#this was half a vent fic

[zinnynia]

And so it looks like I post again, but this time, not shitposts... actually, nevermind 😂😂💀

[littlemeow]

short agere fic, regressed tails and big brother sonic. after a scary fight against eggman, tails is struggling to cope

this is the first time ive written in a while and also its like 4am please be nice

The workshop's quiet. The only thing that Sonic can hear is his own breathing, the occasional rustle of paper as he turns a page of the book he's reading. He's laid out on Tails’ couch, ignoring the shaking of his hands as he comes down from the adrenalin high.

The last fight against Eggman had been… rough. Too many close calls. They'd won, he and Tails, of course they did, but it had taken a lot out of both of them.

He hears the floorboards creak behind him, and he cranes his neck to see Tails standing at the base of the stairs - he must have finished with his shower. He seems smaller somehow, ears drooping down, shoulders hunched.Sonic smiles at him, gently, but before he can even open his mouth to ask if he's okay, Tails rushes towards him.

He suddenly has a lap full of fox, and he groans dramatically as Tails wiggles his way under Sonic’s arms, knocking his book away.

"Well, hey there, big guy," he greets, ignoring the way Tails' knee seems to be digging directly into his ribs in order to set the book down and properly wrap his arms around Tails. "What's up?"

Tails doesn't answer, just tucks his head under Sonic's chin, hiding his face. His tails wrap around his body as if he's trying to hide.

“Oh, buddy…” Sonic sighs, sitting up enough that he can lean against the arm rest, still holding Tails. “It's okay. Its all over now. We're both safe.”

Tails shudders. Sonic can feel him sniffle against his neck.

Sonic grabs the throw blanket thats draped on the back of the couch, tugging it down. It falls on both of them, and, making sure to not let go of Tails, wraps it around them both. Tails makes a small noise, but some of the tension leaves his shoulders, relaxing into Sonic's hold. He sniffs again, and Sonic sighs, dropping his cheek to rest against the top of Tails' head.

“Were you worried? About Eggman?”

A small nod.

“That's okay. It was a really scary fight. But its over now, and he's not gonna come back for a while. We did a good job at stopping him.”

Tails doesn't answer, but reaches out slowly, brushing his fingers across the cover of the book Sonic was reading. Sonic's confused for a second, but guesses - “do you want to read it?”

Tails nods again, before ducking his face back into Sonic's neck.

Sonic laughs quietly, grabbing the book and opening it. “I guess I'll read it out loud then? I'm kinda in the middle of it, but I'm pretty sure you've read this one before so that's okay.”

He reads, slow and steady, like he used to do for Tails back when they first met years ago. With each chapter, he can feel Tails relax more and more, until finally Sonic can hear soft little snores. He puts the book down, combing his fingers through Tails’ hair.

He's not sure why Tails gets like this, sometimes. It's like the kit just gets… smaller. It reminds Sonic of when they first met, when Tails was barely more than a toddler, and looked around as if the world was a thousand times bigger than him.

Sonic doesn't understand why, but it doesn't matter. Tails always eventually bounces back, and for now, Sonic is content to rock him back and forth as he sleeps.

[daddyplasmius]

this is let grief do its work, a fic (currently unedited rip) I started as a kind of sister fic to hand on my stupid heart, another fic I'd written earlier and uh. yeah. you guessed it. haven't finished. I'm working on this on the side, Flying Over the Pit of Death + its sister fic & my original novels being my main focuses right now. I will most likely continue lgdiw sometime in the future, it just isn't my main priority. Like all of my fics, this idea is free for anyone to take & run with. if/when I finish this fic, the edited version will go on ao3. For context: this is just a prologue of sorts, depicting vaguely what is happening on the human side of the Portal the month after the Accident. On Danny's side, he's been chillin' in the Ghost Zone, where he ended up after half-dying, believing he's fully dead (he's not) & only realized he's still alive after it was too late for him to tell everyone what happened cuz like, awkward & embarrassing lol. HOMSH takes place a year later, when things come to a head. I feel it's important to reiterate that, although Danny isn't actually dead, the characters think he is & act accordingly. okay author's infodump note complete, fic under a readmore

“when they first go, let yourself think every selfish, no-good, dirty, angry, filthy, horrible thought. let the waves of anger wash through you. let grief do its work.” ーCaitlyn Siehl; Grief Counseling

On the first day, Sam had thought that, maybe, Danny was just busyーtoo busy to answer their texts, and their calls, and everything else. But then Tucker called her. It was a horrible game of telephone at first. Danny’s parents told Jazz, who told Tucker, who told Sam, and that’s how the communication went for two days until she and Tuck had enough.

