#there ya go

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

experiences have a really good way of worming their way into you, becoming intertwined with your very being and impacting the way you think and view the world

so. for example, neither of the stan twins like going to the doctor. but sometimes you have to, and it's an especially good idea when you're about to head out to sea for gods know how long

when ford needs something from the doctor and they dismiss him, his immediate response is to go 'okay, i'll just. not worry about it when i die in my sleep'

living with filbrick for seventeen years instilled a deep sense of 'when the authority says no, that means fucking no. shut your mouth' and when he met bill? that just made things so much worse. well, yes, this is uncomfortable for him and a lot of the stuff bill does really hurts and deep down he knows this isn't how he wants to be treated, but maybe if he plays along and pleases him, it won't hurt as much. maybe, eventually, if he's good enough, it'll stop hurting at all

it won't, and he's already good enough, but what else is he supposed to do?

later on, he was able to find the footing to stand up against his abuser, but that experience doesn't just go away. when an authority says no, he still finds it a little hard to argue against that unless his family is impacted by it

stan? he had a different response. he didn't like the way filbrick treated him, so he wasn't going to stand for it. would it get better if he played along? he doesn't know, cause he never did. he argued back and defended himself and ford. and got hurt, yes, and gained a deep fear that will never quite go away, but it's become a deeply ingrained response. it might not get better. so he's going to make it get better

sometimes it hurts people he doesn't want to hurt, he'll admit that. sometimes it hurts people and they end up in hell for thirty years

but sometimes it helps. he's found he can stand his ground better, and it helps to protect his loved ones. and it helps, when ford's gut reaction is to not fight back against the no. ford needs something, and stan is going to make damn sure he fucking gets it.

and when stan needs something, it rattles his core and makes him shake, but ford will make damn sure he gets it too

and sometimes, ford's response works out better. so, maybe, sometimes, it'll turn out better for them both if they work with it instead of push back

in this sense, the brothers help each other heal and balance out these responses. different situations call for different reactions, and sailing together has helped them navigate tight spots better

[cosmic-wonders-series]

The Lunar Oblivion

[hyperfixating-rn-brb]

"I'm going to be so productive tonight and get some work done---"

*writes out entire good omens timeline from memory for zero fucking reason*

[swordscomic]

@shingetsu-online

[copias-juicebox]

Are you ready to swear right here right now before the devil?

[mulderscully]

hey did you guys know you don't have to celebrate or be defeatist? you can be normal

[qprteetime]

I'm obsessed with the idea of Alastor and Lucifer being in a QPR but those two can't be normal about anything so instead of being in a queerplatonic relationship, they'd be in a queerplatonic RIVALRY

Idk how to explain but they'd have this immense queerplatonic tension between them that could have started as mocking politeness so they end up with like an increasingly intense angry-friendliness situation going on lmao

[inkspottie]

We know that Anzu was a hitman before her arrest, but who were the others? Ian, Jones and Brick? (I'm sorry if someone has asked this question before)

I didn’t really specify so you’re good

Ian - indecent exposure and drug dealing to minors

Jones- Money Laundering

Brick - Doctor for the Mob but fell on the sword to keep his boss safe.

[darkfictionjude]

What type of toenails do the ro’s have?

Ummm wot

As authors we don’t always think of everything single thing the character has unless it’s very relevant 😭

I didn’t even know there’s types of toenails I thought they were all the same type. I guess Imre has round nails, he cuts them regularly. Nia has square nails which she files and paints. Lorcan has very short nails like cut to where the nail meets the nail bed

[dipplinduo]

"What kind of things do you research when you write"

Me: Oh not much tbh

Me today:

[thedogeveryonehates]

Long overdue for a sefie 🍆

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

ford: do you ever think about what nonexistence is like?

stan: i...try not to. i mean, how do you even imagine something that isn't even nothing?

