#i don't know who is still around and who is active and like--

[withahappyrefrain]

for bradley and birdie! but i feel like he’s the one who doesn’t like scary movies 🤭

purposely suggesting a horror movie (even though they know they themselves hate horror movies) just so they have an excuse to cuddle up for the night

A chance to combine my love of horror movies with Bradley & Birdie? Don't have to tell me twice!

"Whatcha wanna watch?" Bradley's mustache tickles your cheek, then your nose when his lips move to kiss you there.

"Is it my pick tonight?" You giggled, fingers gripping the cable knit sweater that currently adorned his body.

"Sure is, got full reign Birdie." His words give you pause. Full reign? Did that mean-

"What's that horror movie you always go on about?" Bradley confirms, as if he could read your mind. He couldn't lie, your raised eyebrows kinda gave it away.

"You mean Hereditary? You would be okay watching that?"

Bradley nuzzles against your body, his head laying against your chest, your fingers toying with his sun kissed hair as he nodded.

"If it means I get to lay like this, absolutely," Bradley's words are genuine, so you grab the remote to find the chosen movie.

"This movie isn't that scary. It's creepy, but it's not scary." Bradley has now put all his body weight on you, like a mustached weighted blanket. Your fingers were idly scratching his scalp with your nails. If Bradley was a cat, he would absolutely be purring.

You could only chuckle, having seen the film over a dozen times, "Famous last words Roo."

"Like the kid is creepy and clearly grandma is haunting Toni Collete." so he had been paying attention.

"It's a slow burn, that's all I'll say," was your final warning. If it weren't for Bradley loving wrapping his arms around you, you would have been able to adopt a more serious tone. But how could you when he kept trying to get as close to you as physically possible?

Bradley shrugged. He was active duty in the Navy. Horror movies weren't his thing, mainly because he always thought he had seen enough in his lifetime.

"Birdie, what the absolute fuck?" You simply giggle, a stark juxtaposition to the image of a decaying head on the screen.

"It only gets worse," your tone was bright and happy, not matching the words at all.

"This is your favorite? You're sick, you know that? Might have to send you away," he rests his chin on your chest, looking directly at you with a lovesick expression.

"Oh, I one hundred percent would have been sent to the sea side for hysteria in the early nineteen hundreds," you grab a piece of popcorn, popping it into your mouth, "I think we should bring that treatment back. Going to the beach would probably calm me down, especially if you're playing football there."

Bradley scoffs, mocked objection lacing his words, "You really can't stop sexualizing your old man, can you?"

"It's better than making grandpa jokes. I still can't believe you were too old during the Naked Brothers Band era," you roll your eyes, although a smittened smile remains on your face.

"And I still can't believe a prime television network named a show that. So like, how freaky does this get?" There's thinly veiled concern in his question.

"Oh, we haven't even reached the tip of the iceberg," you pause, "Just let me know if it gets too much. We can watch something else, like Airplane or-"

Bradley shooks his head, "No, this is an important movie to you, I wanna watch."

It's then you realize that Bradley isn't in it for the spooks, or those Pillsbury ghost cookies (though they are a treat). No, he was sitting through this movie to be with you, to hold you.

It almost made you want to stop the movie before it got to the fucked up part.

Almost.

[thebramblewood]

this is in a similar vein to an ask you got recently but do you have any tips for those who are interested in sims 4 (or even other games like ts3 and ts2) storytelling? I write fanfiction but I think making sims 4 stories could be a fun venture. Anyway, thank you for your time! I love your stories so very much they're literally my hyperfixation!

Well, that makes two of us because it's literally my hyperfixation. I think I've shared bits of advice before, so some of this might sound familiar, but here are some things I think are important to remember (and I tried to be concise, I swear).

Write the story you want to write. Obviously, it's a great feeling when something takes off and people get invested. But if you pursue an idea only because you think Simblr will like it, you probably won't be inspired for long and it'll probably show. I've been very lucky with my story, but it didn't blow up overnight. Early on, I was thrilled to get double digit notes or one reblog or comment and was admittedly disappointed when I put a lot of effort into something and nobody seemed to notice. But I kept going because I was obsessed and wanted to see it through, and that's more true now than ever.