They went to FentonWorks, the big, ugly building on the corner of Mockingbird and Cedar, and were surprised to find no one home at all. Not even Jazz. And, for the first time since they’d known the Fentons, the doors were locked. And when they tried to talk to Jazz later, they would find that they’ve officially filed a police report.

ー

Danny Fenton is missing. The last time Sam talked to him she was making fun of him, for being too scared to go check out the Fentons’ new Ghost Portal. She knew he was freaked out by stuff like thatーby ghosts. Now she doesn’t know if she’ll ever see him again.

There’s just no way. He can’t be gone. She literally saw him on Saturday. His empty seat in homeroom on the first day of school is the thing that does it. There’s this gap in the desks where he should be, but he’s not. Like he’s already haunting her.

It makes her sick. Everythingーeverything in her head, everything she knows. Despite what Dash and his asshole friends say, Danny wouldn’t run away. And the longer a person is missing, the more likely it is that they’reー

Sam doesn’t wait for the bell. She leaves Tucker in homeroom, goes straight to the bathroom, and wipes her face down in the sink, water turning black. Suddenly, everything macabre, everything dark and creepyーit just disgusts her.

She goes home early. No one even says anything, not the school, not her parents, not Tucker. Alone in her room, Sam starts to shake. She sobs once, something seething just under her skin. She stalks over to the wall where most of her horror movie posters are taped and starts tearing them down, one by one.

ー

Danny Fenton has been missing for a week, and Tucker, staring at the sweater his best friend forgot at his house, laid across his computer chair, thinks he’s starting to feel it.

Opening his phone, he feels it again. Looking at his texts, he feels it again, and again, and again.

Saturday • 4:47 p.m. Danny Phantom: xD Danny Phantom: not playing tonight, ghost portal opening night 👻 Danny Phantom: can play tmrw tho Too Fine: hell ya txt u then Danny Phantom: 👍 Sunday • 10:20 a.m. Too Fine: yo still up 4 doomed Too Fine: dued Too Fine: dude* Too Fine: you there Sunday • 10:21 a.m. Too Fine: txt me when you wanna play Sunday • 11:58 a.m. Too Fine: you up?

Tucker lets his phone fall on his bed. He doesn’t bother checking in with Sam. She’s been out of school and ignoring him for the last three days. It’s almost been a week sinceー

He gets up and stumbles to his chair. He sits down, careful not to mess up Danny’s NASA hoodie. Tucker turns on his desktop, types in his password, checks his emails. He messes around for as long as he can before he literally cannot take it anymore. He just can’t ignore it.

God. His best friend is gone. Is he coming back? Is heー

It’s like something inside his chest cracks. Without thinking, he pulls the NASA hoodie into his lap, and then over his head. It’s been here too long. It still has that smell of ozone and copper on it, though.

Tucker leans back in his chair and stares at the wall.

ー

Danny was home. That’s the thing. The last time Jazz saw him, he was inside the house, and she never saw him leave. He must have, at some point. She has no idea why, or for what, but he must have. It’s the only rational explanation. Danny left. Something happened. He never came home.

She feels the panic rising, gripping her throat again. She puts the candle down on the bleachers. Wipes her face. Whoever is speaking to the crowd of students holding vigil is a mess of white noise in her ears. It doesn’t help. It should and it doesn’t. A lot of things are the opposite of what Jazz knowsーthought they are.

She almost wishes it had just happened at home, been a little less drawn out.

As soon as it pops into her head, she feels sick, disgusted at herself.

