#we can be gay today

[nerdsbianhokie]

one of my favorite regional rainbow flags is one i recently learned about and isn't in the link provided

so, this is the Sámi flag, which is already a fantastic flag, tbh

and this is the Sápmi Pride flag

Do you know if pride flags are universal? Just wondering if any other countries use flags that have been created there. I'm guessing not because I think maybe we'd see them on Tumblr, but I also realize that lack of evidence on Tumblr doesn't make that a certainty☺️ anyway, I thought this blog would be a good place to ask. Also, I guess where were all the current standards designed?

Depending on what one thinks of in regard to pride flags (the progress flag, the rainbow flag, the asexual flag, etc.) they are fairly universally used. There is photographic evidence of them being used globally to represent queerness around the world!

That being said, there are customizations galore, both to represent individuality and intersectionality. This can mean similar colours but different configurations, additional elements added to flags, or multiple flags melded.

Flags in general usually start with an individual design from an individual person, such as the rainbow flag by Gilbert Baker. But localizing the rainbow design to represent a more specific intersection of identities is relatively common!

While researching, I found this great resource for localized versions of the rainbow flag and their individual uses and meanings: https://www.crwflags.com/fotw/flags/qq-rb_v.html

Here are some that I enjoyed learning about!

Dominican Republic gay pride

Hong Kong LGBT Flag

Lebanese gay flag (Lebanon)

LGBT Flag (South Korea)

I want to thank you for asking this because researching it was an enlightening experience for me! I enjoyed learning about it and am excited to share this information!

[themisterhip]

Is my birthday today, so now is his birthday too lmao

[napping-sapphic]

I just want to fall in love with someone who makes me feel safe like even when we’re angry or sad or upset i just want to know that both of us are still going to be okay

[skitskatdacat63]

"Fernando" S1E4 - Fernando Alonso & Carlos Sainz Sr.

[thresholdbb]

what's the threshold theory

There was a post about how Tom is the only crew member who isn't really affected by the Borg, and there's a theory that he has so much luck because he saw the past and the future when he crossed the transwarp threshold. He saw the past and the future, all of time and space. There's some subconscious part of him that remembers that experience. In fact, Tom refused to play a part in Chakotay indulging Annorax's temporal incursions, probably because a part of him knew nothing good could come of it.

If we extend that same theory to Janeway, some of her wild luck with time travel and other crack plans starts to make sense. She doesn't verbally hate time travel until after the events of Threshold, since it happens in Time and Again without complaint. Janeway has an uncanny knack for time travel, as evidenced every time she deals with it. She hates time travel, but it might be because part of her knows exactly how to manipulate the timeline. She manages to avoid the "inevitable" temporal explosion in Future's End, saving both Voyager and Braxton. She resets the entire timeline in Year of Hell, and no one else followed her reasoning. She pulled it off flawlessly. In Relativity, she senses the incidents are all related, despite it being just one reading that connects them. By the time she's involved, she has a temporal incursion factor of .0036 and a time travel protocol named after her, even if that may just be Braxton's personal grudge. Then there's Endgame, where she intentionally changes the timeline. Up until this point, she has been dragged into time travel, but for the first time, she jumps in on purpose. How does Admiral Janeway know how to get them home sooner in a way that completely avoids the Temporal Integrity Commission? It's because she has seen all of time, and part of her knows exactly what needs to happen so she can get Voyager home and do it in a way that becomes baked into the prime timeline. Maybe she doesn't consciously remember what happened during her transformation, but the experience lives in her mind somewhere, guiding her decisions.

[evelynpr]

You ever think about how All Might has two male exes that both have a child with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a big heart?

[charmac]

Which episodes have the best Dennis and Mac ship moments?

I wouldn't necessarily say Mac and Dennis have "ship moments" that you can pick and label as the "best" (other than what would make sense as scenes for compilations/edits?) and I'll defer to @psymachine's answer to a question similar to this: don't watch this show for Macdennis moments/episodes.

I can pretty confidently say that Mac and Dennis (and the show) will be lost on whomever decides to go at it through the lens of "best ship moments". Because what is considered a good "ship moment" for something as fucked as their relationship?

Mac is canonically admittedly in love with Dennis, so it's not hard to pull a ton of "ship moments" from his relentless pursuit: you have attempted kissing, erotic dreams, baby trapping, sex doll Dennis, room trapping...all stellar attempts on Mac's side and all important aspects for their relationship (Gets Romantic being one of my favourite episodes), but those moments are almost all, in the most blatant way to put it, sexual harassment. Sexual harassment of Dennis that was essentially born and grown from Dennis' conditioning of Mac's sex life in the seasons before: making and recording sex tapes for him, teaching him the best way to get sex is through carefully orchestrated systems and schemes made up of lies and deceit, that getting off has very little to do with a second (willing) participant.

Barring their individual personalities and mental illnesses, what ends up coming from Mac heavily relies on what comes from Dennis years before, and what is eventually ongoing between both of them (reaching batshit levels of sex chicken) exists among and within that all. IMO, placing any specific "best" on a moment for them as a ship is almost impossible without reference to everything before it (and an actual understanding of it all).

That being all said, what I would call the best ship moments for the two of them are what's hidden between and underneath the hard punches of their back and forth, the subtleties that are continually ongoing (mostly the ones that lead you to understand that Dennis is in it, even when Mac is on the offensive), this shit that's impossible to pin out of context:

The way Dennis gets even stupider when he's wrapped up in an idea with Mac (Timeshare, for example) and the way he attempts to cut off his outbursts when dealing with Mac's own stupidity (see Frank Retires) (and Recession is great for both of these). The fact that Dennis will push past his own grievances for little reason other than to make Mac happy (Suburbs) and the fact that at the end of it all, he's always going to end up going home with Mac (Divorced.. mm). (For all of this in one shot: Inflates)

And for Mac, in more recent events with Dennis on the offensive, when his ever desperate vie for Dennis' attention and affection is pushed back on in favour of being the Mac Dennis truly wants. The Mac Dennis fell in love with decades ago.

