#also ignore the map and the other sticky notes

[sevdidntdie]

two things I accomplished today

#1: cleaned out this old basket of stuff i found:

two dirty old tennis balls, a giant flashlight, an ordinary-sized flashlight, some binoculars, a ... bubble maker? a small wrench, a bird book, some ... wrist warmers? a ziploc bag containing slippers stolen from Asiana Airlines, and some tennis strings.

#2: fixed up my collection of @avianii's origami:

oh right and her sticky note drawing

forgot about that

anyway productive evening!!

#anii it is a GOOD DRAWING #and you are NOT a “mid artist” #please don't kill me i forgot it was there when i took the pic #also ignore the map and the other sticky notes #alex rambles #origami #origami birds #origami planes #cleaning #miscellany

[vaniliens]

Deep cover Interest points!!

A collection of really messy notes I got from my 2nd viewing of Deep Cover, feel free to ignore this or read through it idc!! Definitely changed my mind after seeing other people's thoughts.

TL;DR : Dunno what the chess pieces mean. Also i think the girl in the MV is the only kid she managed to save, and Kotokos horrified that the girl looks up to her.

The room Kotoko & the shadows & chess pieces are in get more and more damaged as the mv goes on, also it looks like the table /room from the other milgram media (the guard girl manga specifically, idk about the other novel) this is also probably her mind space.

The chess pieces all look different & i cant really tell whos what, also the chess piece Kotoko is breaking in the thumbnail is Fuuta's. On another note, they put a special focus on Mahiru's broken piece. Man. Also neither Es nor Kotoko get a chess piece. Theres the Scale of justice piece but it could just represent Milgram as a whole.

The scene Before that actually- Looks like the girl was tied up using the pieces of orange fabric(?) (At least according to my sister). The girl hugs her and she kind of tugs on her?? And she seems horrified? Maybe she knows she shouldnt be someone this girl is looking up to.

She's looking at Kazui's chess piece, probably because he's the one who stopped her. Im not sure whos piece is broken in that shot. And then she looks at Amanes (Because she didnt get to beat her up) then at more broken pieces, right before the shot of her holding Mikoto's pieces. Maybe the broken pieces in Kazuis shot is Fuuta's and the one before Mikoto is Mahiru's? Because he didn't get to Mahiru in time?? Idk.

At this point of the MV the shadow of the werewolf form Kotoko later takes starts running in the. Shadows. It could just be foreshadowing for her turning into a monster later on in the MV but idk it could be more.

The rooms now covered in scratches and Kazuis piece is down, and Amane & Mikoto's broken. This is probably what her ideal outcome is. Maybe the scratches represent her frustration because she failed her duty. Also its in bisexual lighting now, and she's smirking at the end. My sister thinks this sequence represents her plans for 'Next time' or 'Next trial'. The bisexual lighting seems to represent her regrets (Blue) and anger (Pink?)

The Next shots are of her up on the table with the broken pieces flying around her, the unforgiven prisoners' are circling around her left hand. This is probably just her trying to mentally establish herself or at least having the powers that Es does, having control over the prisoners.

Also on a side note- you see how theres a ring in her middle finger. The middle finger is the longest finger on your hand, this can represent her seeing herself as someone on a higher position than others or at least the 4 guilty prisoners. Gets even better when you realize if you "knock down" those other prisoners you get a very offensive hand sign, which can represent her aggressive nature (THIS IS A JOKE)

Apart from a few sticky notes and 3 outlined places on the map, everything else on the corkboard has been scribbled off. Also she's sitting on the floor with her hood up, not the chair. Maybe she failed to locate the target or the mission entirely. The wolf from the 1st MV is also gone, but theres fur on the chair... oooh what happened there.

the next shot is of her scrolling through an article while the child shows her and then wears a hat with a "Lucky" logo. From everything that ive gathered im convinced that this girl might be the only kid who Kotoko saved. Maybe Kotoko didn't get to the others fast enough, hence all the scribbles, why this girl is the only one in the MV, why she's wearing the hat, why Kotoko seems horrified that the kid is hugging her, why she won't even look at her in this scene when she pats her, why Kotoko would scare her off after she comes up to her, etc. Also Id love to get a translation of what the article says.

So the kid runs up to her in public after waiting a while, and Kotoko says or does something that causes her to get scared or at least shocked. This is probably on purpose. We get a shot of her walking away with her red hoodie on, and I noticed that the light in her eyes are gone- UNTIL she looks at the kid (Or at least the viewers POV), where it starts shining like normally for a few frames, her expression also softens a little (Looks a little less scary at least)- And then she turns her back.

Her expression is back to being angry and then she walks into yellow smoke. I do not know what this yellow smoke represents. I do not know Why her eyes start to glow or why she's suddenly really agitated.

But she's back in her sad & angry mental space now, she drops her body and the shadow from behind her turns into a monster. Worth noting that this is also when shes singing "Give me the next target" but Again!!! Im not smart enough to dissect this enough. Also the chairs are now broken as well.

The Moon turns pink (A red moon yay) and she transforms into a monster, or a werewolf. She calls Haruka a 'doltish parasite' as her teeth & fangs are shown, with Haruka's piece broken and splattered in Danganronpa blood?

Same happens with the next innocent prisoners, Calls Yuno an 'obscene slut' as it shows her claws, Muu an 'incessant Phony queen' as it shows her wolf Legs? (????? Could be a reference to how she was running to Rei during After Pain idk ??????), Calls shidou a 'doomed dissection pawn' as it shows (almost) her whole wolf form (Connect this with Shidou saying he'll 'Extract that fang', im not sure how though), Kazui a 'Concealing deceiver' as it shows her ears & back (Probably the least threatening parts of the wolf, yknow. Concealing his true. claws & fangs how do I word this), and finally calls Es an 'inept guard' while her wolf form stares at the camera. Es doesnt have a piece, so.

We get a shot of Kotoko AND the Monster covered in blood!!! Not sure where the blood came from since she was clean before this. Seems like she mauled & ate or at least bit someone, because of where the blood splattered from (Her mouth/ face & as we see later her hands, i dont see where else the blood has been splattered from, certified Jacques Roulet reference.)

We get a shot of her eyes twitching and in distress!! ALMOST like the one from the beginning but her pupils are getting smaller now and she seems almost insane.

Shes gripping the scale of justice. Other than her face, it seems like theres blood on her hands. But Specifically mostly only on her fingers. Theres only drops & splatters on her palm and below.

#nillas #milgram #kotoko yuzuhira

[mrbexwrites]

Happy STS!

This week I’m asking about the writing process – I’m curious to see how people do it.

Do you refer to anything as you write? E.g. pictures, calendars for the timeline, maps to measure travelling distance? Basically, what references, if any, do you keep on your desk/always open in another window while writing?

Hi Sam!

Happy STS, and thanks for the ask!

My writing process is a bit chaotic, for a self-described planner!

I have a notebook with the story outline which contains all the major scenes that I want to write to progress the story, but once I start writing, those pesky characters tend to deviate and go off on their own. So I either have to rein them back in, find a work around to get when I need them to be, or find a new path to get back on track! It's certainly taken some of WIPs in weird and wonderful directions!!

I try to do as much research as possible when it comes to the topics that I write about- I have a Google Doc for each WIP which contains all the links to webpages that I've used for research so that I can go back and check things if/when needed (mostly when!!) I add to it as I go, as I often find myself having to do some ad hoc research on the fly due to the aforementioned plot/character deviations, so those links get added to the doc.

I also like to be a bit old school and read textbooks that I pick up second hand, or that I have from my time in education (I studied forensic psychology, so have lots of old books on crime scenes, the criminal justice system, people's motives etc etc) that I like to annotate, and add sticky notes to. (Side note- I am a sucker for sticky tab page markers and a smooth highlighter pen. So satisfying!)

I like to collect all the bits and bobs in a notebook. In the past, when I was writing more High Fantasy, rather than Urban, I would doodle maps, family trees, keep a note of made-up words/slang and their meanings etc.

It's all a bit chaotic, having to jump between the different places that I keep everything, and I can get muddled at times- especially with my timelines (as well you know! Which is why I try to keep them vague, but I appreciate that this is detrimental for the reader, so it's something that I'm going to work on! I promise!)

I've seen a lot of other Writblrs mention Scrivener, and I've sort of halfheartedly looked into it. I think it's a tool that I would find useful, but given that I don't even know what I want to do with my WIPs once they're finished, at the moment I don't think it's something that I can justify spending money on. (I've seen folk mention that they often get money off vouchers after NaNo, so I'll maybe look into it more then? I tend to ignore all the NaNo emails and rewards at the end of Nov. I'm in it for the certificate, and the motivation it brings; I'm a terrible procrastinator, and struggle to carve out time to write- although, this hellsite (affectionate) and all the others writblrs on here, yourself included, have been a great source for motivating me, and making me want to write, even if it's just so that I can keep up with all the tag games- as otherwise, you'd just have the same snippets shared over and over again!!)

Once I've finshed a WIP, it just sort of languishes in Google Docs. I used to handwrite my stories, and try to edit them when I typed them up, but editing isn't my forte, as I lack the technical skills for line editing etc, and I've only just had my first beta feedback (thank you again! I will pay you back in Party Rings at some point!!) which has been a really helpful exercise for me. So still learning on the next steps on what other people do after you've actually finished a first draft!

So yeah, that's my process- if you can call it that! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#I guess you can call it a process #more unhinged ramblings #STS #answered asks

[dorimena]

may i have aizawa or todoroki where they're in a meeting and the reader is controlling the vibrator in their hole 👉👈 (also can I be 🍦 anon as well?)

Of course you may! Aizawa’s came to mind first, but I’ll be sure to also post Todoroki’s later this week, so your sin is multiplied. And yes, you can! 𝖂𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖙, 🍦 anon (๑˘︶˘๑)

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; aizawa shouta

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 2.0k,

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; sex toy (vibrating butt plug), public sex, slight exhibitionism, implied humiliation kink, implied degradation kink, implied bondage, implied edging, cursing, dom!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; gender-neutral reader, Aizawa wanted to impress you, sidekick is a voyeur, Aizawa suffering to not show he’s actually a bottom is beautiful.

𝖁𝖎𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖊.

“Don’t you dare think about it.”

He shakily grumbles to you, closing his eyes momentarily as he tries to compose himself again, crossing his arms to make himself seem unbothered. After all, it’s not every day he’s wearing a vibrating buttplug in public.

“Dare think about what, Eraserhead?” The CEO of some hero agency’s voice asked curiously.

Shit. Now everyone is looking at him. Why is he even wearing this thing?

Oh right.

Before the impromptu meeting about some tip of the whereabouts of another underground drug trafficking ring, he was in the middle of preparing a… surprise for you, when you came back home from wherever you went. But you somehow found out beforehand, because you showed him how the control was in your possession after you caught up with him in the hallway on your way to the same meeting.

So here he is, wearing a promised ‘super intense’ vibrations, black silicone with a matching ‘diamond’ butt plug under his luckily loose hero outfit. 

Grunting to subtly clear his voice and keep it steady, he looks back at the addressing man.

“You want to simply use us to continue patrolling the same areas everyone else seemed to map out already. That-”

You interrupt his answer by turning up the intensity a bit, knowing it’s most definitely poking at his sensitive spot by now. You’ve seen his sly attempts of shifting and adjustment. You’re humming, looking over at him to see how his mouth has clamped shut but his lips are trembling. His body’s rigid, tense, and his back has straightened up considerably. You’re pretty sure you heard him moan lowly.

“Eraserhead?” The man asked again, raising an eyebrow at the sudden loss of words while the room falls silent- shit, they can’t know about the vibrator! Aizawa doesn’t even know how loud it is, he only cleaned it and skipped the trial part.

Swallowing harshly, he hopes his voice isn’t going to betray him and is loud enough to cover up the mysterious buzzing. You aren’t going to be nice with this apparently.

“Th-that we should begin the next s-step…” Never mind, guess his voice fucking hates him and his train of thought.

“I’ll, uh, take that into consideration, and I suppose it could lessen…” and whatever is said after that leaves Aizawa´s focus as you increase the vibrations again, making his thighs want to match the speed and his mind suddenly scream at him to ‘keep yourself composed.’

A vibrator is nothing new.

A butt plug is nothing new.

A vibrating butt plug is new, and doing it in public during an important fucking meeting is making him feel a lot that it’s overwhelming him.

You aren’t even going to let him think or compose himself as you move a little closer to his side, acting like you’re paying attention to what the others are saying, before pinching his inner thigh. 

No one’s paying attention to you two anymore and are starting to get loud, and you wanted him to see that before you murmur.

“Thank you for the gift. I’ll make sure to use it to its full potential.” Now that has him suddenly praying for whichever higher celestial being is there to hear him to please, please, please not let anyone catch on to what’s going to happen.

So, you turn the vibration up a few more settings, holding back a laugh of amusement as he jerks violently in his chair and your hand finds itself trapped between his quivering, muscular thighs, that soon enough begin bouncing as he tries to find purchase on something, anything. His hands gripping the fabric covering his arms isn’t helping. Leaning forward to rest an elbow on the table and resting his forehead on his palm, he uses his other free hand to wrap around your wrist near him because the feeling of your skin touching him always keeps him grounded. Surely this doesn’t look suspicious.

To anyone who would be looking, it just looks like you’re trying to not let the unnecessary noise get to him, but really he’s desperately whispering “slow down, s-slow down!” as he tries swallowing any other embarrassing noise that should only be heard in the bedroom, and soon enough gripping your wrist harder, trying to make your trapped hand touch his aching bulge, twitching for attention.