ford: maybe it's everything

stan: ...either way, i don't like the concept. i can handle whatever cosmic horror bullshit goes on in nonexistence, but not existing also means not hearing or seeing or feeling or knowing

ford: maybe it's more peaceful not to hear or see or feel or know

stan: it wasn't. i already had thirty years of that. i'm not okay with another second, let alone an eternity

ford: ...i don't think i find it that peaceful anymore

[dadrockconfessions]

Could you share the background pic of this confession, pretty please ���

https://www.tumblr.com/dadrockconfessions/750874413020364800?source=share

[feral-bird-enjoyer]

out of context P4 doodle dump- A lot of these are from the souyo server tbh

[writingforfishes]

The Well Runneth Dry But here's some shit anyway.

Ugh, where is my writing motivation? I must've left it somewhere. Or it's underneath something.

I'm gonna try to drabble cause I just wanna create some shit. This isn't necessarily attached to a big plot plan or timeline, just hiccupy stuff cause my brain was stupid today and I need something to be proud of doing.

CW:

self-pleasure mention (no details)

fast painful powerful hiccups (that are cured in the end)

the image of both of them squeezed into a single person recliner getting themselves off

recliner abuse

hiccups from coffee

Otto is a puppy, honestly

Probably typos and shit

Not literal shit, rather

Wrong kink for that

Atticus feeling guilty about Otto's really bad hiccups

Otto being in pain but also really wanting Atticus to get off in front of him

Sickeningly adorable I hate them

"My eyes are up here"

Hopefully readable dialogue despite the enthusiastic onomatopoeia

Going to bed now but glad I wrote SOMETHING

---

Hup!-hup!-hup!-huh!-hmk!-hm!-uck!

They were fast this morning. Rather than coming in clusters, they were just consistently rapid. Otto had just started hiccuping from his morning coffee after several weeks without a peep from his diaphragm.

The clock maker had sat in the old recliner in the living room beside the couch. His coffee was on the side table beside him as he hiccuped in the chair, the back jolting every second with the force the hiccups threw his upper body.

He was able to breath in between them, but not fully. They would pause for a few seconds but as soon as he'd taken a full breath they would charge forward again.

Huuck!-Huup!-hup!-mmmp!-mmmpk!-MMK!-MK!-Hu'uck!

They were getting deeper, too. Stronger. He considered seeing if a shot of apple cider vinegar would help, but he found himself getting a little turned on by the possibility of Atticus coming down the stairs or, perhaps, he could video them.

A yawn took him over suddenly and he covered mouth lazily when a hard, painful HA-AAAWK! burst forth.

"Ow HU'UCK!" he mumbled as he rubbed his chest. Maybe he did need to cure these things, he thought.

But then a creaking weight shifted from upstairs. He kept his mouth open to let the hiccups' sounds carry. He chuckled with the thought that this was like a mating call of sorts. Except without the literalness of mating...or sex as seen by the majority of society, come to think of it.

The creaking and shifting continued, increasing, as Otto faced the stairs in anticipation, hiccups gathering an even more insistence and power.

HU'uck!-hup!hup!-huh!-huh!-huh!-HU'uck!-HU'uck!-HU'UCK!-HUUCK!

Feet pitter pattered down the stairs with a quickness that Otto might be imagining, but Atticus' wild hair and wide eyes staring wordlessly at their husband's jolting body as hiccup after hiccup burst from him made him pretty certain there had been a franticness to get down the stairs.

The writer breathed out slowly.

"Those are really fast," they finally said eyes fixated on the pudge of Otto's stomach in his reclined position shove and pop out, jiggling madly in the white undershirt he wore.

Despite Otto's discomfort from his hiccups, he lifted his shirt a little so his navel was exposed.

"My HUCK! ey-HIC!-es are HU'UP! u-HU'UP!-up he-IP!-re," he said, struggling through the onslaught.

Atticus laughed too loudly at the suddenness and unexpectedness of the joke that had them feeling a hot flush on the back of their neck.