[humming-fly]

This 4th of July I’m stealing the patriotism euphoria that’s usually associated with assholes idolizing the worst attributes of this country because fuck ‘em I live here too and remembering the things this country actually got Right is an important exercise when trying to rally anyone to want to defend it in November SO putting my money where my mouth is I’ll start easy and say I really like National Parks!! It’s rad how many of them there are and how they’re actual set up to preserve some of the most beautiful wild areas in our country while still letting people visit to enjoy and experience nature!! (Less important but I love how they put national parks on the quarters I think that’s real fun)

Feel free to add on if something speaks to ya!

[lotrmusical]

i love you trans people. i love determining who we are for ourselves, creating and reinventing ourselves based around what we want rather than what we get told we're supposed to do. being trans is the coolest thing ever and every trans person is made of beauty and brightness and bravery and we all deserve a whole world of love

[momentomori24]

Someone on twitter said it best: The title should actually be "How NOT to show support for SA victims that don't fit your desired demographic."

"His character is reinforcing negative gay stereotypes" and it's a hypersexual gay man who died in the 30s struggling with addiction and drug abuse to get through his life of exploitation, repression, trafficking and ipv doused with fake glitter and glam so no one can see beneath the cracked surface of his tortured soul.

"I don't think I've ever come across a character so poorly represented yet so greatly praised by the general audience" Because Angel isn't "representation", but an actual character with his own unique struggles and issues and responses that thousands of people (inclusing myself) can deeply relate to and if not "relate" then sympathise with. He isn't "SA rep". He isn't "Gay rep". He's Angel Dust. He's a person, and a broken one at that. If you don't relate to him the way so, so many others do, then maybe it's not for you. I already hate you 💀

[alterouslyinlove]

heyyy sooo likeee *twirls hair*

[oca-needs-help]

The sillies ☺️☺️ (they die today.)

[starangela]

me when I... me when I do anything (I'm so gay)

[archangeldyke-all]

wow, okay, transphobia isn't fucking welcome on this blog! and if you have a problem with that i'll block you, bitch!

[kanene-yaaay]

Oh, To Die By Your Hands

Kanene's notes: IT SEEMS SO SERIOUS WITH THAT TITLE KJUHYTFRGHUJK Nah, just your normal tickle fic with not so much normal characters. Fit and Pac have been living rent free in my mind since before Purgatory and after their date??? I am dead on the floor. Get a man who will declare his feelings for you in your native language for real for real.

Warnings: Lots of nibbles, tickly kisses and raspberries in this one. Switch!Fit and Switch!Pac. Around 6.500 words. Also! I tried to add the way that Pac calls Fit because of his accent written on the fic because I think it's lovely and cute. Hope it isn't too much confunsing or strange :D

[~*~]

“Thank you for coming, Pac. Ramón really likes when you sing him that lullaby.” His voice was rough but soft, just like his entire form and self when it came to his son, his beautiful baby boy. 

Pac smiled, also following his example and lowering his voice, closing the secured door of the kid’s room carefully before they both headed to the other room where they held their first date, a prep on his step. “It’s no problem, Fitch! Actually, I don’t know why he likes that one so much, it literally talks about how a Cuca, which is like… a kind of monster? I don’t know how to explain. But how she will grab, or better, uh, snatch the kid away because the parents are out working.”

A loud peal of laughter was pried from the mercenary’s lips, staring at the other with unbelief in his eyes. “Wait, wait, that is the actual meaning of the song?”

“Yeah, yeah! I don’t know why they made it so scary. I wouldn’t be able to sleep if someone sang it to me before putting me to bed.”

“Damn, brazilian lullabies are just at a hardcore level.”

“Teaches you to sleep with one eye open, right?”

“That is right, that is right.”

They shared smiles. Arriving at the place, the air was still light, but it wasn’t difficult to see the question itching Pac’s throat, wanting to jump out of his body. It was in the way that he walked closely by Fit side and how he kept sneaking glances at him, quickly deviating them to look around the room before going back to stare, keeping the cycle for a while. Each time his steps got closer and closer until their hands intertwined in a hold.

It made sense he would be like that, of course. Fit would be just the same if his boyfriend woke him up in the middle of the night asking him to come to his place to help to calm down his kid after a nightmare because he wasn’t able to. 

Still, he was glad that no questions were asked, not when Pac arrived - barely half a minute later after he sent his message, sleep and anxiety clinging like a shadow to his form - and not now, as the storm seemed to have passed.

Shame, however, kept flowing hot in his veins. He and Ramón had been alone since… always, really. They both had dealt with each other’s nightmares and night terrors more times than they could count. This one wasn’t supposed to be different. Shouldn’t be different. He should be there the moment his boy opened the door of his room with tears streaming down his face, sobs stubbornly escaping from his firmly pressed lips and hands open for a comforting hug that Fit should be able to give, a rare show of a child that his baby boy was, but refused to demonstrate most of time.

And yet…

Fit himself hadn’t been much better. Hadn’t been better for a long time, now. Because everytime he closed his eyes the threat from Madagio filled his mind and nightmares kept permeating his every night for the past two weeks, crowding his mind with horrifying scenarios that shouldn’t, but shook his core. 

Usually, he would just wake up, push all of it - the feelings, the fears, the screams begging for their life - deep down his chest and hope that it wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.

Nevertheless to say, as all the things in life, it definitely did. 

Because that night, when Ramón looked at his face - and god knows what he saw there - he stopped right in his tracks and carefully signed his name. He had been crying, he had been crying and scared and tired and all Fit could think - because words simply didn’t come out, no matter how much he tried to spill, spit them to comfort his kid - is that he could kill him. So quickly. Easily, even, with a twist of his wrist, a swipe of his trident, a pull from his bomb stacks, he could kill him and suddenly he was frozen on the spot, unable to even get closer to his son. 