A strangled whine escapes his dried throat, and that catches the attention of some random sidekick nearby. And when you turn the toy off, Aizawa huffs in disappointment before glaring over at the younger male. It’s enough to have the sidekick smile awkwardly before turning away, feigning ignorance to whatever he might’ve heard.

Now that the coast is quickly cleared, you lean in to swiftly ‘fix’ his weapon and with a hush tell him not to “let anyone know” before turning up the intensity again, this time making sure it’s at the highest the small machine can offer.

Remember when he said he was promised it to be ‘super intense’? He regrets it. He really, really regrets it.

He quickly tries grabbing whatever part of his binding cloth is closest with his mouth to help gag, at least muffle, his sharp cry of your name, gritting his teeth as he tries not to be louder than the debate happening. But with the tip of the butt plug pressing really hard onto his prostate, he can’t help jerking his hips forward and back while letting out airy whines of anything yet nothing.

You’re just watching his reactions, drinking in every slip of noise he makes. You know he’s going to slip up sooner or later, with the way his hips are slowly losing control and his legs are twitching too much to not pass off as suspicious.

Even his cute whines are becoming wanton moans of your name, the binding cloth being forgotten as he loses concentration. He can feel how wet his boxers are, how sticky they feel against his hardened member that twitches on tempo with his thighs. He needs you to touch him there. Please, please, please.

“Pl-please?” He exhales shakily, choking on a small groan as your right hand wiggles around to free itself from his weakening grip.

Before you could answer, you hear someone call his name. Quickly turning off the toy, your left hand lets go of the control in your pocket as you place it on his forehead.

“Eraserhead, are you alright?” The same man from earlier asked. You wonder why he’s so attentive.

“No, sir. He seems to be picking up a fever.” You finish with a worried expression morphing onto your face.

“Oh, then he should go home-”

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but it’s best if he stays. He wouldn’t have come if you’re just gonna send him home.”

You’re so clever, knowing how to justify his loose composure and charm the head prohero behind this mission. He would’ve continued mentally praising it, but he was rudely interrupted since you decided to turn the toy back on to the highest setting.

“O-Oh shiiiiit.” He hisses, opening his legs as he just accepts and welcomes this sensation. This is definitely out of his usual character, but having this butt plug thing tease him for hours, even when off, it was enough to keep him horny and just be ready to satisfy the ache in his dick and the burning desire running throughout his body.

Hell, he’ll even call you whatever you want if it means you’ll let him cum sometime soon so he can pay attention to what’s going on.

Who cares if he’ll walk around with sticky cum on his thighs or leaking through to his pants. That’s the good thing about wearing black.

You eventually decreased the speed so that it’s at a somewhat safe setting, not wanting to overwhelm him so soon after covering his ass, but also to see how long this could drag. He did say it was your gift, so let’s take it to its fullest potential.

Hours passed since you’ve had this toy buzzing inside of him, and even if he’s supposed to feel grateful, he feels more frustration than gratitude. Sure, you’re being considerate, that way he was able to properly take part and become a little more attentive with the meeting, but his painful erection and oversensitive prostate would love to oppose.

Luckily, the meeting looks like it's coming to an end, and even with his occasional hiccupped whines and hushed moans, you’ve grown bored of such constant reactions and you’re missing his outstanding earlier performance. Surely nothing bad is going to happen; he’s put off his ‘fever’ for so long.

It’s time to help him. Pity he’s talking right now.

“So, we’ll send these g-guys... fuck.” Aizawa whispered the last part, twitching with the sudden increase of the speed.

“What was that?”

Just as he was going to reply, you finished increasing up to the last setting once more, humming curiously while the same ‘worried’ expression from before appeared on your face.

His face is completely red, whether in shame, embarrassment, in flushed pleasure, who knows. His eyes are quivering as his brain tries to register the overwhelming intensity of the vibrations, and he thinks he can even feel it in his brain.

He quickly dismisses whatever he was going to say with a singular hand motion, sliding his notes towards you so that you can finish sharing his idea to the others before they turn their eyes on someone else.

Even if the attention isn’t on him anymore, he can’t help but like the idea that they already know what’s going on, with the way the same sidekick from before is also blushing and seems fidgety. He’s trying so hard not to rub himself against your pliant hand, which you never finished slipping away, but he’s so, so sure if he does feel you, he’ll just sob.

It’s too much.

“T-too mu-uch. T-turn i-it down- augh.” He’s trying his best to whisper, but really he’s so overwhelmed he dumbly moans it out into your ear.

You shake your head, ‘accidentally’ brushing your fingertips over his bulge. If only this toy had another setting, maybe that would help make him shameless.

His eyes and throat are burning, shame eating away at his stomach before being overcome slowly by the need to cum. Has he always been this dirty? This easy to let defile? No, god no, but with you he can’t help it. Why else would he have bought a ‘super intense’ black silicone with a matching ‘diamond’ butt plug? It’s obvious he wanted to show it off, be a good boy for you, to treat you right.

So, seeing how you don’t want to turn it down and kind of going against your words of not letting anyone know, this is what you truly want, right? Him not-so-quietly and not-so-nonchalantly lose control over everything going on, with the slight exception of his breathing, while you continue to expose him like this to an uninterested crowd. Maybe he would like a crowd to watch him and mock him? Maybe call him a slut while giggling about how disgusting he is? Being tied up and strapped with a bunch of more vibrators all over his body? Being covered in so much cum he’s too dirty to be touched by anyone?

His grip with himself is loosening and his hips are trying to chase after your fingers or try to grind down some more onto the butt plug. Combining his growing need with his shameless fantasy, he couldn’t warn you properly, or himself, before he abruptly cums hard in his pants, a sob of “please” muffled by  your quick right hand and the one with the remote lowers the speed so it helps ride out his unexpected high and not hurt him. 

The only thing is, that you forget just how long his orgasms can last with just butt play. It’s a toe curling, leg shaking, dick exploding orgasm. It’s enough to suddenly make you wonder if he’ll be able to walk on stable legs.

The meeting ends with everyone confirming all conclusions while you’re whispering sweet affirmations and praises into his ear, pressing your palm harder onto his mouth with every other sob of your name, shameless dumb moaning and the occasional hiccups of gratitude.

Now, how to bribe the poor horny sidekick who has been not-so-secretly watching this whole ordeal into staying quiet?

#🍦 anon #✿; impurity #bnha smut #aizawa smut #aizawa x reader #mha smut #𝖆𝖎𝖟𝖆𝖜𝖆 #ლ; blasphemy

[dearcat1]

Hi there! I absolutely adore Xanxu's parenting adventures, but I could only find 8 & 9. Is there a tag I can check out for the others? Sorry for the bother, super excited to read it! Thank you for writing it!

Screw it hahaha that tag is not working no matter what I do about it. I'm just going to post everything that's already published here. So: sorry about the long post.

And for anybody who's interested in reading it, I'm putting the next ones under "parenting adventures au". That should be a better tag.

I hope you like it! I meant for it to be cute.

[Xanxus’s terrible bad day]

Part 1 of Xanxus’s Parenting Adventures

Xanxus does not, in any way shape or form, appreciate mad scientists. He spits out the blood, cleaning up the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. The other hand keeping a tight grip on his remaining x-gun. Irritated, he just keeps glaring at the toddler whimpering in front of him. 

Seriously?

What the fuck!

How is this even his life, Xanxus doesn't know but he demands a fucking raise. And all the goddam alcohol. All of it. Every single fucking drop.

This is ridiculous. The enemy is dead and even Xanxus feels a little uncomfortable with the amount of blood and dead bodies surrounding a two-year-old. Or what looks like a two-year-old, in Xanxus rather uninformed opinion. 

Brat picks himself up, eyes still watery and then… oh no, oh no, no, no. He makes grabby hands at Xanxus. Xanxus sneers, uncomfortable but the newly miniaturized Sawada just pouts stubbornly, stumbling on wet sticky blood as he tries to make his way to the older Sky. 

Xanxus's reaction is pure instinct. He lunges forward, grabs the kid by the back of his overly large hoodie and pulls him up. Brat settles on Xanxus's hip, tiny face hidden against Xanxus's shoulder and the Wrath stands there, feeling more than a little awkward. 

Alright, then, he thinks. Fuck it. So an armful of mini-mini-Sawada in one arm, a gun in the other hand. Base full of dead people who are either already dead or soon to be. Because Xanxus is through like that. 

Clearing his throat, Xanxus hoists the brat up a little more and stalks out of the room. Cleaning up the base is easy enough, finding Byakuran's little note on the desk should be more of a surprise than it is. 

"Have fun on your vacation! You can bond now ~ :3"

Right, Xanxus needs a raise, all the alcohol, and a marshmallow enthusiast killing season. 

[Cabin by the sea]

Part 2 of Xanxus's Parenting Adventures

Finding the little cabin by the sea is easy enough with the handy map the marshmallow freak left for them. Mini-mini-Sawada is a surprisingly obedient toddler so Xanxus is still uncomfortable but at least he isn't deaf from crying fits. 

The only time the brat had cried, it had been silent sad tears that managed to make Xanxus feel like an ass when the brat confessed to being hungry. 

Note to self: brats need food. 

So Xanxus had settled in in the little cabin, laid the brat down on the smaller bed for the night and thrown himself to his own bed, intent on waiting this shit out. 

Except that he'd been woken up in the middle of the night by a toddler sneaking into his bed and now Xanxus can't sleep because mini-mini-Sawada is tiny. As in smaller than Xanxus's chest tiny and Xanxus is not a good man, he's not a kind man. 

But there's a toddler sleeping on his chest, all trust and far too delicate limbs and Xanxus finds himself terrified of falling asleep because what if when he does, he moves and crushes the little brat under him? Then the brat would suffocate and die. 

And yes, Xanxus could, potentially, just pick up the brat and return him to his own bed. But what if he doesn't wake up the next time the brat sneaks in? Because if Xanxus has learned something these last couple of days is that mini-mini-Sawada might be mellow but he also has a stubborn bone that won't be reasoned with.

In the end, Xanxus ends up staying awake all night, staring at the ceiling with a hand keeping the toddler in place, just in case he rolls over and falls to his death or something. He waits until the hour changes from absolutely ridiculous to marginally decent to leave the bed.

Doing stuff with a toddler on his arm is easier now that he has practice, his morning routine is no different. It's just when he reaches the point of taking a shower that he finds himself at a loss. They stink, they need to wash. Xanxus has no idea how to clean a brat and he's pretty sure that toddlers don't wash themselves. 

Xanxus looks longingly at his phone and snarls, ignoring mini-Tsunayoshi stirring in his arm. "Fucking dimension without YouTube. What the fuck."

[Watery warfare]

Part 3 of Xanxus's Parenting Adventures

Xanxus decides on the bathtub for practicality. It seems like a bath would be easier to handle with a toddler than a shower. Especially a sleepy, clingy toddler. Except that the second Xanxus set the brat down, brat went absolutely fucking insane. 

Watching bemusedly as the brat slaps the water around, Xanxus ignores the mess it's making on the floor and chuckles. "Yeah? Show it who's the boss, shitty brat." 

Tsunayoshi just screams louder, cackling like a maniac.

"Yeah, yeah." Shrugging, Xanxus sits down on the tub, ready to wash himself. He'll clean up mini-mini-Sawada after.

Mini-mini-Sawada has other ideas, however. As soon as Xanxus settles down, the toddler reaches for him and Xanxus helps him sit beside him, lest he falls down and drowns. "What? I thought you were in the middle of a war, trash. Can't just abandon that, you know?" 

The toddler just sticks his fingers in the shampoo Xanxus has just poured into his hand.

"No, that's not for you." Xanxus rolls his eyes, scrubbing his hair and ignoring mini-Tsunayoshi watching him curiously. Ok, so maybe Xanxus might be developing a bit of a soft spot for the toddler. Maybe. It's just… the brat's flames might still be dormant at this age but that doesn't change the fact that whatever is still there… it resonates with Xanxus. 

And that's a relief. It is, because it means that Xanxus might not be Timoteo's but he's still Vongola enough for this. Besides, the resonance helped Xanxus get over his initial 'ew, baby' aversion and is probably the reason the brat was so quick to trust Xanxus.

He wonders if it'll translate to the grown Sawada, once he returns. 

There's just something about mini-mini-Sawada, so small, so breakable and so trusting, that makes Xanxus feel a little protective.

[Shopping trip]

Part 4 of Xanxus’s Parenting Adventures

It takes Xanxus about a week to concede that this won't be a quick matter. Which means that they need clothes. Xanxus could, in theory, keep washing his uniform daily and it wouldn't be a problem. Except he's fucking tired of doing laundry and the brat can't keep wearing the same oversized hoodie for days on end. 

He turns to look at mini-mini-Sawada, who is curled up in Bester's flank, fast asleep, and sighs. It seems they're going shopping.

Which is easier said than done. Unearthing the wad of cash and credit card the marshmallow freak left behind is easy enough, taking mini-mini-Sawada is easy as well. As long as Xanxus doesn't put him down, they're alright. 

No, the issue comes from the clerk who is watching Xanxus like he's wondering whether he should seek the police on him for kidnapping. But Xanxus is still a Sky, no matter that he doesn't do the polite charming shit that Tsunayoshi and Cavallone are so fond of. 

"We had a little accident," Xanxus shrugs, gruff. "He needs clothes." 

Still, the clerk seems unsure until mini-mini-Sawada straightens in Xanxus's hold to point at something in the store. "Ansus! Beste! Look, Beste!" 

Bester, Xanxus knows, is back in his box but he turns to look all the same. He takes a good look at the white cat plushie and laughs. "Yeah, that's Bester alright."

