent a ridiculously long time on this. It’s 72KB, when all five chapters that have been posted to AO3 so far only total 110KB. 

This is far enough along in the timeline that Pitch is still incarcerated in the Whiny Baby Immortal Jail that Jack built for him, but they’ve reached an understanding and have become friendly. They express this through fighting. Also Jack is keeping Pitch alive by encouraging him to feed on his fears like a vampire. Also there’s clear mutual interest that Jack has been studiously ignoring for every reason possible. Also some shit went down the last time Jack visited Pitch, which they haven’t talked about. Also Jack’s powers keep expanding, and he’s freaking out about that. Also Jamie, now 17, is into Jack, and decided to express this one scene earlier, and Jack is freaking out about that, too. The best course of action here, obviously, is to go spend more time with Pitch (???!!).

Somehow, this results in the discovery of a kink.

This fic... had some Stuff going on in it for me, psychologically. Some of it had to do with my feelings about fandom-typical blackice dynamics, a lot of which was triggering for me (no judgment on anyone; I just couldn’t go there, and felt isolated in the fandom because of it), and some of it was even more personal. I gave a lot of my issues at the time to Jack, and this scene, more than any other, exemplified that.

Here’s where they’re getting things going so Pitch can feed.

     He slowly raised his arm to curl around Pitch’s back. Softly, hesitantly, he touched the scar he’d found.        

     Fear flared to life, sparking in his fingers and along the muscles of his arms. Jack imagined the doors in his heart opening to it, fear flowing like blood. To have such weakness presented to him, to feel the same disturbing drive to press on it that he’d felt in a different form the other day, to know the only reason he didn’t was because he held himself in check—it was awful. Hand shaking a little, Jack smoothed his palm across the fabric. Hair tickled the opposite side of his face. Pitch had gone rigid again. Without thinking about it, Jack reached his other hand up to guide Pitch’s head down to his shoulder. “It’s all right, I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m only doing this to help me focus.”    

     A sough of fingernails on the floor told Jack that Pitch had unclenched his hands. His dark head rested heavily on Jack’s shoulder. “It should grate me that you’re more frightened of yourself than you are of me,” Pitch said, “but… your fear makes a compelling argument.”

    “It does?”

    “You no longer know your own limits, in several respects at once. Your turmoil right now is only one more expression of that underlying fear.”

    “I thought I had come to terms with it,” Jack admitted. “I thought, well, hey, all I have to do is not slip up. That’s not so bad. But then…” He gulped, remembering his panic as he shouted at Pitch, You don’t understand—I almost went for your eyes!

    “Then you found that there are other ways to slip. Worse ways. What’s that phrase the kids came up with—‘accidentally-on-purpose’?” Pitch’s soft voice slid over him like a veil. “There are too many ways to hurt someone accidentally, and too many ways to make it look like an accident. If I hit a nerve during this talk—and I will—and your fears move your fingers to dig into my scar, could you claim that you didn’t mean it, that you involuntarily defended yourself? You could. But you would know better. Now, tell me it’s not the same when you’re with everybody else.”

    Jack kept his hand on the scar, rubbing slow, calming circles. “People give themselves to me,” he said softly. “The other Guardians, now that they’ve accepted me… they share things with me. They really care about me. And if I had to, I know exactly what I’d do to hurt each one of them the most. ‘If I had to.’ –What does that even mean? I don’t want to think that way. I just can’t stop.” His voice broke. “Why is this happening?”

> babysitting brigade

This is a set of scenes from an even later chapter, after Pitch has been released on probation, Jack and Jamie have dated and recently broken up, and Jack, trying to be a better person and stop leaning on Pitch for emotional support when he knows how Pitch feels about him, finally came out to the other Guardians about his relationship with Jamie. Unfortunately, instead of being a relief to Pitch, Pitch had valued being Jack’s sole confidante so much that he flipped his shit and told Jack to leave him alone indefinitely. Jack is respecting that, because he’s, again, trying to be better for Pitch. It’s extra great because Jamie doesn’t want to see Jack either, so Jack’s basically lost both his closest friends at the same time.