If Madagio had any power like the Federation, it could control him and destroy his most precious riches in a matter of seconds. It wouldn’t need to come to the island. It wouldn’t even need to pull Fit from it to make his life a living hell.

“There is something that we need to talk, Pac. Please take a seat.”

So, he called Pac. He deserved to know exactly what he was getting into (how many times would they have this kind of conversation?) and Ramón deserved a father who would actually get his shit together and get over it.

Pac gulped and looked at him slightly startled, knowing very well what the serious tune could mean, probably with a thousand of scenarios already running at light speed in his mind. “O-of course, Fitch.”

He then softly squeezed his hand - because there was no universe where Pac wouldn’t be perfect and strong and there but sometimes Fit seemed to forget that so he had to remind him - and let it go, sitting on the blue couch Fit recently added on the room and expectantly waiting for the other to do the same.

Which he promptly did - of course, because there wasn’t any universe where he would go and Fit wouldn’t immediately follow him. 

“Wine? What about wine? Do you want some wine?” The brazilian offered, pulling glasses from his well trusted backpack and a bottle from the refrigerator nearby. 

“Already wanting to take me to bed, Pac? Wow.” 

“No! Stop it.” Pac lightly shoved his arm, both chuckling for a bit before Fit sobered, taking a deep breath and a sip of the liquid. It was good stuff, probably from Aypierre’s vines. “Thought we were here to have a serious conversation, no?”

“We are.” 

Fit stopped, pondered how he would put it in words. It didn’t matter, there was no easy way to put it.

“Pac, would you kill me if it was necessary?”

The scientist sputtered, almost choking on the wine before turning in alarm to stare at the other, his gaze zig zagging across his body as if it would transform at any moment into an enemy, a monster in disguise pretending to be his boyfriend right in front of him. 

He didn’t doubt Pac’s abilities, even if Pac himself hardly believed in them. He was an extremely good fighter, going through monsters and battles with a calm demeanor and precise, strong attacks that ended the conflict as soon as possible. Fit was very skilled, himself. But he was sure that if Pac used one of his brilliant plans and his scythe, it would take a lot, but he would eventually come down.

But, for that, he needed to know if Pac would go through with the plan.

“Why, why that, Fitch? Did something happen? Are you feeling weird? Is it…” He got closer. Fit’s heart beated louder. If it was him… if it was him it wouldn’t be so bad. “Is it the Federation, again?”

“No. It’s… the other.”

Understanding downed in his expression. “Oh. Did he contact you again?”

Fit shook his head. “No. But it did say that it would hurt you if I tried to betray our contract and I am not planning to but, Pac, I need to know if you’ll do it. If I become a threat.”

Pac bit his lower lip, thoughtfully. Fit’s muscles relaxed, glad to know he was taking this as a serious worry, not just some unfounded fear.

“We will save you. Just like we did before, just like you did to me, Fitch. I, I will be there for you too, when you need and for as long as you need, if you’re gone we will bring you back.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t, but, if I have to kill you, Fit… how will I tell this to Ramón? Or Sunny? WHo is going to be her bodyguard? And what about the morning crew? Are we supposed to just… stay?”

“You are all very strong and I am sure that-”

“No.” His voice was determined, sad. His hands gestured widely. “No, no, no. I am not leaving you behind, Fit. What about when I’m in danger, who will rescue me? Who will share the island’s fofoca with me? Or give me a refrigerator full of food on the first date? Or kill the eye workers when they attack or tease Tubbo when he goes on a date with Fred, or help us to take care of Sunny, or, or, or…” Fit held the other’s hands, squeezing it tight when he started to talk too fast, snapping Pac out of his thoughts, making him take a big breath. “No. You can’t go away, Fitche. Never. I won’t let them take you too.”

Oh.

Oh.

Yeah, that… that made sense. 

This was Pac, who the first thought when seeing his friend being drugged and controlled by the Federation was going under the same treatment so he could find a cure for it. The one who forgave Cellbit in a heartbeat when he told him he had changed. Who refused to kill him - even before the date, when Fit couldn’t even put in words his feelings for the other - during Purgatory. Who threw himself into mines and danger easily without thinking twice and would do all of it again an again if it meant keeping someone he cared about safe, even when the Federation kept taking his family one day after the other. He would do it in a heartbeat.

It made sense he didn’t want to lose another one. He was smart, strong, kind… Fit would trust him with his life into his hands in a blink of an eye.

But…

“If I hurt Ramón, Pac. If ever get close to hurt any of the eggs…”

“I will lock you, Fit. And I, we! We will find a cure again. None of them will die and you don’t need to die either.”

“Do you promise?”

Pac nodded, composure and eyes kept firm in their place, holding him down and reminding him he was no longer on this alone. “I promise, Fit. And if your boss cat comes here to hurt them… Then we will kick his butt, right?”

Fit snorted, if it was anyone else, he would doubt, throw their words away as a senseless attempt to comfort him, without true meaning. His boss was god, some kind of entity with power enough to pull him out of a world of literal destruction and throw him into a dimension where all of it never existed. However, this was Pac. Both he and Mike have proven over and over again that there was no place, no rule, no limit that they weren't able to overcome and laugh at their face when the managed to overcome it.

Maybe… If it was him.

He could believe it. Besides, Pac did promise that he wouldn’t let him hurt the children. They were always the priority, afterall

“Yes, we will. Thank you, Pac.” He took a deep breath. Since he already started, he could as well… 

Talk. About stuff.

“Sometimes I… worry about, uh, what I can do.”

(Kill. Maim. Destroy. Break it down piece by piece until there is nothing left. Watch in the shadows and continue his way quietly through all the screams.)