Ignoring the now bemused clerk, Xanxus makes his way to that rack and offers Mini-Tsunayoshi the plushie. The toddler grabs it instantly, cuddling it to his chest and Xanxus snorts, catching a look at bath toys down the ail. Well, fuck it. They're spending Byakuran's money anyway, might as well treat themselves.

"Come on, you need ammunition for your next bath."

It is entirely possible that Xanxus got a little shopping happy but he gives about zero shits, the tiny shirt with a printed 'Mini-Boss' on it is Xanxus's absolute favourite. 

He buys his own clothes quickly and makes a bee-line for the cabin, mini-mini-Sawada cheerfully waving goodbye to the shopping mall.

[Nap]

Part 5 of Xanxus’s Parenting Adventures

What the fuck, Xanxus thinks, bemusedly. It should have been fine. The weather had been nice and the cabin has a nice piece of beach right there so Xanxus had taken the brat out and yes, maybe, Xanxus took advantage of the nice weather to take a nice nap.

But it should have been fine, Bester had been napping with the brat. Covered by the shade. And the brat never wanders off anyway. Bester would have woken Xanxus up if something had happened or handled it himself.

And yet, here they are. 

Xanxus wakes up to find Tsunayoshi sitting next to a hole, definitely of Bester’s making and lapping the water from it? 

He has questions, Xanxus has so many questions. 

First, how did they get water inside the hole? Where does this water come from? Also, why? Bester looks too damn proud of himself, Xanxus adores him but right now, he’s not sure he trusts the liger. Tsunayoshi laps the water again, makes a disgusted face and repeats. “What the fuck?”

Laughing helplessly, Xanxus stands up, patting the sand off of his clothes. “What are you doing, you little shit?” He picks mini-Tsunayoshi up, settling him on his hip.

The brat tries to reach for Bester, “juice?”

“No,” Xanxus chortles, gesturing for Bester to follow. “That’s not juice, trash. That’s seawater at best. What the fuck.”

“Fuck!”

“Shit,” Xanxus picks up their stuff with their other hand and makes his way back inside the cabin to hunt down some juice. “Your parents are going to lose their shit over that, aren’t they?” Toddlers usually don’t use curse words, he knows that much. Then, he remembers that the father in question is fucking Iemitsu and shrugs it off.

[Tuna-fishy]

Part 6 of Xanxus’s Parenting Adventures

They get returned to their original universe about 4 months in, to them at least. It looks like they’ve been gone for barely a week on their own. Xanxus doesn’t care about that, he’s more concentrated on the strained little smile Byakuran is sending to mini-mini-Sawada. 

“What!?” Xanxus snaps, ignoring the toddler’s face hidden against his neck. Brat is shy, that’s all.

“Aaah, yes,” Byakuran shifts uncomfortably, sending a bemused look Xanxus’s way before looking back down to Sawada. “That wasn’t part of the plan?”

“Are you fucking asking?” Xanxus ignores mini-mini-Sawada trying to share his crumpled snack and twitches, debating the virtues of calling Bester or seeking his elements on this moron. 

Iemitsu, apparently, decides that’s his moment to shine. Bastard has been starry-eyed since the second he caught sight of the toddler in Xanxus’s arms. And no, Xanxus is, in no way, shape or form, annoyed by this. The consigliere steps forward, big goofy smile on his face, “Tuna-fishy! Come to papa!”

And mini-Tsunayoshi loses his shit, loses it completely. As in loud screams and tears and a grip hard enough on Xanxus’s shirt that the Wrath wonders for a second whether he’ll rip it. Xanxus reacts on instinct because he’s been looking after this tiny brat for months now.

He shifts his weight to put distance between his toddler and the idiotic blonde and points his gun directly between the asshole’s eyes. His elements react with him, of course, and Xanxus finds himself bracketed between Squalo and Lussuria, all traces of humour lost. 

“What the fuck, trash?” The question is met with silence but all of them saw the way the toddler’s mostly dormant flames recoiled from the man. 

Byakuran steps forward, hands up in placation. “Now, now, no need for this.” He lays a restraining hand on Sawada’s shoulder, “I do believe it might be sweet Tsuna’s nap time?”

Xanxus takes the out, pivoting from his spot but not holstering his gun until he makes it all the way to the car. The brat is still making his best impression of a limpet and Xanxus sighs, cleaning some of the tears off the kid’s face. 

“Fuck, Ansus,” the brat mutters sadly into the fabric of his plushie.

“Yeah, yeah, what the fuck.”

Somewhere in the background, Lussuria coos.

[Apple Slices]

Part 7 of Xanxus’s Parenting Adventures.

Xanxus wakes up with a tiny brat nestled on his stomach and Bester stretched out by his side. Right. He starts the morning routine without thinking much about it before he remembers that they’re not in the little cabin by the beach anymore. 

And by remembers, he means he gets forcibly reminded by Squalo breaking down his door with a “voi! Wake up, shitty boss!” Lusurria trailing happily after the swordsman with breakfast in hand. 

“You trash!” Xanxus growls quietly, “if you wake up the little brat, you’re dealing with the pouting!”

Luckily for all of them, the toddler has migrated to Bester’s flank while Xanxus went around preparing the things needed for the bad and is now busy sleeping away, face buried in his plushie. 

“And get more napkins,” at Lussuria's odd look he adds, "brat's a messy eater."

Though now it seems like they'll be eating before bathing which is actually more practical. Why hadn't he thought of that? Doesn't really matter, this is how they will do things now. He picks up his own plate and eats quietly, ignoring Squalo's attempts to get Xanxus to do paperwork with the ease of long practice. Only once he's done he goes to pick mini-Tsunayoshi up, settling the sleepy toddler on his lap.

Tsunayoshi is more asleep than awake but he’s docile enough. “Juice?”

Xanxus’s mouth twitches up, “yeah, sure.”

Lussuria squeals, offering him a glass and Xanxus just knows, with one look, that shit is going to get messy. He accepts the apple slice being shoved into his mouth and says nothing. Luss can deal with this shit. "It's good," Xanxus approves, giving the brat another.

Mini-Mini-Sawada bites half of it off and then promptly falls asleep, slumping bonelessly to the side. Xanxus catches him before he can fall off, caught between incredulity and laughter. "The fuck?"

(Juice)

Part 8 of Xanxus’s Parenting Adventures

Xanxus stalks into his office with mini-mini-Sawada on his hip. The Varia as a whole are smart enough to know that if he has one arm tied up in keeping the toddler in place, it means he still has one hand free to shoot them dead. “You trash,” he growls at the closest grunt, “bring me my wine!”

“Juice!” Mini-mini-Sawada adds, waving happily.

“And juice,” Xanxus adds, patting mini-mini-Sawada’s head agreeably. He lets the brat down on the floor inside his office, eyeing the paperwork. Fuck that thing, honestly. 

By mini-mini-Sawada’s side, Bester chuffs gently, picking the toddler up by the back of his shirt and settling him between his paws. Mini-Tsunayoshi turns to hug the liger as best he can, happily waving his stuffed toy around and babbling up whatever comes through his head.

Toys, Xanxus decides, they're going to need those. Is two years old too young for a toy gun? Hmm… Well now he has google, doesn't he? Oh look, Timoteo's weekly ridiculous requests. He picks them up with a snort, fishing for some pencils in the drawer. "Here," Xanxus offers them to his brat, "this is your portion."

Mini-Mini-Sawada has taken to imitating everything Xanxus does. If Xanxus indulges him, it's simply because it makes things easier and no other reason whatsoever. He ignores the happy little squeal, smirking at his paperwork. When Squalo comes to pick up their finished piles, he makes a face at the brat's handiwork.

Xanxus glares, absent-mindedly cleaning the toddler's face after their snack. 

Squalo just huffs, irritably pushing his hair out of his face. "Voi, FINE! Don't complain to me if they bitch!"

"Fuck that trash," Xanxus doesn't care about what they want. 

"Trash!" His toddler smashes his juice box in agreement. Xanxus lips twitch. Ok, so he's a little fond.

(Strategy)

Part 9 of Xanxus's Parenting Adventures 

Timoteo knows something is going on the moment that the door opens for the Varia's scheduled paperwork drop and it's not only Squalo coming through it but also Mammon and Lussuria. He has half of the Varia in his office when it usually takes months of cajoling to get so much as one other than Squalo. And even then, for this very same dropoff. 

But the Varia are a lot like cats, there's no use in pushing them too much. You have to dangle the bribe and wait for them to come to you. So Timoteo doesn't show hesitation, he simply settles in to give their paperwork a quick check. There's never any blood but he does get a kick out of seeing the progressively more ridiculous fake signatures over the line with his son's name.

This time, it's a toddler’s handprint in ink so strong that some of the text is no longer legible. Timoteo blinks once, twice and then looks up at the gleeful faces of the Varia Officers. "What is this?"

"The mini-boss," Mammon begins, smug and greedy, "is living up to his name,"

Oh, Timoteo realizes, thumbing through the paperwork with new eyes and finding the sort of drawings he hasn't seen in over a decade. Iemitsu had been over yesterday, Timoteo had listened to his ramblings with half an ear but now it's starting to make sense. It hadn't been Iemitsu's usual delusions, Tsunayoshi really is a toddler now. Carefully, Timoteo picks the drawings from the rest of the papers. "Name your price."

Squalo smirks, "vacation. One week, full expenses covered, anywhere we want."

"Done," Timoteo stretches his hand, waiting patiently while Squalo looks inside his bag and comes up with a little plate. Tsunayoshi's small palm is etched on it, colourful kid's drawing decorating the outer sides, under it, in Xanxus's elegant writing, it's Tsunayoshi's name in perfect japanese.

"It's perfect."

"Whatever," Squalo snorts. "Voi, nice doing business with you." Squalo turns on his heel and walks out the door, his two tag-alongs following behind him.

#fanfiction #khr #katekyo hitman reborn #xanxus #sawada tsunayoshi #ask #anon #parenting adventures au

[ticklygiggles]

Violet grass predicament | Aether, Diluc, Childe & Zhongli

Collab with @otomiya-tickles

A/N: *maniac laughter in the distance* beautiful Ginny and I are still on hiatus, lololol, but I showed her this wonderful art I saw on Twitter and we just exchanged ideas and we found ourselves writing this out, huhu~ we hope you enjoy it! Also this is my first time writing for Genshin and it was a pleasure to share this moment with my beautiful girl 💕

Summary: Diluc is pleased to welcome Aether with his Liyue friends Childe and Zhongli at the Angel's Share, and even offers his help in the thing they are investigating. Hunting violet grass is serious business after all. Or is it?

Words: 2,751 (under the cut)

____

"Heeeh? Violet grass? Again?"

Diluc had to fight back a smirk when he heard Aether gasping, even over the loud sounds of the tavern.

"What do you mean again?" The traveler asked, disbelief dripping from his voice. "Do you know how hard it is to get?!"

Aether sounded extremely offended by the words of his Liyue friend, and this time he really cracked a little smile that was easily mistaken as a polite one as he grabbed a pair of dirty plates from the table where a young couple were dining.

It was not the first time he's brought them around. A few months ago, Aether came into Angel's Share, telling Diluc that he had brought someone from Liyue that really wanted to try Mondstadt's best wine.

Of course Diluc had felt proud and he eagerly introduced himself to the visitors. He liked them, one more than the other, though. Zhongli was a nice visitor, he always knew what to say and was enchanted by the delicious wine, claiming that it was, in fact, one of the best of Teyvat.

Childe, on the other hand, was loud and a tease and Diluc couldn't help but have his defenses up when he was around him, but as much as Childe was a little childish, he was also fun and Diluc had teeth marks on the inside of his cheeks from holding back his laughter every time he heard Childe talk.

Now it was a common thing to have this trio over at the tavern talking about food, commissions and some other matters around Teyvat. Diluc frequently found himself sitting with them, enjoying a nice talk and drink as he took orders from the other clients and cleaned up tables as the good owner he was.

Tonight was no different and, as he walked around with a tray with some empty glasses, he couldn't help himself and quickly stopped by the table where Childe, Aether and Zhongli were dining.

"There are quite a few around here," Diluc said, his fingertip touching a spot in the map between Aether's hands. "Around the Archon's statue in Mingyun Village."

"Ah, certainly," Zhongli declared with that deep voice of his as he looked over the area in the map. "Diluc is right. I remember seeing a path of violet grass during a walk on my own. Unfortunately it does grow in cliffs and is hard to get if you don't have a good condition," he said and both Aether and Diluc nodded, but the traveler also let out a soft whine that made Childe giggle.

"Oh, but how is it that Diluc knows this? Isn't he always in Mondstadt?" Childe asked with a playful smile as he rested his chin upon the palm of his hand, looking at Diluc with curious eyes.

Diluc shrugged. "I've been trying to make a drink with violet grass, so I often come and get fresh flowers there. There's a whole path as Zhongli says, you see," he said, glading his finger over the map. "Here, here and here. Can you mark it?"

"Ah, yes! Diluc is the best!" Aether said excitedly, quickly marking all the spots on his map as both Diluc and Zhongli mentioned them.

“Don’t exaggerate. I was just -- AHh!” Diluc spazzed suddenly, almost dropping the glasses as he felt a finger poke his side. He looked where the random tickle came from and saw Childe smirking at him.

“Don’t be modest when our Traveler compliments you,” he teased. The young Harbinger then casually held up a finger, “Ah by the way Diluc. Please pour one more glass of your finest wine to Mr. Zhongli here. And some Wolfhook juice for our traveler here,” Childe ordered, and he held up his own glass which was still full and winked. “I’m still good.”