Start with low stakes and allow yourself to evolve. Before I was on Simblr, I made Sims stories with no poses or visual enhancements or fancy editing. I wrote them for myself, and I loved every minute of it, but they also gave me a solid foundation for the kind of storytelling I do now. Even after starting this blog, I eased myself into it. I learned how to use poses and Reshade, then moved on to more advanced editing techniques, then moved on to teaching myself to make poses and very basic CC. If you try to learn it all at once, you're more likely to give up because you're overwhelmed. Take your time and make peace with the fact that perfection isn't possible. Everyone's always learning!

Take advantage of the fact that Sims is a game. Even though I've been a creative writer for most of my life, I don't come up with fully-fleshed, elaborate Sims stories from scratch. It started off with my legacy and not wanting every generation to feel the same. I thought about gameplay I hadn't experienced yet and centered each generation's story around that. Even with HZID, I just wanted to make and play with vampires! That's it! Initially, I used a lot of gameplay to convey Helena's college experiences, and I still try to incorporate it when I can. It can really be a great base to spark your creativity if you don't know where to start.

Don't have a life outside your story. I'm joking. Kind of. I'm not a very social person and I don't like leaving my house if I don't have to. This leaves me with a lot of time for working on story things. Honestly, I could probably stand to work on it less. But for better or worse, I'm doing story-related things most nights and weekends, and even if I'm not doing anything, I'm thinking about it. It's probably mental illness, but we'll just call it passion. At the same time, it's also important to take breaks! If you're feeling burnt out, step away for a while. If you can't make yourself step away completely (raises hand), just edit the script or spin your blorbos around in CAS or something rather than going straight for posing a scene.

Follow and interact with other storytellers. This is probably the most important thing, and as someone who struggles with social anxiety it was the hardest for me to do. But I try to make a point of keeping up with other stories, commenting, and reblogging. Not only will the amazing talent of other writers inspire you, but you're building meaningful connections that make them more likely to want to interact with your story. There's no denying it feels amazing to watch your audience grow. But no one's going to see you if you don't make an effort to be seen, as scary as it can be. So try to be active in the community and support other storytellers the way you want to be supported!

[rinnokanojo]

horror movies... [itoshi rin x reader]

★ in which rin watches a horror film with his new gf for the first time (aka justice for cinnamoroll). ★

(not proofread)

"to be honest, rin, i hate horror movies." you looked over sheepishly to your boyfriend of a few months, who, to the untrained eye, seemingly made no change to his stoic facial expression. but you could see the slight downturn of his cheeks, his eyes stilling in disappointment. though the two of you hadn't been dating long, and there was still a lot to learn about each other, you prided yourself in being able to notice even the subtle changes in rin's expression. seeing him with this look on his face made you flail desperately to fix the situation.

"b-but i don't mind watching one! we watched a film of my choice, it's only fair we watch one of yours now."

you and rin were having a movie night. the couch in your apartment was decked out in blankets and cushions, and, most importantly, the oversized cinnamoroll plushie rin had won you on your first date to the arcade. snacks and popcorn lay on the coffee table in front of you, and were half-eaten or discarded, for the sake of not ruining your appetite for dinner (rin was meticulous about that sort of thing, and you love him for it). this was your first movie night in a few months, owing to the busy schedules of both you and your footballer boyfriend, so you were eager to make it perfect. you had just finished watching Pride and Prejudice, one of your favourites.

you were sat directly next to rin, huddled under the same blanket and thighs touching, but pointedly not cuddling. the both of you were relatively new to relationships, and while you have cuddled before, you were conscious of cuddling him too close or too much. you'd like to think you know rin well, very well, better than others. but that didn't mean you knew when he was completely comfortable with physical affection. for one thing, he rarely initiated it, opting for tight hugs and not much else. though you loved physical affection, you didn't want to make rin uncomfortable.

"we don't have to watch this, you know." rin starts, "it's not a big deal."

"yes, we do! i want to watch the things you like, rin." you say brightly, turning to the side to smile up at him. he looks at you, again with a somewhat blank expression, but the tinge of red on his ears reassures you that your message was received. he huffs slightly, pressing play and bringing the just-delivered box of pizza to his lap, offering you the first slice.