Pac understood what he meant. “Oh. It’s fair. I think, it must be hard, when you think about it…” He then squeezed his hand before letting them go, starting to count on his own fingers. “But, I don’t think you should worry about it, Fitch. You can do a lot of awesome things, too! You’re a really good cooker, you can make very cool bombs and explosions, you’re good at hide and seek, at saving me when I am down. You are also very good at hiking and training, which makes sense, right? With how muscular and great you are, also-”

“Pac,” Fit voice’s took a firm tune, pulling Pac from his rambling and immediately catching his attention, wide black eyes turning at him attentively. “Pac, I was made for killing. All of this is just…”

(It doesn’t matter.)

“Nah.”

Fit blinked once, twice, quite astonished at how nonchalant the scientist sounded. Stared at those beautiful, soft eyes that watched him with a playful light that somehow nothing on the Island had been able to destroy. Strong. “Sorry?”

“I don’t think you were made for killing, Fit. No one is only able to do one thing and everyone can change. Besides… it gave you a lot of skill, right? Surviving there. That is why you’re one of the best fighters on the island, Fit! The codes, the eye workers… even Cucorucho is no match for you. You’re so strong, fierce, cool, fit and,” Pac’s determined tune tripped a little bit as his words got faster and a tad more distracted, his eyes deviating from his stare, looking at his face, arms, torso… Fit would be lying if he said he didn’t like how it hovered for a little while on his chest and muscles, “and you’re good looking too! Awesome, ruthless, muscular, handsome...”

“Ahalright!” Fit cut him before his face melted from how hot it felt, the tip of his ears feeling like they were on fire. His voice seemingly broke Pac out of his mind and made him immediately attempt to hide his face on his hoodie, trying to jump away to hide and being stopped by the gentle hand still holding his, keeping him close. That didn’t prevent more embarrassed snickers from also filling the air. “Sorry, sorry, I got distracted.”

“Take it easy, big boy, take it easy.”

Fit only laughed harder when the teasy nickname made the other shout in protest, a light hit landing on his shoulder. It successfully distracted him enough so his head peaked again from the deepness of his blue hoodie, so Fit counted it as a win. Especially when a playful gleam took over Pac’s glare.

“Actually, Fitch, I think you were made for something.”

“Oh, you think so?”

Pac got closer, smiling, nodding in such an innocent way that could only mean trouble. 

“Yeah, for kisses.” He laid his head on his shoulder and Fit could feel goosebumps travel his entire body from the skin contact. His voice became lower, slower, certain. “Can I kiss you, Fit?”

Fit definitely didn’t bluescreen, half words and meaningless sounds leaving his mouth in a string of incoherency that lasted a couple of minutes before he finally managed to get himself together enough to shove an actual sentence, with a too high pitched tune, through his throat. “I-I mean, of course you can, Pac! If, ah, if you want to.”

Pac’s answer was a single kiss placed in his collarbone before the brazilian focused his administrations on his neck. Soft, warm lips leaving a trail of tingles and electricity whatever they touched. Fit could feel the care in each one and it felt… nice. 

Cozy. 

Warm. 

Tickly.

Ok, actually, it was very, very tickly.

Fit closed his eyes and turned his face around, trying to hide the beginning of a smile that grew bigger with every light - so, so, so light - peck grazing his skin. Not wanting to actually ruin the sweet moment between them, especially after Pac got the courage to ask for what the mercenary had been wanting to do for a while.

(Cuddle and kiss his boyfriend. Oh god, when did he become such a softie?)

The problem with his hiding tactic is that it only left more spots in the open for Pac to attack and bash in attention, not leaving a single patch of skin alone without a caring goodbye kiss, unknowingly breaking piece by piece Fit’s barriers.

He twitched when his boyfriend got too close to the line of his jaw, the warmth racing up to the tip of his ears in a way he hoped that Pac didn’t realized. The one with blue hoodie and attentive eyes stopped in a hitched breath. Waited.

Fit got his racing heart and tickly tingles under control. He was not going to lose to a few accidental tickles. He was not.

He squeezed Pac’s and drew circles on the back of his hands, turning at him with a teasy smirk and crooked eyebrows.

“Oh, is it my turn now?”

Pac giggled and shook his head. “Wait, wait, I still got…”

Without finishing his sentence he dived and placed a light kiss right under his chin, successfully catching the other out of guard and making one of various locked snickers wheezily flee from his lips, quickly being followed by others when Fit tried to cover his smile, turning around once again.

“Oh, god, I am doing this wrong, aren’t I?” Pac pushed himself away and grumbled, starting to search in his pockets for his warpstone, increasing the other’s snickery fit. “Ok, ok, that is it.Thank you so much for calling, I had an incredible time so now I am going to throw myself off the Cristo Redentor and then go to bed, good night, Fit. Tell Ramón I loved him and tell Richas to take a shower, bye.”

“No, no, Pac. Calma, calma.” Fit held one of his wrists, pulling Pac back to his place on the sofa, chasing his black eyes when they kept running away from his while the scientist kept shaking his head from side to other in a dramatic despair. Fit ended up resting his other hand on his cheek, guiding his look back. “I would never laugh at my brazilian boyfriend.” He tried to not grin smugly when that melted the other’s pout in a shy smile “The kisses just tickled me, that is all.”

That immediately brought Pac’s attention. “Wait, Fit… you’re ticklish?”

“It seems like I am, but I am not sure. Not a lot of chances for bonding and laughing when fighting for your life in 2b2t.”

“Oh, I see.” Silence, Pac’s wrist wiggled out of his hold and suddenly there were warm hands flying to his neck, fingertips dancing on it, blunt nails and wiggly fingers tickling the sensitive spot softly. “So, you’re ticklish.”