“I could order myself,” Zhongli said calmly, and Aether stuttered, “J-Juice?” but did not seem to object, so Diluc rolled his eyes fondly at the trio and went to fetch them their drinks. Behind him he heard the three express their admiration of Diluc’s knowledge and Aether was eagerly noting the route for his violet grass hunt.

Heading back to them with the drinks, Diluc first handed Zhongli his drink and then stood by Aether to put down the juice. Right at that moment, there was that sudden ticklish touch again. This time on his back. A single finger traced a quick path down his back, and he arched up so suddenly he dropped the Wolfhook Juice all over Aether’s lap.

“AH!” Aether twitched in surprise, and Zhongli looked up with mild concern, letting out a simple “oh” in realization that Aether was covered in juice. Meanwhile Childe… did not stop tickling Diluc.

“Look at what you did Diluc~” Childe mocked, his hand lowering to Diluc��s side and squeezing him there a couple of times, making him bark out some involuntary strange ugly laughs, in his opinion.

“GAahaha! H-hey q-quit that!” He made odd dancing moves to squirm his way out of there, but the grip and strength in the innocent touch of Childe’s hand was quite strong.

“Please go get us something to help him clean,” Childe said, his hand continuing to assault Diluc’s side.

Diluc tried to bite his tongue to prevent making a fool of himself in front of everyone inside the Angel's Share but, thankfully, the tavern was rather empty and most of the people around were beyond past their drinking limit, so he was not too worried when he felt Childe's fingers giving his lower ribs a firm squeeze that had him letting out a bright cackle before he pushed Childe's hand away from his body.

"Ouch!" Childe whined, rubbing the spot where Diluc had slapped him.

"I said stop," Diluc said, narrowing his eyes just as Zhongli said: "You deserve it. Now look at what happened to Aether."

He gently pointed at the poor traveler that was trying to save his precious map from the juice that had splashed on the table, not caring about the liquid covering his lap and even some parts of his bare middle.

Diluc winced a little. "I apologize, Aether. Give me one second, I'll bring a towel."

Aether hurriedly shook his head, holding his map up, "please don't worry! I know this was not your fault," he said, sending a glare to a certain Harbinger who only giggled, lifting his hands and showing his palms.

"What~? I was just wondering if Diluc was ticklish!" He said, smirking playfully as Diluc rolled his eyes and made his way to bring a towel for the traveler. "He was looking so serious, the idea suddenly popped into my head and I just couldn't help but do it!"

"You're going to pay extra for it," Zhongli said, drinking some wine as he took the map from Aether's hands and carefully settled it on the other side of the table where it could be safe from the purple-ish liquid.

"Heh? But I always pay, Mr. Zhongli!"

"Here's the towel. If you feel too sticky you can take another one and go wash a little in the bathroom," Diluc said gently, placing a refill of juice on the table. "This one's on me."

“Thank you Diluc! I’m sorry tha-- EEhp!” Diluc looked down in surprise when Aether yelped; Childe had taken the towel and started rubbing it against Aether’s middle.

“Hm? So noisy, right Diluc?” Childe said, but Diluc could see he was resuming his tickle antics on purpose as he moved it all over Aether’s bare midriff to rub off the sticky juice.

“Seriously?” Diluc muttered, but what followed after was Aether’s loud bubbly laughter. He squirmed, trying to fight off Childe with cute flailing movements.

“C-Chihihilde! N-not like thahahat! G-give me t-the tohohowel! S-stop!” Aether jumped and squirmed. Diluc could even see Childe use his other hand sneakily to ‘keep Aether in place’ but it just pinched and squeezed a little to add to the traveler’s predicament.

“This won’t do. Diluc, Mr. Zhongli, help a hand?” Childe whined, but Zhongli ignored the request and Diluc, blushing a little, turned around quickly to tend to some other guests with Aether’s sweet laughter in the background.

“Stahaahap~!” Aether giggled and Diluc saw from the corner of his eye that he tried to get up, but Childe's hand squeezing and pinching his side, really held him in place.

He felt his cheeks getting warmer and warmer then more he heard Aether's laughter growing louder and hysterical.

"Ahahaha! Not thehehere!" Aether cackled, kicking his legs when Childe helped him 'clean' his thighs by squeezing them with the towel.

"Stop moving so much," Childe said and Diluc could hear the smirk in his voice. "I can't help you if you're squirming like this!"

"I dihihihidn't ahahask for your hehehelp!" Aether said and Diluc nodded as he walked to get the freshly poured jugs of liquor.

"Mr. Diluc, what is all this ruckus about?" Charles asked, lending him a couple of drinks. "Is that the traveler laughing?"

Diluc blushed even more and he swore under his breath. "Don't mind it. I'll go take care of it."

"Oh, okay. It's not a big deal, though. I was just curious. Sounds like they're having fun."

Thankfully, they hadn't noticed that the reason for that laugh was because Aether was being tickled to death.

Diluc placed the orders with a gentle smile on one of the tables before rushing to where the trio was causing a scene.

"You, rascal," Diluc said, shivering when he saw Childe full on tickling Aether. "Could you quit your stupid game? You're disturbing everyone."

Childe clicked his tongue before looking up at Diluc as his fingers purposely moved to squeeze at Aether's ribs. Diluc felt the faint tingles wrapping around his own ribcage, but he stood there, trying to seem intimidating.

"Now, Diluc. I don't think that's true. I bet everyone is enjoying hearing the traveler's laughter, don't you think?"

"I certainly don't," Diluc said and he waited a few seconds for Childe to stop, but when he didn't, he sent a pleading look to Zhongli. "Zhongli, please? Could you do something?"

Zhongli let out a long sigh, raising a hand toward Diluc. "Rest assured. I've got this."

Diluc thanked him silently before leaving again, keeping an ear perked up to hear the man put some order.

"Childe."

To Diluc's surprise, Aether's laughter slowed down to soft giggling right away, and sending a quick glance to their table, he saw Childe pouting as Zhongli held the towel in his own hands.

"You're disturbing the diners," he said, carefully patting Aether's arms and stomach to properly dry him up. "You're going to make Diluc kick us out of here and we haven't had the chance to chat yet."

Hmh. Good. Diluc nodded in satisfaction, impressed how Zhongli put an end to the tickly chaos right away, and he turned back and continued to work.

“All good,” he told Charles. Then… They both looked up when suddenly a remarkable sound was heard, and Diluc turned around. His eyes widened when they confirmed what he was hearing. Zhongli was laughing.

“Q-quihihit that, C-Childe!” Diluc watched the scene with raised eyebrows. Childe had found his next victim, and oh how he was going at him with full strength. Diluc was shocked to see Childe had his hands on both sides of Zhongli’s waist, fingers digging in playfully as he made the radiant man stumble and let out some huffy laughs.

“Childe stop!” Aether hissed, still blushing as he tried to pry his hands off Zhongli, but the Harbinger had a mission and knowing how this went with Aether and himself, Diluc was afraid this was going to take a while.

“Aw what’s wrong, Mr. Zhongli~? So serious,” Childe whined with pouty lips, his fingers digging into Zhongli’s slender waist before pinching and squeezing their way upwards.

Diluc could see that Zhongli was doing his best to keep himself from laughing, he even covered his mouth with one of his hands as the other desperately tried to push Childe away from him, but goodness, that kid was strong and persistent and Diluc knew, deep inside him, that Zhongli would eventually lose his fight.

Surprisingly, it took less than he thought. Zhongli was suddenly throwing his head back as deep, rumbly cackles poured out of his mouth as soon as Childe's fingers found their way right under the man's arms.

"I s-sahahahaid quihihihit it!" Zhongli laughed, now using both hands to try and push Childe.

"Childe!" Aether squeaked. "Diluc is going to get mad! Quit it!"

"Diluc should lighten up a bit," Childe said, chuckling to himself as he slowly tickled Zhongli apart. "Mr. Zhongli was being too serious, I just wanted him to lighten up too."

Diluc sighed, massaging his temple as he heard Childe's words. Charles cleared his throat and Diluc tensed up.

"Ah, so it's that," he said, chuckling softly and Diluc couldn't feel more mortified. "It's no big deal, Mr. Diluc. I'm sure a few customers seem happy to hear Mr. Zhongli laughing," he chuckled, pointing at a table with a movement of his chin and Diluc saw how a few ladies were blushing as they looked over at Zhongli.

He sighed. Walking to the trio one more time. "Last chance before I throw the three of you out."

"Eh?! But why me?!" Aether whined, pulling at Childe's arms, trying to save Zhongli from the armpit tickles that had him all uncoordinated. "Childe!"

“Hm~?” Childe hummed, even increasing his tickle attack.

“AHaha- s-stop! N-not there, Childe!”

“Last chance!” Diluc huffed, very aware and embarrassed that everyone was watching them now. Oh… Everyone was watching? Diluc clenched his fist. So be it then. He stood behind Childe who continued to playfully cackle along with Zhongli, and he grazed both sides of his ribcage slightly in hesitation before digging in fully, tickling him hard.

“HEYAh!” Childe didn’t let go of Zhongli yet but even clenched onto him, his fingers continuing to dig into Zhongli’s sensitive torso. Childe’s laughter was instantly louder than Zhongli’s, though.

“Are you going to quit now, huh?” Diluc asked, his fingers digging furiously into Childe’s sides by now. Childe flailed and threw his head back.

“Ahahalright! H-hahang on- hehehey!” No one, not even Childe had obviously expected Diluc to resort to the ways he did. Not even Diluc himself, actually. But it seemed to work. With Childe’s grip weakened, Zhongli could finally pull himself free, and he stood on Aether’s other side to catch his breath while Diluc continued to punish Childe.

Agh, honestly. Doing something like this in front of everyone! Mondstadt was a tiny town, he knew the rumors about him tickling someone from Liyue would quickly reach everyone's ears and what would he say when people ask him about it?

"S-Stahahahap!" Childe laughed, shrieking when Diluc's fingers grazed that path of uncovered skin on his side. "I'll behahahahave, I'm sohohohorry!"

Well, of course he'd say he did it because Childe deserved a taste of his own medicine, and he should be thankful Diluc didn't actually kick him out and exile him from the Angel's Share!

Besides… this was kind of fun, but he still had work to do. "You'll behave? Is that a promise?" Childe nodded, his face going a bit pink with all that laughter blooming past his lips. "Very well," Diluc said and he stopped, leaning back up as he fixed his clothes. "Now excuse me."

He left without a word and heard Childe getting the giggles as he sat back on his chair, Zhongli also taking his seat back after catching his breath and relaxing with a sip of his wine.

"Childe, you're insane," Aether sighed, throwing the towel at Childe.

Childe laughed, "maybe a little but hey, you guys had fun!"

Diluc turned a little to look over at the trio and found that they were smiling softly, cheeks flushed as they started to talk again about the violet grass locations.

Only after a few minutes, Diluc noticed that he had also been smiling softly the whole time and even though that made him feel a little flustered, he couldn't help but think that he, in fact, had lots of fun when these three came to visit the tavern.

"There are a few in Stone Forest too," Diluc said, placing a plate of snacks on their table.

"Aaah, Diluc really is the best!"

Diluc wondered if he should visit Liyue from time to time as well.

#Genshin Impact #Aether #Diluc #Diluc Ragnivindr #Childe #Zhongli #tickle fic #ticklish!Diluc #ticklish!Zhongli #ticklish!Aether #ticklish!Childe

[detectivedreameater]

Tarantula Too || Abigail and Marley

TIMING: Last week sometime PARTIES: @morbidlycuriousabigail and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: Marley stumbles to the pet store drunk and runs into Abigail, who is also shopping for tarantula food. The two...bond? Sort of? As much as two deadpan, emotionally stunted women can. CONTENT: Spider discussion, Alcoholism

Marley hadn’t spent a lot of her time sober, lately. But when she woke up that morning-- afternoon, actually-- buried deep in papers and maps and sticky notes, she’d rolled off the couch only to find that José was out of food. Groaning, she rubbed her eyes and threw on a jacket and didn’t bother changing her pants, they probably weren’t that dirty. She’d even fallen asleep with her shoes on. She stepped out into the harsh sunlight and felt her body immediately begin to sag, flinching away from it. Grappling around in her pockets, she looked for her sunglasses, but they were nowhere to be found. “Fuck,” she muttered, but she was already far enough down the sidewalk that she didn’t want to turn around and go back. And so she stumbled down the street until she made it to the reptiles and more petshop and pushed the door open.

She resented the bell that chimed above her head, but she resented the clerk who greeted with a high-pitched voice even more. Grumbling, she ignored her and made her way over to the tarantula aisle, stopping for a moment to admire the ones they had for sale. She couldn’t help but smile at them, before the thought of how much Erin would hate it if she came home with a second one made her heart clench. She turned the corner into the aisle and reached for the last bag of live crickets, only to find someone else also reaching for it. “Look,” she mumbled, “I’m having a shitty morning. Afternoon-- whatever. And my girl is out of food so I really need these.” She’d fear gaze her for it if she had to. What did being good matter anymore? “So kindly remove your hand before I make you.”

Abigail sat up slowly out of bed once morning had come, looking towards her pet tarantula’s terrarium and remembering what she needed to do. She got herself dressed, ate breakfast, and headed out to her car. Abigail considered getting coffee, but she didn’t want Leo to go too long without food, so she decided she’d head to the pet store first. After parking outside, she made her way in, completely ignoring the bell overhead and the sound of being greeted by the clerk at the front, making a beeline to the live food.