But no one goes missing this long and lives. A very small percentage do. And if it had been some accident in the lab, like she always feared would happen, at least they’d have a body to mourn. At least they would know.

ー

Sam’s parents pretend they aren’t happy. They have to look worried, grieving, because what would the neighbours think if they didn’t? She can see through it, unlike them. They always hated the Fentons. They always hated Danny. They always hated Sam’s fascination with the macabre.

Well. They got what they wanted.

It’s like he’s in everything. She isn’t even looking for him, and he’s still there, still everywhereー

Sam rubs her eyes on her sleeve before she can properly cry. There’s no body. He could still come back. A month is a lot, but he could stillーhe could show up. Someone could find him alive. He could be alive.

Her parents look at her from across the lavish, stupidly large, solid wood table. She should know what type of wood it is but it’s like the information is behind a fogbank. She can see the silhouette. She just can’t make it out. Mom places her cutlery down neatly, dabs her mouth with a cloth napkin, and clears her throat.

“Sammy-kins…” She starts, and the rage inside Sam bubbles up like lava bursting through rock. “There’s been… We…”

She looks to the side for help, from dad. He looks incredibly awkward for a moment before turning to Sam with an expression she hasn’t seen since grandpa died.

“Saman… Sam.” He says, simply, slowly, and the lava in Sam’s gut turns cold, and heavy. “They’ve found evidence that has given them reasons to believe that… your friend is gone.” He’s never spoken this softly. Ever. His voice is barely audible above the blood rushing in her ears. “They’ve called off the search.”

ー

Tucker didn’t expect nightmares. He wakes up and he panic-cries into his pillow and hopes to whatever god or deity is listening that ghosts in dreams aren’t real. He can’t explain the fear. Everything is incredibly normal, more normal than his dreams ever have been, and then Danny walks in.

He would give anything for this to happen, right now, in real life. He’s afraid, though. In his dreams, a sheer terror overcomes him. He can’t get away fast enough. He can still hear his own voice echoing in his head. “You’re dead! You’re dead!”

It’s a wrongness he can’t quite graspーor doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to be afraid of his best friend. Tucker wants him back so badly. But his brain knows the truth, even if Tuck is digging his heels in and refusing to budge.

Someone knocks on his door, and he tenses.

“Tucker, sweetie? It’s…” Mom takes a deep breath. “It’s time to go.”

He grits his teeth and shoves his face into his pillow so hard he can’t get air. He stays like this until he can’t. He gets up.

Tucker walks across the floor like a zombie, barely aware of what he’s even doing. He manages to put on the suit his mom put out for him yesterday, and goes downstairs. He refuses breakfast. The three of themーmom, dad, Tuckerーgo out to the car, and drive to his best friend’s funeral.

ー

Jazz stares at the closed casket. There’s a pair of police officers out of uniform, or maybe detectives, standing in the corner by the photo album laid out on a table looking haunted. Aunt Alicia, uncharacteristically wearing a plain, black dress, sits with mom and dad at the other side of the room. Jazz stares at the casket and she tries to imagine that it’s not empty. That it isn’t making her scream inside with the frustration of it all. Her baby brother is gone. They couldn’t even find him. And probably never will. Because that’s how these things end.

Tucker walks into the room. Dark bags circle his unfocused eyes. His parents are right behind him, his father’s hand on his shoulder. Tucker looks at the casket. He turns away, catching sight of Jazz, and when his parents break off to meet hers, Tucker walks over.

He picks at his sleeves. Says nothing. Jazz tries to pick at the grief counseling she knows she’s studied for fun, but finds herself falling short.

She doesn’t see Sam or Mr. and Mrs. Manson walk in, but suddenly they’re there as well, smiling tightly and giving their condolences to Jazz’s parents. Sam doesn’t walk over. She stands in a corner and stares at a wall with purpose.

Jazz breathes slowly, willing her heart to stop pounding. She counts the stages she can see in front of her.

Too much Acceptance, all from strangers who never even knew him personally. She glances at Dash Baxter, tugging on his tie and looking annoyed. She can feel Anger in her. But also Denial. Bargaining. Depression.