Fit huffed a laugh at the strange feeling, instinctively scrunching up his neck all while he tried to not pry Pac’s hands away. Same hands that now spidered their way up to his ears, tracing them and giving each one a few scratches, Pac watching in awe as their tips became more and more colored with each passing second.

“Oh my god, Fit, your ears are so red! Are you blushing? That is really, reeeally cute, you know?”

 Fit’s shoulders began to shake slightly with the effort to keep all the giggles and laughter trapped inside, the task growing more and more difficult as Pac kept his exploring. Fingers tapping their way down to the mercenary’s ribcage, making his torso twitch from one side to another as they started skittering up and down, tracing senseless drawings and forms on the spot. Another fleeing snigger escaped from his firmly pressed lips. There was no way such light, barely even touching touch could tickle that much.

“You can laugh it out, Fit. I bet it will feel much better! Besides,” the gleam in his eyes got sharper and Pac didn’t really lower his voice, but something in his tune changed, a turning point that made a shiver run down Fit’s spine. It didn’t feel like something truly dangerous but alerts began flashing in his mind when the touch became just a tad firmer. 

Fit had to push down the squirms that threatened to push the other away. “You can’t just keep all that laughter only for yourself, now, that wouldn’t be fair. No, no, not fair at all. Keeping all those giggles and snickers hidden from me. Trapped inside. They deserve to be free, you know? So everyone can see how cute they are.”

“Pac…”

But then Pac started digging and his barrier broke. Loud laughter immediately followed the hands vibrating in between his ribs, scribbling, looking for any special spot that would make Fit go insane. Not that he was very far from this, now, head being thrown backwards with how strong his crackles were, because nothing in the world could ever prepare him for the feeling that was being tickled, to have each nerve screaming but not in pain, to have each touch bring a new kind of electricity that traveled his torso and filled his heart with a warmth that made him want to jump out of the sofa and at the same time bring Pac closer.

A curious prodding in a spot in his highest ribs that was almost on his back and Fit slammed his body on the cushion, a snort being pried from his lips and quickly being followed by another and another when the fingers kept drilling and kneading on the spot non stop.

Then he heard it, low as a whisper. “Beautiful….” It came in an awed voice, and in between half lidded eyes Fit saw the one with black hair shake his head, as if getting himself together before slowing down the tickling, thumbs rubbing the remnant tickles as he stared at him. “Sorry, Fitch, I, caham, I got, uh, distracted. Are you okay?” He nodded, chuckles taking over his words and disappearing with any hope of saying something without descending in more of a waterfall of giggles. Still, he tried, the proud smile in Pac’s face erasing his embarrassment in how silly he sounded giddy like this. 

“I’m fine, just surprised that I am dating a tickle monster.”

The brazilian laughed, shaking his head and hiding his face on Fit’s shoulder. “Não, não, não (No, no, no). Mike is actually the tickle monster in our team. I just learned a lot from playing fights with him.” Pac trembled in an exaggerated shudder. “He is merciless.”

“Really?”

“Uh hum.” Pac hummed, thoughtful, before doing a little ‘pop’ sound, hands washing down to his sides, tapping senselessly there. “He had this kind of attack where he would be talking to you and suddenly he would start to tickle you and like, it would be really, really light so you didn’t actually, you know, like, died laughing? But at the same time it would be crazily ticklish! Following you around no matter how much you squirmed or snickered.”

“P-pac, come on…”

The other just hummed, still talking and hands still spidering in their resting position, taking turns in between drawing circles on his sides, feeling how his torso would shake with a new round of chuckles blossoming anew, and scratching the little dive of his hips to make them grow faster.

“Then he would try to keep a conversation going and complain like ‘are you even paying attention to what I’m saying, what’s going on?’ as if he didn’t know what was happening, can you believe?! And you couldn’t just… walk away or keep silly giggling non stop and not answer him, because you’re still in a conversation and that would be rude, right? So you’re just there, laughing and wiggling and it always drives me crazy!”

Fit nodded, knowing the feeling very well, in his opinion. His brain trying to pay attention to his words but getting totally distracted by his own attempts to not wiggle around so much because everytime his body trashed to one side, Pac would just dig his fingers on his sides and drum, which made him jump in the other direction only to receive the same treatment, creating a maddening cycle almost impossible to escape from. 

Once again, laughing began flooding the room, high pitches and wheezy giggles chasing around one or two squeals when a tentative squeeze grazed the spot before quickly jumping away, the unexpected playful attacks blending with the soft scribbles and somehow making him not being able to predict nor prepare for one or the other.

“And then, out of nowhere he would get bored and that is where it lies the danger, Fitch.” Pac’s voice took a turn to a lower tune, torn between a warning and a threat. His tickling came to a halt, fingertips just laying on his waist with occasional twitches. What was more strange, though, was how, even so, the janitor couldn’t stop the titters taking over his mind and body. He wondered if that was how he would finally die, undone and destroyed by his very lovely boyfriend. Pac snickered in mischief and amusement, breaking his mask for a couple of seconds before cleaning his throat and coming back to his persona, interlocutor voice back again.

“Because, when he stops it means that he is getting bored. You know that he is getting bored and he knows that you know that he is getting bored and that it is just a matter of time before he decided that is enough and something happens” he highlighted the word by spidering quickly across his ribs. His voice sounded like it was closer. “So you just stay there, quiet, waiting for the moment he will strike.”

Fit held his breath, eyes closed. His smile was so big that it traveled from one ear to the other. No more laughter was falling from his mouth, but his shoulders still bounced with the phantom tickles that freely pricked his skin and seemed to follow his every squirm. Pac’s hands felt warm - dangerous - where they touched and he was pretty sure that his entire face would melt at some point of this game.

He waited.

Waited. Nothing.

A kiss was pressed on his forehead.

He opened an eye, muscles immediately untensing and relaxing with the scene, even if adrenaline still ran without control in his veins, of Pac happily smiling, just a few centimeters from his face.