I should mention that one of my goals in writing this fic was to let characters mess up.

Anyway, this chapter has been published on tumblr once before! I put it up on its own as part of a blacksand week, actually, because of what starts to happen between Pitch and Sandy. It can be found here [x].

However! Tooth’s part in this chapter—actually my favorite part, there’s a really good screaming match and a panic attack in it (Pitch’s)—was cut out because it was too long for my purposes at that time. So, here’s some of that, right before it goes south.

(Note: Pitch “sees” fear almost as a form of light, kind of like sharks see electrical fields.)

    Toothiana’s smile faded into something almost genuine. “I suppose the rumors were true, then,” she said. “He actually means something to you.”

    Pitch’s mood flatlined instantly. “What do you know about it?”

    “Next to nothing! …Only what Sandy told Aster told me. Say, what’s that around your neck? Is the truce back on?”

    “Oh. No. Not you, too.” Pitch would have said more, but something about the way Toothiana kept angling her head was making him uneasy. He took a few steps back. She followed. “What are you doing?” he ventured, and he saw it. Oh no. She was trying to get a better look at his teeth.

    He clapped a hand over his mouth. “Stop it!”

    She blinked. “What? Oh! Was I..?”

    “Yes, you were!”

    “Oh. Sorry.” She hovered there, still half-smiling, and he felt her gaze like a hundred little knives, not cutting, only… crawling. “I found one of your teeth,” she said abruptly.

    The crawling sensation intensified. “Really.”

    “I, uh, took a look, and… well…”

    “How dare you?” Pitch lunged. Toothiana squeaked and zipped away, only to stop a short distance above his head. Pitch recoiled, enraged that she wasn’t even frightened enough to flee. Meanwhile, his own fear crept higher, blurring his sight. “Is nothing private from you people?”

    “I was doing my job!” she shot back, hand on her chest. “I thought you might be interested to know what’s in there!”

    “Well, I’m not!”

    “Well, you should be.”

    “Why, you meddling—”

    “What? Meddling what?” Toothiana put her hands on her hips. “First you’ll do anything to get everyone’s attention, and now that we’re all looking at you, you want us to stop? Do you think any part of this is easy? Do you think I want to be here?”

    “If it makes Jack happy,” Pitch sneered. The little flashes had begun, lighting him from the inside, and he was losing her shape in the static. She gave the tiniest flinch at his words, the tiniest thread illuminating itself.

He pulled.

[charaznablescanontoyota]

⭐️for elephant joke!! :0

ohohoho my excuse to talk about the scene with derrick and the monitor which was one of my favorite scenes to write in the entire fic

i think i’ve said this in the crabitat before but the version of the monitor that exists in my head is like WAY spookier than a lot of fan interpretations because a) it’s bigger than a person would be able to comprehend and b) it literally does not understand morals or the way human beings think. in my mind the monitor is a cosmic horror entity motivated almost entirely by hunger and fun that doesn’t really?? care?? about the players in the trench who are ostensibly its wards. it might not even NOTICE them except for vaguely feeling something when one of them goes missing, because of how small humans are relative to it

and then you have derrick who has spent like the past 11k words talking a big game about Yes All Gods and getting on the garages’ case for not sticking to what is supposed to be their whole shtick but then he meets what is nominally a “proper” god and he can’t even look it in the eye because he thinks he might lose his mind doing it. it’s like weirdly a burning bush moment that is also cosmic horror when you get the dawning sense of scale of how just the monitor’s eye is so much bigger than derrick’s entire body and how actually powerless he is in the grander scheme of things even though he is like out there getting other players killed

and then there’s the added humor layer of the monitor talking like the monitor does of course

and i think it’s neat! it was a fun scene to play with bc i think about the dynamic between the monitor and the players in the hall a lot, lmao