And somehow, Acceptance, too.

They’re not stages. She never really got that before. You feel them all at once, all the time, and they don’t go away. The intensity changes, turning from a background hum to bright bursts of emotion at any little reminder.

She looks at Tucker out of the corner of her eye. She wonders if he’s feeling that way too. Being bombarded by the stages of grief in a way no one prepared them for. Is this why mom and dad never let them get any pets? Besides Danny’s gerbil, which promptly disappeared before she could even get used to the rodent’s smell. What happened to it? Was it rehomed, or is its body still somewhere around the house, unfound, unlooked for?

The stages start over, skipping between Depression, Anger, Denial, the emotions falling over themselves. She wished the cops would leave.

Not soon enough, it’s over. The funeral home employees usher them out, the rooms and halls now empty. The drive home is simultaneously the longest and shortest ever. She stares up at the brick and all she wants to do is sleep. She heads inside intending to do just that.

She takes her shoes off at the door. Mom and dad take off their jacks and move to settle in the living room. Mom is holding a tissue to her eye. Jazz hesitates for just a moment.

Should she do something? She feels like she should do something, anything. She wants to suggest therapy. She’s afraid to open her mouth, though. Jazz can feel the blame on the back of her tongue, ready to spill out. That would be the worst thing for her to do, and she doesn’t know if she has the strength to hold it back, because for fucks sake, if they just watched their children, this wouldn’t have happened.

Jazz turns to the stairs and starts climbing them. She doesn’t get halfway before she’s blinded by drywall dust and knocked off her feet.

[luvnami]

hi Ai!! I wanted to ask if you could yap about your streamer!sanemi fic >u< I'd love to hear what you have in mind for it, whatever you want to share!

HIIIIIIII ZEEEEEEEEEEE oh my god meow ok im gonna put it under the cut cause its a lot

i read a poem on tiktok by @/whispersintheabyss (its their yin and yang poem, day 20/21). its originally a mlm poem but the tldr is that the protag goes to a diner bc their mom set up a date for them, but a random person keeps the protag company while their date is late. eventually the protag and person fall in love (it's a lot more than this, but this is just a brief overview)

ive been talking with my friends about dating and life recently, especially since one of my friends is feeling really pressured by her parents to find a partner. ive had my own talks with my mom, and that whole topic abt love and marriage and dating feels very... heavy and stressful. ive also been struggling with direction in life (no college, no job), so i wanted to write smth that people could relate to! facing all these big decisions and feeling like youve fallen short of something you couldve been. im rambling a bit, but i promise ill get to the streamer part soon ><

i kind of want to emulate the whole 'arranged date' and 'run in with a stranger' thing with reader and sanemi, where streamer!sanemi feels bad watching reader wait for their date. i was also thinking of maybe reader being a casual viewer of sanemi's streams, so they recognise him and kind of laugh at the coincidences. i want them to find comfort in each other, e.g. late nights where reader can't sleep and they watch sanemi's streams to feel less lonely, or sanemi is feeling overwhelmed with the need to perform on stream so they feel relaxed being just himself around the reader

maybe i'll throw in a bit of streamer drama... i've been around these sorts of social circles so i have a fair idea of what happens (LOL)... it's probably gonna be slowburn (im sorry im such a sucker for exploring the developing dynamics of a relationship), i really want to emphasise reader's struggle to get their life back 'together' and the strains of having a viewer become more than just a face in the crowd for sanemi

this is just a huge thought so idk if i'll actually have the strength to do it... im already running out of steam for office romcom (though i swear its just the next arc that's hard to write) buttttttt i'll do my best!!!! i wanted to write a whole bunch of fics that would fit in my 'in every universe' series. i realised i never really explained, but i wanted to write about how sanemi never prioritises his own happiness in the canon timeline. its always his family, genya, masachika, never himself in the front seat. so, every fic under the series is supposed to be a separate timeline where sanemi finds his own happiness and soulmate :3 including office romcom, including this streamer fic, and a whole bunch of other one shots i have planned