"i'm still surprised you agreed to get pizza," you laugh, holding the slice delicately with your hands, "what about your protein goals?"

"one day off will do no harm."

the film had started, but you, with the ever active brain, began to feel anxious. one of the main things, or perhaps the only thing, you dislike about horror films are the jumpscares. you were incredibly easy to scare, and jumpscares had your heart pounding and your body airborne. it wasn't a fun feeling, and the scary storylines of horror films made it even worse. the last time you watched a horror film, the ghosts would be the only thing you could see when you closed your eyes (and, consequently, you couldn't go to sleep properly for a few days after watching). you would probably have to deal with not being able to sleep for the next few days again, but that was well worth it to watch rin's favourite film.

there was one thing, you think, that might help dealing with the scares of the horror film playing in front of you right now, and that would be if you could cuddle up to your boyfriend and hide your face in his strong chest. rin had a special talent for making you feel safe without trying, just by putting his arms around you. you start to daydream about being scooped up into rin's arms, him telling you that 'you're fine, you're safe' and 'it's just a movie'. but you snap out of it easily, scolding yourself for being too presumptuous. if rin wanted to cuddle, he would have initiated it himself. having finished your pizza, you grip onto your cinnamoroll plushie instead, bracing yourself for the jumpscares in the film.

rin, on the other hand, has not been able to concentrate since he first pressed play. he had been watching you out of the the corner of his eye, smushing your cute, round cheek against the oversized plushie in your arms. you were so cute, he thought, with your hair loose, falling gracefully over your shoulders. your nose was slightly scrunched, probably in anticipation of a jumpscare, and rin thought it was the most adorable thing ever. the pajamas you had on were fluffy, making you look like a plushie in your own right. you looked so...huggable. there was an odd feeling in rin's stomach, a weird churning, at the sight of you cuddling something. something other than him, perhaps? he sighed quietly, and brushed it off as being due to the greasy pizza he had just eaten. maybe one day off can do harm.

"AAH!" you screamed, as the murderer in the film appeared out of nowhere behind the main character's mother (she was almost certainly going to die now). you gripped onto cinnamoroll for dear life, squeezing your eyes shut and burying you face into one his ears. at the same time, rin gasped and reached out for you instinctively, hesitating once his hand reached your shoulder. he contemplated something, thoughts whirring as he slowly recoiled his arm, eyes fixated on your scared form. you looked back at him, smiling apologetically for your loud scream.

"sorry, rin. i'm so sorry. gosh, how embarassing, haha." rin frowned at your words, partly because you had nothing to be sorry for, and partly because you were still cuddling that damn plushie.

"it's...fine. are you okay?"

"yeah, i'm oka-AAAH!" the father had just now been murdered also. why was everyone dying in this film? you began whimpering slightly, squeezing poor cinnamoroll that it looked like it might explode. rin frowned deeply, and he huffed loudly as he turned from you back to the tv screen. you looked over at him questioningly as he grumbled under his breath.

"rin? is something wrong? oh, am i being too loud? i'm sorry, i'll try not to scr-"

"that's not it. it's fine, don't worry."

"what's the matter then?"

you were now turned fully towards rin as he diligently faced the tv, not being able to look you in the eye in fear of choking up. stealing a single glance, he huffed again at the sight of that stupid white dog still snuggled tightly within your arms. he made eye contact with cinnamoroll, scolding himself at the fact that he was jealous over a damn plushie.

"y'know...if you get scared...we can.." he trailed off, and now you were even more curious as to what was wrong with your boyfriend. was he annoyed at you getting scared? no, he did say that wasn't it. was he going to suggest to turn the movie off? maybe he thought you weren't having fun.

"don't worry about me rin! i want to watch this film with you - you said it's one of your favourites. don't turn it off because of me!"

and there you go again, with that blinding smile and that sparkle in your eyes. rin felt weak, the churning feeling in his stomach not ceasing. he coughed and turned away, cheeks burning furiously. after he didn't respond, you looked back up at him and blinked inquisitively.

the sounds of suspense could be heard from the tv screen, making you gasp softly and snap your head back to the movie, before burying your head back into the plushie. rin's frown deepened. this is so stupid.

in an instant, the cinnamoroll plushie was pried from your hands and tossed to the other side of the couch. you mouth opened in an 'o', watching wordlessly as rin threw your plushie, turning back to you with determination in his eyes.