Abigail always made a point not to look at the other spiders that were up for adoption, as she knew she’d want to take one home, and she didn’t want to get their hopes up in their little tanks only to disappoint them. After finding the crickets, she reached for the last bag at the same time as Marley. “Mine is out of food too.” Abigail turned to look at the stranger, glaring at her with a blank expression, the air growing tense. “I won’t be removing my hand. If you don’t back off, I’ll end you and erase any trace of your existence.” She didn’t seem to be supernatural, especially not supernatural enough to back up her utter confidence and lack of manners.

The threat didn’t bother Marley in the slightest. She was a mara, what would she fear of death? And what did it matter if she died, anyway? Without Erin, she had nothing. She was nothing. “I’d like to see you try,” she growled, tightening her grip on the bag as she yanked it, hoping to surprise the other woman and shake her hand loose. She should just fear gaze her and get it over with, there was only the clerk in the store-- but something felt like it was stopping her. A nagging voice in her head telling her “You’re really gonna traumatize someone over tarantula food?’ Marley blinked back and shook her head and let go. “Fuck it, fine,” she grumbled, rubbing her eyes, the heavy light making her feel sluggish and achey. “I’ll just go find my own crickets or some shit. Can’t be that hard, right?”

Pulling the bag closer, Abigail inspected the container filled with crickets, inspecting it just in case it had been ripped or cut or penetrated in some way. “Smart decision.” She looked to Marley, blankly scanning them over, observing their body language for a moment. She was grateful that she didn’t have to waste time fulfilling her threats, so she figured it would make sense to repay Marley for her decision to release the crickets. “You shouldn’t bother. What pet do you have? There are usually alternatives, my Leo simply prefers crickets for the thrill of the hunt.” She spoke in a dull, monotone manner, lifting her eyes to lock onto Marley’s with her relentless, piercing gaze.

Marley didn’t have the energy to fight. She wanted to go home and pass out or drink some more. She rubbed her eyes again, thick and heavy with bags. She hadn’t been sleeping well, or at all. It was hard to sleep in a bed she’d once shared with her now dead partner. “Grammostola pulchra,” she grumbled, “er– Brazilian black. Tarantula.” She stumbled back a few steps until her back hit the other shelf, and she slid all the way down to a sit, holding her head in her hands as a headache came and went. “I’ll take whatever. She just really likes crickets. And mice. Guess I could get some feeder mice,” she mumbled, not sure if she was talking to herself or the other woman. “What about you? What’s yours?”

“A tarantula?” Abigail paused for a moment, looking down at the container of crickets, before leaning down to set them on Marley’s lap. “I have a Brachypelma smithi, a Smith’s redknee tarantula. He’ll eat roaches just fine.” Her monotone speaking mannerisms didn’t change, but she didn’t seem upset about relinquishing the package, as difficult as it was to tell. “Also, you look like shit. If you don’t rest properly, you won’t be able to adequately care for your companion.” She turned on a dime, walking pointedly down the aisle a bit to observe the containers of live cockroaches, grabbing one that looked the most lively and leaning down to inspect it closely, checking for any signs of sickness or death.

Marley blinked and looked down at the container now in her lap. She wasn’t really used to kindness, especially from strangers. Especially from a stranger who had just threatened to kill her. Well, sort of. She didn't care, anyway. She was daring the world to try. She didn’t want to die but living with this hole in her chest– her heart, her soul if monsters had them– was more painful than even the longest death. It was slow and painful and it was consuming her like a virus. Like a poison, spreading through her body and stealing everything from her but never letting her go. “Thanks…” she mumbled, grabbing the container and pulling herself up. She watched the other woman walk off towards the cockroaches and sighed, following. She picked up the container the woman had been examining. “Least let me pay for yours,” she said. “Her name’s Jose. My girl. Don’t worry, I’d never let anything happen to her.”

Abigail paused for a moment, blinking rapidly in surprise and befuddlement at the audacity of this stranger to take the container away from her. Pondering the offer for a moment, she shrugged and nodded, turning to head towards the terrarium accessories section. “Fine. I can use the money on his Christmas present then.” Abigail grabbed a skull decoration and traced her finger along the inside edges to make sure they weren’t too sharp. She’d be very upset if her baby got hurt by his gift. “His name is Leo, by the way. He is one of the only things I love with all of my being.” Oddly enough, as Abigail spoke, there was a genuine caring gaze in her eyes at the mention of her pet.

“You buy him gifts?” Marley asked as she followed the other woman, tucking the crickets under her arms with the cockroaches. They buzzed quietly in their respective containers and Marley watched curiously as she observed the skull decoration. It did look pretty nice. Jose had a lot of decorations in her terrarium, but not a skull. Marley considered getting one, too. Maybe she could get it for her for Christmas. But the idea of the holiday made her stomach sick. She remembered last year clearly, the box Erin had given her, the mementos inside. She still had them all. SHe didn’t even get to give Erin a gift. She’d never gotten her a gift. Marley picked up a skull as well and headed to the counter behind the other woman. “Leo, I like that.” She could tell the other woman genuinely cared about her pet and that made Marley relax enough. Someone who loved tarantulas couldn’t be that bad. “How long you had him?”

Abigail nodded in response to the question, keeping her gaze straight ahead while she walked to look at more enclosure decorations. “Yes, I buy him gifts every christmas. I don’t usually get gifts for anybody else anyways, so I can afford it.” That sounded incredibly depressing to just say out loud, but Abigail genuinely didn’t think anything of it. To her, it was just a fact, not something that was a hindrance in her life. “Yes, I named him after the astrological sign of the month I adopted him, July. I like Jose too, sounds like a pretty name.” Abigail paused as she spotted a miniature christmas tree that was animal safe, grabbing it without hesitation. She could imagine how adorable it would be for Leo to have his own tiny tree to celebrate with. It took effort to not crack a smile. “I’ve had him for 3 years so far, what about you?”

“Huh,” Marley mumbled, “never thought of that.” Then again, she’d never really celebrated. She’d done so last year, with Erin, but the memory was still painful right now, and she didn’t want to think about it. She planned on just getting black out drunk on the couch so she didn’t have to remember this one, either. “I like that. Jose’s named after my favorite tequila. Mister Cuervo himself,” she stated, following behind Abigail as they headed towards the counter. For how the day had started, this conversation was actually going nicely. Marley didn’t mind it, at least. Not a lot of people liked talking to her about Jose, or tarantulas in general. “About nine months,” she answered. “Sorta new to the pets thing, but I’d always wanted one. Just somethin’ about them that really draws me in. They’re kinda the perfect pet.” 

“I don’t believe many people do.” Abigail shrugged, walking with Marley to the checkout line, holding the skull in her hands with a claw-like grasp by her side. She hoped Leo would like this present, and his food, a small part of her hoping Marley’s pet liked it’s food as well. She’d never speak that selfless part of herself to light, though. “Jose Cuervo, an interesting choice for a namesake, and a good one.” Abigail moved to check out first, paying for the skull decoration and the tiny Christmas tree with cash, carefully holding the bag containing both once all was said and done. She gestured with her free hand for Marley to step up and check out, waiting patiently with eerily perfect posture. “I find them cute looking, and they are rather playful. They are the epitome of underappreciated animals.”

Marley moved clumsily behind the other woman as they headed up to the counter, leaning against the stand as she waited. A few loose items dropped but she didn’t bother picking them up, catching a wry glance from one of the cashiers. “Thanks,” she said, moving up as she finished, setting all the stuff on the counter. The cashier rang her up quickly and gave her a smile, but Marley didn’t return the sentiment, taking her stuff and moving away quickly. She couldn’t be bothered to try and seem happy. She wasn’t. She was in pain and she was suffering and it wasn’t fair. Once they were outside, she pulled out the roaches and held them out to the other woman. “M’name’s Marley, by the way,” she said, “I’d say sorry for being an ass, but that’s just how I am, so–” and she shrugged.

“Everybody’s an ass in some way. At least you aren’t pretending not to be one.” Abigail shrugged as she walked outside with Marley, squinting a bit as the sun reached her eyes, temporarily blinding her before she was able to adjust. “My name is Abigail, Abigail Varcroft.” She blinked a few times as she turned back to face Marley, taking the container of live cockroaches from her. “Do you need a ride somewhere or something? If not, I’ve got to go home so I can wrap these.” Abigail gestured blankly to the bag in one of her hands, containing the recently purchased decorations. Although she seemed just as monotone and emotionless as she had when the two first met minutes ago, it was clear due to how quickly she wanted to leave that she was excited to give the gifts to her pet. She genuinely loved the spider, and wanted him to be happy on Christmas.

“Fair enough,” Marley shrugged. She glanced around them, the streets quiet for an afternoon so early. She blinked against the harsh light again, shifting her packages. “Nice to meet you.” And it kinda was. Even if they’d started off strangely, Abigail hadn’t turned out to be all that bad. She shook her head, gesturing down the sidewalk. “I’m close. And uh– think the fresh air might do me good, anyway. But, again, thanks, for uh– the offer, and the crickets. Next time, you can have the crickets and I’ll try the roaches.” The other woman’s face remained stoic and Marley wondered if this was what it was like to talk to her when she’d tried so hard to not show her emotions. It was kind of like talking to a brick wall. Or maybe Marley was just still drunk. “Hope your guy likes his gifts.”

Abigail nodded in agreement, happy that it was calm and uncrowded outside, her eyes opening a bit more as she continued adjusting to the sun’s glare. “Agreed. This has been a surprisingly pleasant encounter. Thank you.” It didn’t show on her face, but this had been a good morning for her. She hadn’t expected things to turn out well after how she and Marley had first encountered, but it felt nice to have had things turn around for the better. “Walk safely, it can be dangerous out there. That sounds like a good plan, the roaches have good nutritional value and give a good chase.” Abigail turned and walked to her car slowly after giving a small goodbye wave to Marley, sitting for a moment in the dead silence and pressure of the car before turning it on and starting to drive away.

#chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy: abigail #tarantula too #abigail #alcoholism tw

[silverwhiteraven]

Borne of the Stars - Chapter 15 - An MLB Kryptonian AU

Tag List: @weird-pale-blonde-person @kris-pines04 @catthhay @abrx2002 @amayakans @vixen-uchiha @heldtogetherbysafetypins @raisuke06 @dorkus-minimus @mopester-is-here @moonlightstar64 @toodaloo-kangaroo @the-navistar-carol @elspethshadow @chocolatecatstheron​ @ivymala07  Questionable Tags that don’t work?: @daminett4life @captainartsypants  @annabellabrookes  @eve-valution

[Author’s Note: Oh Hi there! This fic is now over a YEAR old! Woah!! ]

[ Summary: Ladybug figures out her Lucky Charm, just in the nick of time. ]

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 14 ] [ Chapter 16 ]

Ladybug was up high, holding on to the top of the Eiffel Tower like a cliche reenactment of that Dancing in the Rain scene where the man is swinging around a lamp post. Only, she’s over 300 metres above the ground instead of just one, and she’s admittedly quite terrified of looking directly downward. Still, she pushes down the instinct to be terrified and looks out, beyond the surrounding park below, towards the glowing lines still spreading through the city.

“Map, roads, landmarks, personal pins, lost items…” Ladybug’s mind tried to piece together all the little clues she had gathered. She looked down to her hand, a small roll of red paper clutched in it. Letting it unfurl, she took note of the various numbers and letters printed in black ink. There was almost a pattern to it, though they made no particular sense to her.

“Map, landmarks, numbers, map, landmarks, numbers,” she repeated to herself, before it clicked. “Numbers and personal pins, all on a map. These are coordinates-! Ack! ” She held tighter to the tower, her momentary distraction making her tilt a bit too far out.

Still continuing to avoid looking down, Ladybug took one more glance to the skyline, and a certain marker caught her eye. It was one of the unique ones, further out towards the edges of the growing map. It was moving. But it wasn’t along any of the main roads. At least not above ground. And the Akuma had mentioned the subway.

“More than just a map,” Ladybug realized. “Slowly growing like a buffer, keeping track of places and active transit routes... This is a GPS! Of course! Atlas lost something, now they’re trying to track it down!” She looked down toward her hand, “My Luck Charm must be-” and she saw the ground, far, far below.

And Ladybug thought she was scared earlier when she was swinging precariously through the streets of Paris by the cord of a yo-yo.

It didn’t help that an unexpected beeping suddenly invaded her ears just as wind whipped hair into her eyes, and by instinct both hands went to her ears, eyes screwed shut.

Ladybug gasped, breath catching and body stiffening as she realized she was tilting away from her perch on the tower once again. Only now, she didn’t have a hand holding her to it, and the arm that finally reached out to grab for something, anything , was a moment too late.

There was no scream as she fell, only the rush of air around her, contrasting to the lack of breathing in her chest. Her two masked eyes opened out of fright, flinching from the wind. For a moment, she didn’t know which way was up or down, until her peripheral saw the top observation deck pass by in a blur.

She reached for her yo-yo clumsily, and knowing every second counted toward saving herself only made her muscles refuse to cooperate. Barely managing to get a finger through the yo-yo’s ring, Ladybug threw her only weapon out, towards the beams of the tower, hoping beyond hope that it would catch hold.

Her luck held, and the yo-yo caught.

But she was still falling, of course, and as the ground grew closer and the string drew taunt, Ladybug squeaked as she was suddenly swinging into the force of her own pendulum.

She swung past the ground between the legs of the Eiffel Tower and went back upwards, straight up through the open center of the first observation deck.

Her breath caught again as gravity slowed her upward trek, and for a moment, she felt herself suspended in the open air.

That moment stretched longer.

Before her brain could question the fact she was closer to floating than actually reaching the peak of upward lift, gravity reclaimed Ladybug, and she was falling again.

“Ack! Gotta stop gotta stop-!”