[donttouchtheneednoggle]

realising you're trans is like realising you've been driving in a clown car all your life and infinite clowns of misery and uncomfortableness and dysphoria have been squished into what looks like a completely normal car and once they start coming out they don't stop

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Update on my Whumptober thoughts: Not all the prompts will be posted, I have all 31 planned out but I found out that you don't have to post all 31. If a fic is finished, I'll post it but there's some big beasts that I want to write properly instead of rush. Also, I might not even write all 31. I want the completionist title but I don't have the time nor energy to force myself to write all the prompts and I did it last year and it wasn't like life-changing. I like Whumptober because the prompts help my creativity, spark some inspiration (talking about my Delancey Brothers Fic) but the perfectionist in me just beats myself up about not getting enough fics done before October or not writing enough each day to get them finished and then writing fics that all sound the same or the ideas being kind of shitty because I'm forcing them. I want to do my ideas justice rather than mass produce shit I don't like because I feel I need to, it's a constant line I walk between "I want to write something well and that I'm proud of so might be inactive for a while on AO3" and "I want to get this idea out there so need to post a bunch of stuff now"

[irondad-defensesquad]

"What angers me is that... why did it take me nearly dying to prove you that I'm worth it?" Peter asks, though looking at nowhere. "Then again, you probably just didn't want that in your conscience, right?" He laughs, nearly bursting in tears again.

He's met with silence.

Peter inhales deeply.

"... it all just reminded me that, if I'm nothing without my suit... or anyone... then I don't deserve help," he concludes. "I already knew that. But honestly, it hurts that I wasn't proven wrong."

[poured-my-past-down-the-drain]

I HAD TO CHANGE IN THE BATHROOM AND SHE GOT IN THROUGH THE VENTS EHAT THE FREAKKKK

—Q :]

Yeah vents don’t stop it :\ it’s kind of grotesque actually I don’t know what bones she lacks to move around in a ventilation shaft like that

[theguardianace]

i wish i was a faster writer because i have SO MANY GOOD RUI FIC IDEAS but they all end up permalocked in the idea stage... the things i could say about this sad purple cat...

[primus-why]

This rant ain't the same fandom so I don't feel bad for going off about this here... but I just spent like 4 days reading a 325k fic that was heralded as an ol' fandom classic back in like 2006... only for the last 40k or so to devolve into absolute unsatisfying insanity. I'm talking about random plot twists for no reason right towards the end with no time to flesh them out... characters hitting their peak character growth halfway through the story and then not growing any further beyond that for the remainder... a VERY unnecessary rug pull ending-- literally think Remember Me (2010)'s slow zoom-out of the world trade center on the morning of 9/11. I am not even joking (it involves a plane crash)

Precious days of life I shan't get back...

[forfuckssakejim]

alright then. now that i'm home and i have a cold one opened im going to do some writing. we'll see how that turns out.

[crychan]

I AM MY BIGGEST OPP FRFR ORZ

[smoosnoom]

ive been writing this fic for the past week and a half and it's just past 5k 😭 what is happening to me .

[lazydogz]

//tw for Neil's death and discussions of drowning//

Todd never learned how to swim

His parents never cared to teach him, it seemed like they lacked in all qualities of parenting unless it pertained to pushing him to the brink of burn out in academics. It was something to be expected when he lived in the shadow of his older brother, paling in comparison to every aspect of the two. Jeffery seemed to always be five steps ahead, by the time Todd had even grown old enough approach the old lake on his own Jeffery's free time was eaten up by extra classes and sports, leaving Todd on his own.

And he tried, he'd taken a deep breath and slipped below the cool waters just to try to prove to himself he could do something on his own. Prove that there was something more about him but the lake seemed to have a penchant for empty chested individuals much like Todd, the water swarming him and pouring into his lungs like an barren jar tossed into a lake.

He kicked and gasped for something more than the murky waters surrounding him on all sides but all he tasted was clay on his tongue and the blinding sand in his eyes. Hands reached out towards the shards of light cutting through the dark waves just above his head. The catfish watched him from the bottom, their god-like eyes and opened mouths filled with awe as the waited for him to join them at the muddy bottom.