Otto smiled, but Atticus couldn't help but notice the flicker of discomfort in his eyes every time a hiccup shook him. And they were shaking him quite a bit.

"Are...are you okay? Do they hurt?" Atticus asked. They were still standing in front of him.

"A HI'UP! li-IP!-liIP!-ittle. Bu-HU'UUP!-t I HUP! I UP! want t-HNK!-to wat-NNGK!-ch you re-HU'UCK!-react," Otto said.

"You sure?" they asked.

"Ga-HUUUCK!HUP!-uh! Gawd ye-HUUCK! yes!" he said.

Those deep long hiccups made Atticus twitch involuntarily as they watched the tendons in his neck be revealed by how deeply his throat sucked in each time.

"Wuf! Nng...okay. Okay. Yeah," Atty stuttered, squirming. "But if they're still this bad after we're done, we are definitely curing them. Gawd, but they're so fucking hot. You're so fucking hot, man!"

They both mutually pleasured themselves when Atticus squeezed into the recliner beside him. The chair whined quietly as they both added weight and movement to it. The sounds the couple emitted seemed primal as they climaxed, grunts and moans among the violent hiccups.

At their climaxes both Otto and Atticus went limp, panting. After a moment Atticus became more aware of the present and noticed Otto still had the hiccups. Though they didn't seem as deep, they were still coming at a decent clip. The higher octave was indicative that they were probably still a pretty rough ride, as well.

HUP!-HUP!-HU'UP!...UP!...MMP!-HUP!-ILP!-HILP!

"Cure?" Atticus asked, heavy eyelids lifting as their own body jostled in time with his as they were squeezed next to him in the chair.

A flitting face of pain turned to them, wincing with every spasm. Otto sighed tiredly and held a hand over his chest as the hiccups kept thumping inside his ribs and tugging at the intercostal muscles of his back and sides. His sternum was starting to get sore, and his stomach muscles ached a little with each jostle.

He gave his spouse a little nod.

Pushing back his curly hair from his forehead he pushed the footrest down into the chair and both he and Atticus unwedged themselves from the seat never meant to hold two full-grown adults with a humorous stumble.

"How long have you had them?" Atticus asked, trailing behind his twitching back. They put a soft hand to his lower back and gave it a rub for all of the hard work it was putting in.

"Not HU'UP!-uh long. Just HUP!HUP! oh! a UP!-uh! a min-NP!-ute be-HUP!-uh! before y-OOu c-HU'MP!-mm! came d-HA'MP!HA!AK!-down," he said with a hiss of pain as he rubbed his sternum again.

"Ouch," Atticus said sympathetically.

"Yeah," Otto breathed before waiting through another volley of hiccups. "They-HU'UP!-'re re-HUP!-re-UP!-uh! really hu-UP!-rting my HU'UP!HUP!-ugh! chest HU'UUP! chest and st-MP!-stomach. I-UCK!HUP! don't HMP! don't HUP! think I've HULP! h-AP!-ad a HUP! a case thi-HIP!-is bad HUUP! ow! this b-UP!-bad in HUCK! in a UP! while, hon-UCK!-honestly."

"Aw, dude. I'm sorry," Atty said as they watched him pour apple cider vinegar into a drinking glass. "We should've went ahead and cured them..."

But Otto shook his head, "I HU'UP! needed th-HUP!-that, At-NK!-Atty. That was-HUP!-was so-UCK! s-UP!-so hot!"

Atticus gave a shy smile as Otto gulped down the amber liquid.

"Yeah, it kinda was," they admitted.

They both waited after Otto had consumed the vinegar. A few seconds passed with some weak thumps of hiccups jolting him lightly. But they seemed to be fading despite not having been completely irradicated.

"Oh man hmk! I have n--no idea why they hmp! they were so ba-bad!" he finally said as he drew in another deep breath.