Tugged at the string of her yo-yo as she went, and it expanded, dropping her closer to the ground than before. At the moment she swung parallel to the ground, she gave another tug, and the yo-yo’s main body, wherever it had caught on the tower above, let itself free, and Ladybug tumbled into a roll across the ground.

“Owch… I really need to get better at this,” She grumbled to herself as she staggered back to standing. A black clad figure slid into place beside her, a hand reaching out to give balance, the other with an extended baton held out defensively.

“You sure do, Buggy,” Oncilla said. “Welcome back to the battle. Sorry I couldn’t catch you myself, Atlas is surprisingly tough to distract.”

Ladybug shook her head, “Think nothing of it, I’m fine. Thanks for giving me the time I needed to figure out what to do.”

“No problem! So what’s the plan now?” Oncilla asked as she picked up a still unsteady Ladybug and jumped out of the way of Atlas as they charged forward. It had barely been a minute since she left the battle to call for her Lucky Charm, but Ladybug already felt like the last time she had been moving around this much had been an hour ago. She was really going to need to get used to this whole stop-and-go process, and hopefully soon.

“My Lucky Charm gave me coordinates. I noticed that this whole thing, all the changes to the city, it’s a giant GPS system, tuned in to the Akuma’s own needs.”

“How does that help us fight it?” Oncilla asks, puzzled.

“We- we might not have to, I think that’s the point. Sometimes, the best thing to do in a fight is to not fight, but to help ,” Ladybug realized. “Quick, put me down, I need to get Atlas’s attention.”

Oncilla did as asked, and Ladybug immediately started waving her arms over her head.

“Truce! We call a truce!! I know how we can help each other without needing to fight!”

The Akuma paused in their attack, before flying straight to Ladybug and stopping directly in front of her, an intimidating figure that made the new hero flinch. Oncilla stood close, tense.

“Explain,” Atlas commanded with a voice of steel. “You have 30 seconds.”

“You’re connected to the map that's imposed over the city, right?” A nod in response. “Well, I think we found your items that you lost. At least, sort of.”

“ Sort of? ” they growled, prompting the Black Cat user to step closer and growl back.

“You’ll have to confirm it for us,” Ladybug appeased gently. “I have coordinates, they should lead you where you need to go since you know how to use the map. But…” She paused, glancing at her partner before continuing more confidently, “But we have to trade. Your Akumatized item, for my Lucky Charm. You get what you need, and we get what we need. A fair trade, right?”

There��s a pause, stretched out by held breaths and the flickering of a butterfly outline over eyes.

Atlas glanced at Ladybug's earrings, just as they started to beep for a second time, and the hero gulped. Then, the supervillain stepped back.

“You have a deal,” Atlas proclaimed, clearly ignoring Hawk Moth’s interruption. The two heroes let out relieved breaths. “But you’re coming with me. If I don’t get what I want, you’re both going to pay dearly.”

Oncilla and Ladybug nod in understanding, Ladybug a bit nervous in contrast to Oncilla’s confidence. No, it was pride, directed at Ladybug. “You’re doing great, Little Lady,” the Black Cat hero reassured with a grin. “This will be over soon. Let’s go.”

And with that, Ladybug hands her Lucky Charm to Atlas, who in turn hands over their own item. It was nothing more than small, shaped sticky notes meant for organization. It felt unnerving in Ladybug’s hand, something so small and simple able to be used for something so strong and menacing.

The two heroes then followed Atlas as they pinpointed the exact location of the coordinates. It was near one of the personal landmarks, a place Ladybug didn’t know, but Atlas clearly knew it. After some frustrated searching, another round of beeping from the earrings, and a couple tense moments where the heroes thought the Akuma might blow their top, the missing items were found.

Atlas held the pack of calligraphy and felt tip pens like they meant the world to them.

“Thanks,” they said quietly, genuinely. They handed the no longer needed Lucky Charm back to Ladybug with an appreciative nod. “Do what you need to do. I don’t need Hawk Moth any longer. I can deal with my own battles myself.”

Ladybug turned to Oncilla, smiling big with the overwhelming emotions of an unexpected victory. “Want to do the honors?” she asked as she held out the Akumatized sticky notes.

“I’d be happy to,” Oncilla purred, taking the item in her ringed hand. “Cataclysm!”

The sticky notes disintegrated, and a dark butterfly emerged like it was hatching from a cocoon. Ladybug, with an encouraging nudge from Oncilla that also served as a reminder, took out her yo-yo once more, activated its ability to purify, and caught the little insect.

“Bye-bye, little butterfly,” she whispered to the creature as it fluttered away. Then, with a deep breath, she clutched the Lucky Charm before tossing it high; “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Ladybug jumped back with a squeak, surprised by the sudden burst of black, red, and white magic from the item, watching in awe as it swept down the streets and into the distance.

A fourth set of beeps rang in her ears, drawing her attention away with a start.

“I need to go! Oncilla, can you-?”

“I can cover the civilian and make sure they get home; don’t worry, I got this! See you later, Your Ladyship ,” the other hero reassured and teased with a playful wink.

Ladybug giggled and flushed at the whole embarrassing ordeal. “Yes, of course- See you around then, Lancelot ,” she managed to return the tease through her flustered state, before throwing out her yo-yo and pulling herself back towards home.

#Borne of the Stars #maribat #Krypto-Mari AU #marinette dupain cheng #kara danvers #miraculous ladybug #dc super hero girls #kryptonian au #black cat kara

[byamylaurens]

On Structuring Plot: A List Of Useful Resources + My Recent Process

I was asked on Instagram last week how I go about structuring my stories, whether there’s a set way I like to do it, or if it’s different for every story, or what. I promised an answer last week, and that didn’t happen, but hey! It is this week and now I can answer! 😀

The truth of the matter is, I feel very self-conscious about plot structure. It’s the area of writing I’m least comfortable with, and so my attempts either end up with me just writing and ignoring structure entirely (A Fox Of Storms And Starlight), or else plotting everything else in meticulous detail, usually with the help of Liana Brooks (How Not To Acquire A Castle, as evidenced in our epic plotting video).

And then there is everything else, which tends to fall in the middle. Honestly, it depends on the book, and the mood, and how much of a concrete, specific handle I need on the story before going in.

Because that varies widely, too. When Worlds Collide, the final book in the Sanctuary trilogy that won Best Children’s Book 2019 in my state? You’re reading the first draft, prettied up with some proofreading for typos. The first book in the series, on the other hand? That’s the …eighth, I think, draft? And again, everything else falls somewhere in the middle, though generally speaking I plan my novels more than my short stories, and things that feel “fast paced” more than things that luxuriate more in the prose. Though even that’s not entirely true. And it overlaps with the length tendencies.

SO. Rather than continuing to ramble about my actual processes (variable), I thought I’d share with you a range of resources that you might find useful (if you’re a writer) or simply interesting (if you’re not, or even if you are I guess).

1. Liana Brooks’ Outlining Sheet

Liana, who you probably know is my writer-buddy and co-conspirator with regards to Inkprint Press, is excellent at plot. She does developmental edits for a really reasonable rate, and is absolutely stellar at what she does. So it’s without shame that I recommend first up her outline sheet, which is a take on the Lester Dent Plot Formula (google it).

2. Beat Sheets.

For when a general outline with key touch points isn’t detailed enough, there are beat sheets. The best ones I’ve found came from Jami Gold, and you can download them here. I’ve also converted them to word docs with scenes numbered for a 40-scene/chapter book and a 20 scene-chapter book, and you can grab those here (word docx download).

3. MICE Structure.

I posted this video on Friday, but Mary Robinette Kowal’s MICE theory has been hands down THE most useful plotting resource I’ve encountered for me personally. I’ll elaborate on this a little more below, where I’ll talk specifically about a project I’m working on right now.

4. Brandon Sanderson’s Plot Lectures.

I listened to these nearly a year ago, then relistened recently and was interested to discover I’d done something similar with Moon Shot, the project I’m currently plotting. Definitely worth a listen. It’s a little more general in scope than the preceding resources, but very necessary for a sound understanding of what your plot should be DOING.

You can also check out the posts I wrote on plot structure years ago, starting here.

Okay, now to the specifics. On Tuesday, I posted the following to Instagram, which is what precipitated the question that resulted in this post:

This is me working on Moon Shot, and it’s the first time I really used the MICE process on a longer work very deliberately, and I LOVED IT.

So I thought I’d quickly delineate for you here exactly what I did. (ETA: Quickly, ha.)

Worldbuilding. I had a giant conversation with Liana about the worldbuilding for the world, and how the main sci fi element works. She took notes and emailed them to me.

Brain Dump. I did a stream-of-consciousness dump into my notes just rambling through things roughly sequentially, and stopping to research the sciencey stuff I needed.

List Of Questions. From this, I listed out on my small whiteboard (A4-ish size) all the questions that would be asked and answered in this book. Will they escape? Why can’t they go to Earth? Who are the kidnappers? Etc.

MICE. I then colour-coded each question according to it’s MICE category: milieu, inquiry, character, event. If that doesn’t make sense, go watch Kowal’s video first (resource 3 above).

General Plotting. I broke out the bigger whiteboard (A2 size?), separated it roughly into quarters across the ‘page’, and added every question to the board. Some questions are asked right at the start of the story, so that’s where their coloured line started, then I estimated roughly when the question would be answered in-plot, and ended their coloured line there. This was hands-down the most useful part of plotting, because it let me see a bunch of things in macro: I’d overloaded the third quarter with too many answers, and there wasn’t enough in the second quarter. Certain questions COULDN’T be asked until other ones were answered, and if I left the answering too late, the next arc would be too squished before the end of the book. And so forth. So I played around, adjusting arcs until I got a fairly even spread of questions and answers across the book, with little clusters at the 1/4, 1/2 and 3/4 marks. I also looked to make sure that I had enough strong questions asked in the beginning that weren’t answered until the very end.

Specific Plotting. For each arc, I now knew WHEN in the book it had to be. So I grabbed three A3 pages, taped them together in a long line, divided the page into 25 columns (see point 8 for why), and wrote headings with the basic beats of a story. Call to action, midpoint, final puzzle piece, act 2 antagonist, and so forth. See resource 2 above. Then I took my MICE arcs and started filling things in: this scene needs to answer this question and raise the next one. This scene needs to answer this question. That sort of thing. Not the specifics of what the characters are doing, but the underlying bones of what the SCENE needs to be doing.

Conflict! Once the beginnings and ends of each MICE arc were in place, I referred back to the MICE principle to figure out what kinds of conflict I needed to add. For example, one of the opening MICE arcs is a milieu question: How did the kids escape? Knowing that this is a milieu, I know I need to add points throughout the story where they run into dead ends in their attempts to escape, all the way until they actually make it out. Another MICE arc revolves around a mystery, so I knew I needed to throw red herrings and misleading information in there to influence the decisions the characters are making. I used different coloured highlighter to mark the main long-running arcs to make sure I was sprinkling them evenly throughout the book, and not accidentally ignoring one for too long.

Point Of View. I now had a really good idea of what was happening in each scene, so on to POV. Most books wouldn’t need this step necessarily, but part of the POINT of this book is that it has POV scenes from all 25 of my Year 8 students from a couple of years ago (you have not LIVED until you’ve tried this, oy, my head). AND on top of that, every character has one of eight different superpowers. So I wrote out all the character names on sticky notes, colour coded according to superpower. Then I played around. Which superpower would be useful in this scene? Which would lend an interesting lens to the events? Post-its meant I could test things and swap them around easily, until I got an order I was happy with, with the superpowers kind of evenly sprinkled throughout the book (as much as possible; they’re based on Myer-Briggs personality type, which, yes, most of the students were kind enough to do the test for me so I could allocate their powers accurately, HA, but it means some superpowers are more common than others).

Text Type. One of the only ways I could think of making this book hang together cohesively was to tell it via epistolary, which means including a bunch of other text types as well as narration (or instead of). So there are story bits, but also emails, letters, maps, interviews, transcripts and more. So once I had everything else in place, I figured out which scenes were going to be which text types so that again, there was a balance of them throughout.

PHEW. What a process. Still, overall it only took me about three hours, and it was SUPER FUN AND SATISFYING to do. I’ll DEFINITELY be doing at least steps 1 – 7 for a couple of future books, because it was just a really inherently enjoyable process for me, and makes me confident going into the book that the scenes will do what they need to do.

Here’s a sneaky peek at what some of the final outline looks like… 😀

On Structuring Plot: A List Of Useful Resources + My Recent Process was originally published on Amy Laurens

#Amy Laurens #Australian author Amy #beat sheets for writers #before you write #Brandon Sanderson #Canberra writer Amy #how to plot a novel #How to Write #Jami Gold&039;s beat sheets #Mary Robinette Kowal #plot plot plot the book #plotting masterclass #structuring stories with story structure like a well-structured story with structure #writing #writing resource #writing workshop #you too can write a story woo

[lorienrobins]

I just woke up from the wildest dream.

So I find myself lost in “the Time Halls”. Now I use lost kinda lightly, since I kinda know how this place works since I’ve been here before (I have actually had a previous dream about being completely lost here, so that is true).

I must have been at the main entrance. The walls were concrete and it kinda gave off warehouse vibes. There was only a small strip of this store-building, because a few meters in there is this huge metal wall, made from the same material that those vents in movies are made from, the ones you can crawl through.

Speaking of vents you can crawl through, the first one is right in front of me. Since there is no other way out of this room, I get down on my knees and start crawling.