And just as the thought that this was it crossed his mind, just as every bit of fight fled his body and he could feel the scales against his skin, he was pulled back above the surface. He coughed up the water in his lungs and through bleary eyes looked up to be met with the harrowingly disappointing look on his father's face, a haunting look. He could draw the very look he was given blind.

They never asked what happened and Todd was half convinced they thought he did it on purpose.

Todd became wary of lakes, he didn't trust what laid beneath the mirrored surface even when the blue skies made it look so inviting. He watched his steps while on old and unsteady bridges, crossed his fingers whenever he balanced on fallen tree trunks over rivers and never once tried to swim again.

Years later he's practicing lines on the old dock at Welton, watching his every agonizing step backwards as Neil approaches him fast, spitting out quotes with a hypnotizing passion. Each step closer and the dock dips unsteadily on the water, rising and falling as Todd's heart beat wildly in his chest. The edge is coming closer to his feet, his boots nearly hanging off the wooden planks and Neil is still coming at him, mind completely lost in the weaving of his character through carefully practiced words.

And then they're nose to nose, boot to boot, and the unsteady dock dipping dangerously to one side, threatening to send the two toppling over into the chilly water. Neil was smiling like an utter madman and after taking a deep breath in, Todd noticed his hand was clutching at the front of his coat, keeping him steady, keeping him in place and above the water. His face felt hot and suddenly they needed to break apart and sit shoulder to shoulder.

They watched the calm water reflecting the soft clouds in it's face, the autumn leaves skimming the surface and the tiny ripples running each one makes as it lands, disrupting the otherwise peaceful painting of the sky it had made. Todd's heart still was beating so fast, even more so when Neil leaned closer to his side.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" He whispered beside him.

Todd looked down into the water, finding the mirrored version of himself looking back up at him. And Neil, Neil beside him staring at him with the same eyes he looked out at the lake with. A certain fondness as if he'd known this all his life, it'd carved out it's own special place in his heart.

Todd cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, yeah it is." He couldn't ignore the way his chest was fluttering with butterflies.

A week later Neil kissed him out on the same dock with the reflection of the moon in the water as their only witness.

The months move by and soon enough Todd is in bed, feeling as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head as he processes what Charlie had told him. Suddenly, he was back in the water, he can't breath and everything was closing in on him. The light that was so close in reach has been washed away by the darkening waves.

He didn't remember how he got outside, the cold air sinking it's teeth in his sensitive flesh and freezing the tears on his rosy cheeks. He walked aimlessly, he didn't know where he was going but his feet are carrying him towards that godforsaken dock. His blood ran hot, threatening to erupt from his veins if he doesn't turn around, not even throwing himself into the powdery white snow tames the feverish agony running through him.

Then the wooden planks, covered in the blindingly white snow, are beneath his feet and he's screaming out into the emptiness of the lake till his voice ran raw and his lungs gave out. So much sat on his tongue but he couldn't get it out through his sobs, tears freezing to his face just as quickly as they had left his eyes.

And then for a moment he stands in the cold oblivion, staring out at the frozen over lake in quiet contemplation.

Todd prayed that maybe if he stepped out onto the frozen expanse of the lake it would shatter beneath his swaying legs and swallow him whole. That maybe the icy water would fill his lungs and just maybe that would numb the agonizing ache of his heart.

Maybe he'd finally feel less empty if his chest was filled with water.

[luvnami]

been thinking abt my streamer sanemi fic a loooooot...

[musical-chick-13]

It's also just so incredibly frustrating because people will take any example of a (usually male) character being horrible as some sort of "proof" that they're mentally ill (which, hmm, interesting that your automatic explanation for "why do they choose to treat other people horribly" is "they have a mental illness that just Makes Them Act Like That"), but there is no kind of nuanced or critical discussion of media that ACTUALLY (for ill or for good) tries to depict mental illness, and you try to recommend media that handles it well (that might even be good for other, completely unrelated reasons!!) and people just ignore you.