"Also..." he trailed off as his mouth stretched open in another yawn. His body jolted as it ended and he shook his head, eyes blinking as if trying to wake back up. "I can't seem to hmp! stop yawning."

"C'mere. Lay on the couch for a bit so I can rub your chest and belly, hm?" Atticus said.

Otto trailed behind them rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand and laid down with his head on their lap as had become their usual position when Atticus gave him care (either after bad hiccups or during a bad time in general).

Otto sighed in comfort as he felt their hands on his body and let himself relax into their body until, yet another yawn stretched out of his mouth and chest.

"Seriously! hm! What is up with these yawn-hmp!-yawns!" he said, squirming a little.

"Well, think about it," Atticus said sensibly. "You've just had your breath violently arrested from taking in a full lungful for a number of minutes, now. Over and over your lungs attempted to breath in fully and over and over your diaphragmic spasms prevented the action. So, I think this is just your body trying to get back into a normal breathing pattern." The writer shrugged. "Makes sense if you think about it."

"Oh," Otto responded, nodding in agreement to the assessment.

"Yeah I now," Atticus said, a little annoyed at themselves, "I think about them way too often."

"Think about what?" Otto teased as his body jerked softly with a silent one.

Atticus smirked shyly and rolled their eyes.

"Um...hiccups," they finally said as they ran their hand down his belly again.

Otto chuckled with a smile.

"I love you, you little freak," he said fondly. He reached his hand up and squeezed their tiny nose between the knuckles of his fingers.

Atticus snorted.

"I love you too, you big weirdo," they said and squeezed his nose back.

"Good morning, by the way," Otto said.

"One of the best ones in a while," Atty agreed. "Thank you."

"Same," he said.

And they were grossly cute forever, the end.

[bnesszai]

sskk + heart and/or jouzai + shatter <3

hello my beloved<3

sskk+heart

Atsushi is asleep long before Akutagawa. It is not unusual, given their respective jobs, but Akutagawa wishes, just once, that he could be the one lulled to sleep instead of the one still at war with himself. At the thought, Akutagawa's fingers curl into the fabric of Atsushi's shirt, desperate, guilty, lonely. It feels so wrong, the loneliness despite the breath of his partner beneath his head. Taking a deep breath, Akutagawa closes his eyes again. He shuffles closer, pressing his entire body against Atsushi's side. Atsushi mumbles something under his breath, head-turning so his cheek is on top of Akutagawa's, and then he snores again. A huff escapes Akutagawa's lips. The warmth seeps in, dispelling the cold hold of loneliness, one breath at a time. He focuses on Atushi's heartbeat, how it pulses right against his ear. Akutagawa has to actively stop himself from ripping it straight from Atsushi's chest and devouring it whole so that it can be just as much a part of him as Akutagawa feels it should be. Feels that it is. He has to resist the urge to open Atsushi's ribcage and climb in there himself, to make them one and the same. Is this what love is, he wonders, gore with sentiment?

~

jouzai+shatter

It was always going to end this way. A fake person living in decaying skin with a rotten apple core where a heart should be is not meant for pretty things. Jouno is very pretty. Even when he turns to particles, shimmering in the light, Dazsai found themself admiring him. Even when Jouno slipped back into old habits, a criminal, bloodied grin on his lips and a horrific idea, Dazai thought no one looked more beautiful. When Jouno held them, solidifying himself in Dazai's embrace, he was wholly, truly Dazai's, and peace never looked so good on anyone before. And that is why, Dazai thinks, it had to end. Anything Dazai could ever hope to want is lost. Anything Dazai touches rots and turns to ash beneath their fingertips. Jouno is no exception. Dust, swept away in the wind, just like everything Dazai has ever loved, but much more literal, much more cruel. Something cracks, something shatters, and then something screams. It was always going to end this way, with glass and dust and blood and Dazai in the middle of it all, still alive despite all their efforts and prayers.