After a while I reach the first junction. One vent in front of me, two to the sides, and one above me. Now someone who is new here might get confused. Every tunnel in this place has a number on the wall next to it, indicating which year it leads to. At first glance there is no rhyme or reason. What do the years, 7, 5031, and 820 have to do with each other? The answer, of course, is nothing. So how would one get from here to 2021? Well, the first step is always a guess, but once you learn that there is in fact some order in this place, you’ll get better at making these guesses.

The hallways are always counting up or down, depending on which direction you go. So if you take the hallway marked 7, you will arrive at another junction which contains a few seemingly random years ánd; the number 8.

I suppose 820 is closest to 2021 then, so I take the passage straight up. I climb up and crawl through this vent until I reach the next intersection.

I pass a few rooms on the way, but don’t ever enter them. The rooms are a good place to rest and stretch you legs, but they have a tendency to get you lost. If I were to enter a room, I’d find a small desk with a cork-board against the wall. On the cork board there would be general info about the nearby years, an incomprehensible map, and tens of sticky notes from other travelers. The sticky notes could either be lost travelers asking for help, experienced travelers giving tips, or just simply the ravings of people who’ve gone mad.

I crawl into the vent marked 2020. It’s pretty steep going down, but I keep going. I’m almost there anyway. I finally get down. There is no other way but right, so I squeeze myself around the corner and enter the car room. This room is exactly what it sounds like; a small, concrete room with a car in the centre. I don’t remember if it was red or silver, but I do remember it was turned on when I got there and the front two doors were wide open. I reach into the passenger side and turned the key. After a beat, I leaned in again and took the key out of the ignition, sticking it in my pocket. I mostly ignored the back seat, filled with discarded bags from people who chose to end their journey here. What happens to the bodies? No one knows, they just disappear.

I check the other vents, but strangely, none of them lead to where I need to go. In the corner to the front left of the car there is what looks like a regular door sized down a bunch. This is what the exits look like. Most of the time you’ll be traveling through vents to get to your year, and when you find it you will exit through a door. This one leads to 2020.

To the back left of the car there is a small alcove with a few vents in it, but none of them lead to 2021.

The vent behind the car leads to the 80s. The vents in the back right are also wrong.

I walk over to the cork-board and start reading the notes. I respond to a few of the questions with one of the pens from the desk. I also start writing my own note asking for clarification on my own problems.

As I’m doing this, another traveler emerges from one of the alcove vents and waltzes over to the 2020-door. He looks so confident, in his archeology outfit. Bad year, buddy. The man gives me a polite wave before stepping through the door. I’m alone again.

I search around for a bit longer, growing more and more panicked by the minute. Finally, I notice the second number next to the vent, underneath the first one. It’s painted in a slightly darker color, so it nearly fades into the background.

I rush to the desk to write down this revelation and get back to the vent I originally came out of.

To my left there is the passage going straight up to 2019, but in front of me, hidden in the shadows is another passage. I crawl through and find a grate. I push it open and finally see a small door labeled 2021. I jump from the vent into the small room, no larger than a closet, and go through the door.

As soon as I go through the door, I wake up, just in time for work.

This is on par with that one dream where I went dimension-jumping by stepping into the tv. Then you’re in whatever show was on when you stepped in and you have to find the “camera”, which is actually an inter-dimensional drone which you can use to jump through realities.

#dream #dreams #time travel #dimension travel #writing #cause i can #tw suicide #I’ll be back later with drawings #if I can find the time

[kotachii]

Haikyuu! Playing Among Us

Haikyuu Playing Among Us Headcanon

Summary: Among Us shenanigans with the HQ!! boys

Featuring: Karasuno, Fukurodani, Aoba Johsai, Nekoma, Inarizaki, Shiratorizawa, and Itachiyama

Karasuno

Daichi | Brown He doesn't really understand why everyone loves playing this game but he joins in anyways. When he plays, he will yell at people for misconduct. Yes. Misconduct. He is so serious while playing,  treating this like if he is the captain of the ship on an important space mission. Will eject people who call emergency meetings for no reason. Also painfully obvious if he is imposter because suddenly, he isn't lecturing people anymore.

Sugawara | Pink Oh this boy is slyyy. He looks really trustworthy, pink with a dum sticky note on his person. People -- especially Asahi-- love to follow him around for some reason, it's a good thing when he is crew member but when he is imposter....Suga will legit say "I'll follow you and watch you do medscan!" during meetings. Then kill you anyways.  

Tanaka | Black Always the first one ejected. He could never figure out the names of the map location, nor the tasks he has to do. "What tasks did you do?" "Yeah that one!", Tanaka would reply. But which one is "that one"..... No one knows. He is also the type of person to go "You're imposter because you're accusing me!". But it's his fault for playing so suspiciously all of the time and never knowing the names of the tasks or locations.

Nishinoya | Cyan He likes to just run around the map, always the first one there at lights, at reactor or at oxygen when it is sabotaged. No one knows how he gets there so quickly. Just because he is there, doesn't mean that he will get it done. Him and Hinata has been trying to fix the lights for a solid minute but they keep messing eachother up. But when there's a sabotage and Nishinoya isn't there to fix it, it is pretty obvious who is imposter.

Kageyama | Dark Blue Would fat finger and exit out of the downloading task right before the download is finished. Then get angry and give up on doing tasks. Then he will get accused for not doing tasks...usually the second one ejected after Tanaka. Will also accidentally self report after killing when he is imposter.

Hinata | Red He spent a minute trying to fix lights with Nishinoya. Then when a meeting is called, he tried to accuse Nishinoya for purposefully messing up the lights. But he just gets ignored. He also finishes his tasks really quickly except for the ones in electrical. He refuses to go there unless if someone is with him.

Asahi | Lime Green He is soooo nervous when playing this game. He will try to stick around with other people, like follow Suga. But he is also always the first one dead. Suga will abandon him right away--or kill him if Suga is imposter. Asahi will still complete all of the tasks when he is a ghost though.

Tsukishima | White You know those people that when they are imposters, they would lock you in a room and purposefully vent because they know you can't escape? Yeah, that's Tsukishima. When he is playing as crew, he would also pretend that he didn't see it when other players does med scan. Tsukishima isn't playing to win, he is playing for salt.

Yamaguchi | NA It's been half an hour, Yamaguchi is still waiting for Tsukishima to send him the game code. (Spoiler: he never got it)

Kiyoko | Purple Somehow always gets imposter every game. She is silent but deadly, the boys always feels bad voting her off but unlike them, she shows no mercy when she is killing. She also stalks electricals no matter the map. And when she's hosting the game, she always picks Mira because of the vents. Almost has a one hundred percent win rate as imposter. Yachi | Yellow She got pressured into playing because Hinata said it was really fun. But in reality, this game stresses her out so much. A spaceship with 9 other people and 2 of them can kill her? That's a nightmare! If she's crew, you can find Yachi hiding somewhere. On the ship she hides in comms, on polus she hides in spawn and on Mira, she hides in the cafeteria corner. As imposter, however, she will laugh nervously and stutter when someone mentions a kill.

Fukurodani

Bokuto | White "Did anyone see Bokuto?"--"Uhh yeah he was at admin."...3 kills, 4 sabotages, 2 meetings later, "So where was Bokuto?"---"He was in admin with me." Bokuto spent the entire game trying to do card.

Akaashi | Dark Green He's the type of guy to always make complex plays at the last 20 seconds of any emergency meeting. He's always thinking and talking but barely anyone actually does what he says. However, he is very good at picking up little details with the way other players move. He could tell by their actions if they are genuinely crew--even with idiots who spend the entire game doing card-- or imposter.

Aoba Johsai

Oikawa | Cyan When he is imposters with Iwaizumi, he will try to set up for a double kills. Locks the door, him, Iwa and two other poor players. Once he kills the two of them, they win. Will even act all cocky except when he does his end of the double kill, Iwaizumi (his imposter partner) reports the dead body.

Iwaizumi | Black He will 100% throw Oikawa under the bus if they are imposters together. Sometimes on purpose, other times...he just clicked on the report button instead of kill by accident. Also, when he is crew, he never clears anyone. Even when Oikawa followed him the entire game and did tasks in front of him, he will still eject him based off guts feelings.

Nekoma

Kuroo | Red Kuroo will call emergency meetings just to talk shit and tell the other players how he is much faster at doing tasks than them. "I would of been done my tasks if you didn't call this meeting!--" "Still slower than me." Constantly says that he needs to join a real lobby but never does.

Kenma | Yellow The tryhard of his friends group, Kenma has NO CHILL. He demands you list your entire pathing the SECOND he hears your voice. Actually really talkative and into the game but way too hard at it. Usually third imposters because he judges ppls mistakes too harshly. He's a good Imp tho, usually tries to win by sabotages. His 1 tell is that he won't kill Hinata when they're in the same game.

Lev | Orange The type of player who either keeps forgetting to mute his mic or actually doesn't know how? His favorite task is weapons because he gets to shoot the meteors. Yes, he makes a pew pew sound every time he hits them. When he's Imposter it's pretty easy to tell, because he keeps following big groups and hopes to give himself some cred. He's the only player who's ever been convinced to vote himself off. 

Inarizaki

Osamu | Brown His only goal playing this game is to kill Atsumu as imposter. It doesn't matter if someone is beside them. He will deadass kill Atsumu in a room filled with people just for spite. When he gets ejected, the dead chat will be filled with Atsumu and Osamu arguing with eachother.

Atsumu | Lime Green When Atsumu is crew, he tries to be group leader. He likes to think he is this game's expert but the truth is, he always gets his facts wrong. He is like the walmart version of Kenma. Will accuse people for not doing keys and ends up ejecting crew members. People eventually stop letting him take the lead. Also,  he runs whenever he sees Osamu.

Kita | Red He gets disconnected 5 seconds into the game. His internet connection is Awful with a capital A. He never really ends up playing, and the one game his internet didn't fail him, he spent the whole time standing in the spawn area because he didn't know what he had to do.

Shiratorizawa

Tendou | Red He only has 2 modes when he plays. Total prick and hacking total prick. Whether he's imposter or not, Tendou doesn't do a single task and follows people around the entire game. He likes to hang out on vents and messes up lights on purpose. He's also the only guy who hacks the game just to skip emergency meetings. Tendo calls it "E-blocking"

Ushijima | NA He got an invite to play with everyone "among us" on some "steam" and was really confused. He boiled some water and let his kitchen fill up with steam. He told Tendou the next day it wasn't for him.

Extra

Sakusa | Yellow Sakusa refuses to do tasks out of order even if there's three in his path. He also refuses to wear hats or costumes of any kind. As imposter, Sakusa doesn't like killing people and always tries to sabotage win because he finds the killing image to be dirty. He also votes ejects people based off colours he doesn't like. Not even because he finds them sus.

#kageyama #hinata #tsukishima #bokuto #akaashi #oikawa #haikyuu #iwaizumi #osamu #ushijima #tendou #sakusa #kenma #kuroo #nishinoya #tanaka #hq!! #haikyuu headcanons #among us #kita #sugarwrites #Atsumu

[make-it-mavis]

Homesick (Entry #19)

(cw: vomiting, references to drugs) ----------

01/06/88   10:31 PM

Hey.

I’d thought that willingly bunking with Fix-it was weird. I had no idea.

You know pretty well my relationship to Wreck-it, but that’s not saying much. Anyone who sees us interacting basically knows the deal. There’s just not much more than the obvious. He’s huge, he’s dumb, and he’s got a temper shorter than a Nicelander’s arm, so, yeah, he’s my game’s resident prank and pestering dumping ground, fittingly enough. And, on the flipside, I’m small, I’m slick, I’m dang near impossible to catch when you’re that big and clumsy, and even when he does, and he throws me across the freakin’ map, I enjoy it. I’d wanna smash my face into the bricks, too, if I were him.

It felt a little close to insanity, then, thinking of welcoming myself to sleep on those bricks. I had basically nothing in my favor, other than the fact that we’ve never had a… y’know, serious fight, and very occasionally we’ll call a truce and rant about Fix-it over some root beers. Not much, but it had to count for something, right?

In any case, the arcade closed like any night. I was leaning back against my little lumpy brick knoll and idly plucking at my guitar by the time I heard those big elephant feet clomping on the bricks. I braced myself. Good or bad, it’d be uncomfortable.

“Alright, y’little guttersnipe, what did you leave me this time?”

He seemed to be talking more to himself than me. I guess he thought I’d left. Fair assumption -- why would I have stayed?

“Still here, trash gorilla.”

“What the--!?”

Stomp, stomp, stomp. He stood next to me, stance primed to smash if provoked. I didn’t bother looking up.

He barked, “You!”

“Me.”

“You wanna tell me what you’re doing in my home?”

He certainly didn’t sound happy, but I heard way more apprehension in his voice than anger. He obviously hadn’t forgotten what he’d seen on Niceland’s doorstep the night before. Remembering the look on his face just made me wish even more dearly that I had anywhere else to go. 

I paid more attention to my guitar than him, hoping he would give up prematurely. “No, not really.”

“Oh, well, in that case, sure, just hunker down and make yourself a little nest without even kind of asking me.”

“Wayyy ahead of ya.”

Buttons easily pressed, he growled, “You got until the count of five to tell me what you’re up to, before I bowl you right down into the river, got it?”

“Sure you can count that high, monkey man?”

“Y’know what, let’s make it THREE. One…”

I rubbed my forehead, sporting a vicious withdrawal headache. I’d been brainstorming all day on excuses to throw at him, but always came up short. How do I explain away willingly staying in a dump with Wreck-it?

“Two…”

I finally looked up at him, with the sharpest glare I had. “I had nowhere else to go, okay! Happy now?!”