“Oi, Fitch.”

“Roi, Pa-ACK!”

Loud, uncontrollable and unstoppable laughter filled the room, Fit still tried to finish his sentence before giving up and succumbing to the snorts and wheezing that took over his laughter. Squeezes, drumming and prodding attacked his sides, kneading on the ticklish spot before scratching their way up to his ribs, burying themselves there and then keeping their way up to his armpits - poking and scribbling and making him lock his arms on his torso - until it got to his ears, changing the loud peals of booming laughter to a hysterical string of snickers only to make he go back to crackling when he attacked his sides again and again, alternating between each and every tickle spot so he couldn’t picture where he was going to tickle next. 

Fit could even swear that at some point he felt a squeeze in his knees that fished a chortle from his lips and an uncontrollable kick from his legs.

It lasted only a couple of minutes. All the electricity and tickly buzzing teased and made him laugh like nothing else mattered, loud and free even when, between his own amused giggling, Pac ceased his mean attack and watched with a giant grin as the other tried to regain his breath, a light blush dusting his face.

“You were saying, Fitch?”

Nonsense. That was exactly what Fit was about to say. Because his brain kind of became a mush after all that attack and the airy giggles that kept flowing from his throat didn’t exactly help him to gather his thoughts nor fade the hotness running still on his face.

“I, er, huh…” and there it was, the sentence got lost to jumpy snickers again. Fit brought a hand to hide them and try to gain at least save a bit of face, but a quick poke on his defenseless armpit made it go immediately down again. He glared without any real heat at his boyfriend, who lifted his arms in rendition.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m done for real, now.”

The silence was extended for a few pieces of time, stretching across them like a cat after a nap. 

Fit was the one who broke it.

“That is Mike’s…” He coughed, cleaning his throat “special tickle attack, then? I can see why you call him merciless.”

“Nah, actually that is my own technique. Mike prefers to catch a person out of guard and tickle while taunting them until they promise to make something for him.”

The surprised, amused huff of laughter that came out from the mercenary’s mouth didn’t have anything to do with wiggly fingers this time and Pac joined him. 

“You’re such a sneaky guy, Pac, you’re such a sneaky guy.”

“Thank you. Gotta learn from the best right? Maybe someday me and Ramón will team up and win the hide and seek against you.” 

“Hmm, you probably would. But maybe I can convince Richarlyson to help me?”

“It would be good. Richas is the best in hide and seek. He would really like to. Hey! We should set up a playdate with them in our Hide and Seek arena. We can even call Tubbo and Sunny, maybe even Philza with Chayanne and Tallulah, if they are awake. The more the merrier, right?”

Fit was sure that if he was shapeshifter like Tubbo, without even wanting to, his eyes would be heart shaped. It never ceases to amaze him how Pac could accept and love everyone - him - like they were and would always be a family to him. 

“But, so?” The brazilian wiggled his eyebrows, a smirk opening in his face. “How is it the experience of being tickled for the first time?”

Maddening. Tortuous. Able to make someone go crazy, he was sure. Surprisingly tiring and unexpectedly effective. Strange. Itchy. A lot. Hard to explain.

But also, it was extremely caring. Warm. Soft. Funny. Bonding. Weird. Extremely silly. He couldn’t stop his smile and thoughts about the gleam and shine in Pac’s eyes when he discovered a new spot or how - strangely enough - light and giddy he was feeling right now.

Besides, he never was self conscious about his laughter or anything but listening to Pac calling him… beautiful, in such an amazed voice… Well, his ego really couldn’t complain.

“It was fun.” He decided to go with that, a playful grin in his face, his hands holding Pac’s and intertwining their fingers. 

“Oh, I’m happy in hear that! Actually, I-”

“But…” Fit cut him, purposely deepening his voice in a tune that never failed to catch the other of guard, sending a cold shiver through his muscles. “I can think of something even more fun.”

“Y-yeah?” Pac’s blush deepened when he looked at the dangerous, sharp, determined shine in Fit’s eyes, his entire mind getting overcomed with a choir of excited screams, burning face at realizing how their intertwined hands was both a soft gesture and a restrain. 

Damn, he was really, really gay.

“Uh hm,” his tune now was almost like a purr of a predator watching his prey wobbly smile back and hold his hands tighter together, knowing very well his fate and still not even trying to escape from it. “It’s something that back on 2b2t we liked to call… revenge.”

With a swift move he pulled their hands and lead Pac to lose his equilibrium, falling backwards on his lap, one hand keeping his arms up and the other lifting his hoodie just the slightest bit, the actual perfect amount for him to immediately shove his face on his stomach and start blowing raspberry after raspberry, quick and ruthless.

“FITCHE!” The sound that came out of his mouth could barely be called a word, the high pitched shout being quickly taken over by a hysterical crackling that made his entire body shake with each laughter. 

His boyfriend just chuckled, lifting his head just enough that his next words would be audible to the other, each one buzzing on the ticklish skin and making tiny, tickly electric shocks dance freely across it. “Oh my, Pac, what a delicious belly you got right here. One of the richest, rarest delicacies I’ve ever seen.” 

“NONONO, FITCH!” He kicked and trashed, trying to roll away from his predicament but being firmly held in place by the other, which was kind of nice, since he wasn’t sure how to explain to Fit that he definitely wasn’t going to run away if he had the chance. 

Still, that didn’t stop the fast, airy and high giggles of painting every syllable of his pleas that began flowing like a stream from his lungs, becoming more and more intelligible with each protest. “Please, please, Fitch anything but that! I will do anything you want! Do you wanna know all Mike’s most ticklish spots? Eu posso te dizer! (I can tell you!) he has this place right under his knees that if you poke he starts making ‘wee’ sounds e é muito engraçado (it’s very funny) Fitche por favor, espera, espera, wait!”

“Sorry, Pac, nothing I can do. I just have to try a little. Raspberries are so delicious and I just… I just gotta, ya know? I just gotta try a little, the tiniest little bit.” He lowered his head once again, carefully and softly nibbling on the ticklish skin and doing a bunch of ‘oh nom nom nom’ sounds as he did so, smugly relishing in how louder Pac’s laughter sounded at this, random portuguese and english being mixed in a series of incoherent talking that he couldn't even hope to understand, even with the translator. 

The raspberries and nibbles began taking turns, dancing all across his stomach and sometimes even escaping to attack one lower rib or two in a way that usually drove Ramón crazy. It was kind of funny and endless endearing to realize that both of his boys were extremely weak for the same kind of tickle attack.

All the while Pac was simply dying. There was no other way to describe it. He was utterly and completely dying, losing every tread of.. everything that wasn’t thinking about how much it tickled and laughing both because Fit (Fit!!!!! His boyfriend Fit!!!!) was teasing and tickling him and also because as it seems he was the goofiest dork that ever existed in this world while doing that and somehow that made all the butterflies flying crazy on his belly and tickly electricity following his nerves one hundred times worse and ticklish and it was amazing.

Fit enjoyed a couple more minutes of the silly attack, fondly realizing how much more hysterical and loud the crackles got everytime he added more “hmmm” and “nom nom nom” sounds.

“There we go, big boy.” He lifted his head and got a glimpse of a gigantic, dazzling smile and a red face before Pac immediately hid it behind his hands, wheezes and snickers filling the room.

“Shuhuhut up!”

Fit grinned, but let go of the teasing and took pity on his brazilian boyfriend. He could quite understand why Pac seemed so happy in destroying him minutes ago. There was just a something that made his heart beat faster just in realizing that he was the reason why Pac was so happy and giggly.

Also, the way that the brazilian’s accent got stronger, especially while saying his name in between unstoppable, uncontrollable giggling… Fit thinks he could live with that, yeah.

“Oh my god, Fitche… and you call me merciless.”

The ex-mercenary chuckled. His eyes hovered over Pac’s face, making sure that he was still breathing and alive (he hadn’t taken too far, did he?) when suddenly his look got attracted to his neck, the memory of what started all of this popping like a flashing lamp in his mind.

“Pac…” It was the low voice again, lighter, but still there. Pac’s entire body froze still for a second and alarmed eyes turned to stare Fit, who seemed strangely fixated on his hoodie. “Is your neck ticklish?”

Oh.

Oh.

Pac 100% blamed the gay screaming in his head for his next words.

“YES!” The shout was as excited as it was loud, making both of them wince at it, Fit looking at the one with black hair with a faintly surprised, crooked eyebrows. “I mean, er, assim, uh, no!!! It’s actually not! NOt even a little bit! What even is ticklish, you know? I don’t even speak english, senhor Fitch eme ce, na verdade, essa é a minha primeira vez aqui na ilha, quem é você e… Não!” (sir Fit eme cee, actually, this is my first time here in the island, who are you and… No!)

The babbling was promptly cut when, once again, Fit chuckled in mischief and shoved his head on Pac’s neck. 

Butterfly kisses followed the line of his jaw, attacked that spot under his chin, tickled the place where the collarbone and the neck met, each patch of sensitive skin getting a kiss and a raspberry as a gift, making a series of snorts and high dazed giggles quickly follow the initial surprised shriek and jump around the entire room, Pac’s arms coming to rest on the other’s chest, partially pushing him away and partially holding him, legs kicking behind them with how much adrenaline and giddiness jumped across his muscles and filled his heart.

Pac hid his face on the crook of Fit’s neck, attempting to at least survive a few more seconds from dying of embarrassment, each snort and hysterical high pitched snicker sealing even more his fate and putting another nail in his coffin.

A few curious squeezes on his sides and a final, long raspberry and then Fit finally let him go, watching as the other got his breath again, forgetting for once to hide his blush and brilliant smile into his hoodie, looking completely lost in his own laughing fit. Adorable. 

Sometimes Fit wondered how could he be so lucky.

A loud click and a flashing light brought both of them out of their thoughts. Pac almost falling from the sofa when he turned around and saw Ramón quickly hid a camera behind his back while passing three copies of the pictures to Richas, who stopped making gagging noises to hide them on his protected backpack before the adults could take it.

“Richarlyson, Me dá essas fotos!” (Give me those pictures!) 

“Ramón, what are you doing awake? You should be sleeping. It’s late.”

Ramón had the sense to look at least a tad admonished, but the expression quickly disappeared when Richas began jumping on the same spot, wiggling from one side to another like he always did when he wanted to cause more mischief. The kids exchanged a look.

“Nenê (Baby), no. Don’t follow Richas’ example, he is a little demon.” 

The sandal that went flying across the room and hit the brazilian in the face - which actually led to him falling from the cushions - only further proved this fact. Still, Richas let out plenty of offended noises while getting his sandal back, showing off his tongue when Ramón shoved him and shook his head in disapproval. 

Fit tried his best to not laugh and sound serious. “Richas, do not hit your dad.”

“Don’t worry, Fitch.” Pac tapped his arm, getting up from the floor, tsking. “There is no other way, I guess. I’ll have to kill him. Yeah, it was fun to have a son for a while.”

The mercenary laughed, knowing very well how much of a weak heart Pac had for his little troublemaker. “Calma, calma, Pac. I think I have the solution. Since the kids are feeling so… energetic, we should probably tire them out before putting them back in bed, right?” 

He also got up and gave Pac a Look, pretending to not see Ramón pulling Richas’ sleeve and exchanging warning words to him, knowing very well what that playful, dangerous shine in his dad’s eyes meant.

Pac grinned, mirroring his own devilish expression. “I think you’re right, Fit.”