Wreck-it wavered for a second, like I’d thrown a ball at his head. He squinted, suspicious. “Wait. What do you mean? You’ve got plenty of places to go! I mean, Felix would obviously love to put you up, and--” he slowed, bogged down with memory, “--well… I guess you… were kinda screaming and smashing stuff up there this morning, so... maybe you’re… still mad at him or… something…”

He scratched his head. “Okay, maybe not Felix. But you’ve got your own place. That forest still looks pretty intact to me, sister.”

I went back to staring at my guitar. “I can’t stay there right now.”

“Why?”

“I just can’t.”

He went quiet for a minute. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his fist relax a bit and rap gently against his leg. When he spoke again, his voice was a bit lower, but still reluctant.

He said, “You’re trouble, you know.”

“Thanks.”

“Everyone’s talkin’ like you’re big trouble. Like you could be dangerous.”

“What do you think?”

He paused. “...I’unno. I’m trying to stay out of it. It all sounds like a really… y’know, delicate matter, and... that’s not exactly my thing.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about a neutral party. Part of me grimaced at the inevitability of him taking the majority’s side eventually, and part of me felt… safer, I guess. Like this guy wanted to go on pretending everything would just work itself out if he ignored it, so he’d be less likely to get up in my business. I had a glimmer of hope that we could both pretend nothing was wrong, moving forward.

I fiddled with my guitar some more. “Well… that’s probably for the best, huh.”

“But,” he growled, “you’re making it real hard to stay out of it, coming here. I just know you’re gonna get me wrapped up in this stuff, somehow. I oughtta throw you out on your keister before you get the chance.”

Looking up at him again, I asked, “Are you going to?”

His brow furrowed and his lips pressed together. He looked me up and down contemplatively, lingering in odd places. I got the impression that he was remembering the sight of me torn to ribbons. And then his eyes plainly fell to my neck. Suddenly, he looked as if he’d just read the saddest sentence of his life. Up until that point, he hadn’t noticed that I was wearing things that had belonged to you, that much was clear.

I felt the way most sprites must feel when they’re seen naked. I wanted to bury myself under the bricks.

“Gnah,” he grunted and threw his hand. “Look, if we’re really doing this, we need to lay down some ground rules. And these are real rules, not cute little make-being-bad-more-fun-for-Mavis rules. Agreed?”

“But I love those. The second kind.”

“Agreed?”

“Yes,” I leaned my head back, “obviously agreed. List your terms.”

“Okay. Rule number one -- no screaming. Everything that happened this morning? Don’t do that.”

“Noted.”

“Rule number two -- no name-calling, and-- and no no no, you look at me, right here,” he snapped his massive fingers, “when I’m telling you these, okay? Remember these -- y’know what, go ahead and write these down, while we’re at it. Take notes. Never can tell with you what you’re gonna conveniently forget. Go on, get your book out.”

Could have been worse demands, but I was still literally sick and tired, and not in the mood. I just blew a raspberry at the sky.

“Mavis.”

I blew a harder raspberry.

“Gh, you little--” my entire bag smacked me in the face, and not gently. “Don’t test me, kid. Start writing or you’re outta here.”

With a mighty groan, I did what I was told, and took down greatly paraphrased notes as he continued.

“As I was saying, rule number two,” he started counting off his fingers, “no name calling. You can’t be in my home and call me ‘trash gorilla’ or ‘homo erectus’ all the time. Leave the mean names at the door. ...Y’know, the metaphorical door.”

I raised my hand. “Question.”

“What?”

“Can I get them all out now, so they don’t slip out later?”

“Wh-- No.”

“Dang.”

“Okay, rule number three -- this is a big one. I don’t wanna wake up with anything written on me, or painted on me, or in my shirt, or stuck to my hair, or shoved in my nose, and -- y’know what, let’s just go ahead and make that, ‘Leave Ralph alone while he’s sleeping.’ I don’t turn into a toy when I close my eyes, got it?”

“Fine.”

“Rule number four -- same as rule number three, but about my stump. The stump is off limits. Don’t even sit on it. It’s not there for you.”

“Weird, but okay.”

“Rule number five -- whatever drama belongs in there,” he pointed at Niceland, “does not belong here. Okay? Don’t chuck bricks at windows or antagonize the Nicelanders or scream at Felix, none of that. They see you doing that from here, while I’m around, they’ll think I’m with you on it, you know? They’re all already not big fans of me, so don’t make that any worse.”

“Sure.”

“Uh, rule number six -- anyone throws garbage in here with food in it, that’s mine. You go get your own food.”

“Sheesh, gimme some credit. I got some standards on what kind of garbage I put in my body.”

He glared. “Just stay away from mine, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I wrote it down.

“Number seven… you know, just don’t steal anything in general, food or otherwise. No sticky fingers.”

“What the cuss is there to steal, numbnuts? There’s nothing here but bricks and broken structures, and like, maybe a pie tin or two--”

“Ap, ap, ap!” He pointed at me. “Numbnuts? That’s name calling!”

Rule number two was gonna be harder than I thought. There are just too many names to call him, and you know I hate to waste names. “Okay, okay. Paws off, I get it. Anything else, highness?”

Wreck-it squinted at me, and I wondered if he was trying to decide if ‘highness’ counted as name calling. Apparently, it didn’t. But then he started looking around the expanse of bricks, obviously trying to think like me, and find any opportunities for mischief. 

“Number eight,” he continued, “don’t, uh… paint any of my bricks.”

There was a lengthy pause.

“...Why?”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe because I said so?”

“Okay, you’re really reaching, now, Wreck-it. I think you’re just about out of rules. You’ve also only got two fingers left to go,” I pointed at his eight counted fingers. “Which is, coincidentally, what she said.”

His face screwed up. “Eugh, Devs, okay, y’know what? Rule number nine -- no dirty jokes.”

“Seriously? You’re fine with Tapper’s dirty jokes!”

“Yeah, ‘cus his are nowhere near as dirty as yours! It’s GROSS, Mavis! And, just, ugh,” he pushed his hair back, pointedly looking away, “hearing how much dirty stuff you actually know about just… gives me the willies.”

“That’s what she--” the strain was nearly physical. “You’re gonna make this very hard for me. That’s what-- Ugh,” I pinched my brow, “I’m making this very hard for-- That’s-- GAHH--!!”

I threw my hat.

“Watch it,” he warned me. “Remember rule number one!”

“How can you be so squeamish!? You live and breathe GARBAGE!”

“NO DIRTY JOKES!” He pointed at me like I was a dog, continuing the trend of my cabinet-mates treating me like an animal. “THAT’S FINAL!”

“FINE! GEEZ! I’ll keep it suitable for all ages, including nine-foot-tall babies--”

“That’s name calling!”

I broke rule number one. But, to be fair, it was more of a furious shout to the stars than a scream. 

“FOR THE LOVE OF LITWAK, WHAT’S RULE NUMBER TEN!?”

“EASY, kid! This is the last one, so listen up! Rule number ten…” he had his hands on his hips, assessing me in an odd way. He was silent just a moment longer than I’d have liked, but when he spoke again, his tone was much more serious.

“Look,” he said, “I dunno what you’ve got on you, or got back in your little hideout, but I don’t want you bringing any booze or buffs here. I can’t control what you do out there, but while you’re on my bricks… you’re sober. Got it?”

I wanted to say no. My first instinct was to call it all off. The withdrawal was only flooding higher above my head with every passing hour, and the thought of being denied my release stirred up defiance in me that bordered on violent. He had no idea how useful buffs were to me. He had no idea how painfully and desperately I wanted one, just one.

But after that split-second passed, I realized there was no use getting upset. It wasn’t like I had any booze or buffs or even the capacity to get any. That would involve leaving the game, which… I wasn’t ready to think about. Besides, like I said before, the withdrawal really, really sucked. But I recognized it for what it was, and knew it would pass on its own. Hardly my first rodeo. 

The verbal reminder of how badly I wanted a buff, however, really brought back the emphasis on how bad the withdrawals were getting. Chills hit me like, well, a ton of bricks. My stomach churned and I made a grab for the bucket I’d brought with me.

“Okay,” I nodded, breathing heavy into the bucket. “Sober. Got it.”

For a second, Wreck-it seemed a mix of confused and concerned. “Are you--”

I retched. Hard.

“GEEZ LOUISE!!” His voice went way higher than natural, and I heard his feet stamp away behind me as he cried out to the Devs. Nine-foot-tall baby. From the other side of his stump, he called, “You didn’t tell me you were sick!”

“Didn’t come up ‘til now,” I didn’t have the strength to appreciate my own accidental joke. I called back, mostly into the bucket, “Don’t freak out, I don’t have a virus or anything. And don’t you dare try to make a rule about this, ‘cuz believe it or not, I ain’t doing this for fun.”

“I know that,” I could hear the eye-roll. “I’m not stupid. It just would have been nice to know what I was in for before I decided to let you stay here.”

“Well,” I was panting by that point, and the sweat was making a real comeback, “now you know. Your guest is sick. But she’ll get over it in a few days, and she’s gotten real good at silent puking.”

“...A few days, huh.”

The pounding of his fists against the brick scared the bits out of me -- just a thing he does before settling down, like a dog turning in a circle. After I heard him lie down, he asked in a tired, but not quite annoyed tone, “So… just how long are you assuming I’ll put up with you?”

I spat. “I… can’t say right now, I don’t think. But I don’t like this any more than you do. It won’t go on a second longer than it has to.”

He grunted. “If you say so, I guess.”

The conversation ended there, for a bit. I spent a while teetering right on the edge of puking, until I backed away from that edge enough to head to the river and rinse out the bucket. Since I’d started shaking so bad, climbing back up the bricks took way longer than it should have. It made me miss flying so much. Everything did.

Once I got back, I did my absolute best to arrange my nest of pillows in a comfortable way, but you can only do so much on a pile of bricks. I could feel their corners jabbing up at me no matter what. All the same, I settled in. 

After maybe ten minutes, I said, “Hey, Wreck-it.”

He grunted again.

“I’ve got some rules, too.”

“No you don’t. This is a favor I’m doing for you, in my home. You don’t get to make rules.”

“Okay,” I sighed. “Do I get to make polite requests?”

“I dunno. Are they ‘for-real’ polite or ‘Mavis’ polite?”

“For-real.” I paused. “I think.”

“...Seems unlikely. But, I’m listening.”

“Request number one -- don’t talk to anyone about me being here.”

He hummed. “Easy enough.”

“Request number two -- don’t ask me about what happened last night. About how I ended up on that doorstep. I know you’ve been thinking about it. But I’m not going to talk about it, so don’t ask. Don’t ask anything.”

“Woah, okay, okay. I wasn’t… going to. I won’t. Anything else?”

“Yeah. Don’t try to talk to me about…” my sentence derailed. I didn’t want to say your name out loud again. Felt like it would hit me too hard. “...about the 7th.”

He was silent for a long time.

“That’s fine with me.”

“...Good.” I felt just about ready to delete from exhaustion, but had the distinct feeling that sleeping would be near impossible. I was just pulling up my blanket when Wreck-it piped up again.

“Rule number eleven--”

“No. No, you’re done with those. You can’t count on your toes, now.”

“Last one, for real this time,” he insisted. “Rule number eleven -- just… just keep your dang clothes on, will ya?”

I didn’t laugh.

It was a bizarre feeling. I knew it was funny, but my sense of humor felt like wet firewood. That little spark of laughter just wouldn’t catch.

“I’ll try,” I answered, “but I still plan on bathing.”

He grumbled, but made no further comment. That was it for the night. We went about our personal businesses of trying to sleep through the wrongness of it all. It took him a bit longer than I thought it would, probably because he wanted to sleep with one eye open, but eventually, his trumpeting snores started. They’ve never really bothered me before, but getting them point-blank is really an experience. Needless to say, they were far from a lullaby. 

Not that anything resembling a lullaby would have helped. The sleeping conditions there were even worse than Niceland. Trying to sleep out in the wide open is just unnerving to me. My little nest faced away from the entirety of the map, and the dump doesn’t extend into another forest at its far end. It just fades away into blackness, farther than we’re programmed to roam. The air is cold outside of tree cover, and the bricks even more so, but nothing felt colder than that sight.

You sure can see the stars from there, though. But, of course, it was one of those nights where that’s a bad thing.

On a good day, the stars make me think there are good things even in the darkest places. The black sky here looks like it could stretch on forever, like if you flipped our game upside down, we would all fall into it and never see light again. That really freaked me out for a long time, when I first surfaced. But the more I looked at the stars and how pretty they are, the more I thought, if the sky really did go on forever, then there could be even more beautiful things out there. Including a place better than this.

But I can’t get there. That’s the bad part. Sometimes, all the stars do is make me feel trapped. The place I really belong could be out there, but I’m just stuck in a glass box I can’t break.

Feeling tiny and alone beneath that both confining and possibly endless sky, I found myself inevitably thinking of you again. I didn’t have a couch to fool myself with anymore, or any walls to imagine closing in tighter, but… I did have your scarf.

It reeked of memories. Not of events, but emotions. Smelling it felt like inhaling pure, raw panic. It made my head spin and really aggravated my nausea, but, for reasons I didn’t quite understand, I just couldn’t put it down. I knew it was keeping me up, but I didn’t care.

As I lay there awake, feverish as hell, smelling a mix of smoke and gasoline that was so distinctly you, staring up at the stars, I just couldn’t stop thinking… did you do what I never could, and find a way to get past them?

If you did, where did you go?

If you did, how could I ever hope to find you?

If you did, why the hell did you leave me here alone?

#fanfiction #fanfic #wreck it ralph #make it mavis #turbo #original character #homesick #i fuckin love writing ralph and mavis lmao