Richas once again wiggled around in energy, his dragon tail tapping on the floor while Ramón threw a flower at Pac (smart boy, Fit thought, winning the melting heart from the dad that would have more mercy, very smart) and jumped on the same place, smiling and nodding in excitement.

He then pulled Richas away, starting the chase. Pac immediately following behind with joyfuls “I’m gonna catch you!”.

Fit chuckled.

Maybe Pac was right. 

Maybe life - he - was more than just die and kill. 

Well… he rolled his shoulders and followed his family in their game, laughing excitedly. He would have to enjoy it while it lasted, then.

[canisonicscrewyou]

Okay here’s the thing, some of you are asking for the 2019 Aziracrow Cosplay Pics** in my inbox, and upon reflection how could we not. You’re gonna get so much more lore than you could’ve ever asked for or wanted,though. This is a long post, and I almost want to apologize for it. **Pre-HRT baby face pics ahead

For context, Damien and I have known each other since freshmen year of high school, 2012. In fact, we had like no classes together, and whenever one of us mentioned our nerd shit in class the first couple of days, kids kept telling us we HAD to meet each other. We finally met in a history class after they got transferred into it, and exchanged fandom memes back and forth after school on the sidewalk that day until our rides picked us up, and pretty much from then on freshmen year EVERYONE thought and asked if we were two little queer kids dating in our Catholic School.

And of course we weren’t— we just sat in each others’ laps a lot, or grabbed at each other a lot, and were a little inseparable for a while. Neither of us read anything into this. We were also, very importantly, cringey little 14-15 year old SuperWhoLock girlies, only I didn’t watch Supernatural, and they didn’t really watch Doctor Who, and we both thought Sherlock was pretty good. We supplemented our own love for our special little shows for the other. We were so inseparable that Damien’s 1-month-long-freshmen-boyfriend got them a Doctor Who gift for Valentine’s Day. The key to the Eleventh Doctor’s TARDIS. (My favorite, at the time, and also one that I knew they definitely sold at the comic book shop up the block.) They break up with him for giving them chocolates with nuts(allergy), and immediately give my little autistic ass the TARDIS key at lunch. Neither of us read anything into this. This is a common theme.

Damien, at some point, tells me to read a book they love, Good Omens. Due to my brain being the way it is, it takes about 3-4 business years, until college, to read Good Omens at their recommendation.

Damien is one of my best friends throughout high school and college. I also think it’s important to note that they were a jock, and I was a theatre kid. And the only time I convinced them to do something, a haunted house, with the drama club, to share a hobby maybe, they got hit in the head with a lightsaber by a 1st grader and needed stitches immediately after we started.

ANYWAYS.

I get Damien into cosplay a year or so later- 2013? 2014?

But it also takes us years to cosplay together- we would help with each others’ cosplays a lot. By that I mean I built a bunch of their props and they helped by getting the supplies with me and generally just hanging out. It takes us until 2019 to cosplay together.

Good Omens is out on Amazon Prime.

We text each other.

“Do you want to do a couple’s cosplay of this?

Yes, yes of course I do.

And yes, of course you’re Crowley, and of course I’m Aziraphale. And of course I’m Crowley, and of course you’re Aziraphale.”

Pretty much every week that summer, we built our wings from scratch, from wire and masking tape and ethically sourced goose and duck feathers and mall Chinese food. We go out and plan and shop for our gay little outfits. We sit and talk in their car, in my driveway, for ages every time, every night.

Another fun fact: this was the same convention that I painstakingly painted their tits blue for. And also painstakingly helped them wash blue off of in the shower, drunk, later that night. Unrelated, Aziraphale was the first cosplay I felt comfortable in.

Another fun fact: while getting ready for the photo shoot we booked that morning, my family dog scared my cat Almondmilk, and he peed all over my Aziraphale cosplay, and I yelled a bit. Our photographer rescheduled, blessedly, and a few hours later our photographer was asking how we wanted to stage the kiss, since of COURSE there had to be a kiss, but instead we sort of just—

“We’re really good friends— We’ve known each other since high school— We’ve already seen so much of each other this is no big deal— Do you need another shot?”

“Uh-huh,” Our photographer says, knowingly. “I think maybe one more, if we’re comfortable with—“

“Oh yeah, no problem at all-“

“Uh-huh, Yeah,” Our photographer says, knowingly. “Tilt your head up more.”

Not many couples can say they somehow managed to get their first kiss documented and edited in HD.

Damien got nauseous at the last day of the con, and the only thing we had to help were these honey sticks from a tea shop booth. They couldn’t open the little sticks themself, with their fangs in, so I took them and ripped them open with my teeth to give to them. Completely, totally unrelated, though, I think this was the summer I began to realize, perhaps realize once more, that I was so absolutely done for for Damien.

Anyways all of that went SO well, that we were planning every Ineffable Husbands cosplay we could. Somehow, our most logical next choice was a fun and very quick, messy little boudoir photo shoot in my college dorm room, while they were visiting me 3+ hours away from their school.

Down so bad you lovingly pack wigs to go to college with so that you can have your best friend sit in your lap for your little ship.

We did that as Just Good Friends, literally in front of an old friend who took the photos and helped us stage the poses a bit.

We went to sleep that night in that bed. It was big enough to fit 3, maybe even 4 people if you were in a pinch. The bed was not treated like it was that big. (Note, we now sleep on a full sized bed, and it’s suddenly too small.)

And we talked for a while and we went to bed and all I could think about was how much I loved them no matter the sense of the word. And how many nights we sat talking in your car in my driveway for way too long, wondering if I should ask if I could kiss you. (A quick pronoun change, because I know you’re reading this.)

And

Nothing

Came

Of

This

For

LIKE

FOUr

MORE

YEARS.

Just good friends. Just good, good friends.

And that’s how Good Omens helped me realize, in retrospect of 2019, how in love I was with my Crowley best friend.