"rin? what–oh–"

he took a breath, then hooked his arm under your knees, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders. in one fell swoop, you were hoisted onto rin's leg, hands landing onto his chest, all the while your bewildered expression stuck on his ever-stoic face.

though his eyebrows were furrowed, his cheeks were a soft pink, and his eyes held a gentle look in them, as if they were asking, pleading you to lean on him. "if you get scared, i'll hold you. you don't need that plushie." he says in a low, soft tone.

you smiled, your blush matching his. keeping your hands firmly on his chest, you buried yourself deeper as he rearranged the blanket atop of you both.

and when the next jumpscare made its way onto the screen, you screamed unapologetically, burying your face into rin's chest while he soothingly rubbed your back. a ghost of a smile played on his lips on account of how cute you looked in that moment.

"it's okay, you're okay...i'm here." he whispered.

"thanks, rin."

he squeezes you reassuringly, taking one last look of victory at the forgotten cinnamoroll plushie.

[kittyit]

One thing I don't like about trans critical spaces is how they are focused on trans women being unattractive and 'cringe.' this is just my personal experience, but I have been sexually victimized by multiple trans women, most of whom passed, many of whom were skinny and beautiful and most of which had high brow tastes and no interest in anime or other cringe topics. one of these TIMs was a serial sexual assailant and I think probably attracted to underage boys, and she was also beautiful and charismatic. Meanwhile, I also know multiple trans women who are good people and don't infringe on female spaces but who are conventionally "ugly", broad-shouldered, and have masculine interests. It also seems like the only thing TIMs criticize about each other publically is being "ugly", large, or fat.

my position has consistently been for about 15 years that mocking someone's appearance is not a feminist act. it simply isn't.

mocking appearance is essentially a cruel hobby, it's primate social aggression we're using our huge brains for. it's really fun, and that's why almost everyone does it. i sometimes do it too, in private, in intimate company, and it's enjoyable. i say this to clarify that despite my position, i don't set myself apart or above from women who do it. i do it too. and it's constant in basically every subculture online. julie bindel actually posted on her facebook recently troubled about this same thing. as you said, it's so common in queer/trans circles too, the long-forgotten 2013 values of tenderqueerism fallen to the wayside. stan culture, politics, just basically everything...i really can't stress enough that in my opinion, it is a hobby

mocking appearances is not feminist or activism. it quite often is anti-feminist. it's kindergarten stuff to not judge a book by its cover. it doesn't matter what a male person looks like - he is still male and all considerations that apply to male people apply to him. i don't need to think a male person has a hideous appearance to criticize him for any of the oppressive acts he's doing. focus on appearance (or other unrelated personal attacks) often takes the sting out of a criticism of someone's character, morals or actions and makes your argument easier to dismiss. and of course the now mocked & dismissed concept that when you rip into someone's appearance, you do friendly fire to anyone around who shares those features. but of course this doesn't matter to anyone because it's 1. so fun 2. we're so used to it 3. everyone is doing it 4. so who cares? (I do. However)

i also just can't really scrape up that much finger wagging anymore at women who do spend a huge amount of time blowing off steam mocking the insane parodies that trans women present as. it's basically evil imaginative play. it's just not activism and acting like it is, as you said, is really detrimental to radical feminism being understood as a feminist way of thought that deeply affects women's lives.

as for the rest of this, have you read pronouns are rohypnol? you do not have to call a serial rapist pedophile you knew she. there is no one here but us, he cannot hear you. i encourage you to free up processing power in your mind, especially if you've survived trans male violence. calling the men who harmed you he can be a turning point in reclaiming your own sense of reality, it was for me

[cdroloisms]

a little ramble about dreblr, meta, and the ever evolving nature of this fandom, i guess?

i don't mean to soapbox, this is mostly just going to be vomiting some thoughts into a post. some recent stuff and a post or two have had me thinking about this fandom and how different it is from when dsmp was ongoing. it's,, pretty obvious that the fandom is quite a bit smaller and less active than that time, and there are generally a lot fewer people actively posting meta and such every day--which isn't necessarily a bad thing, and is natural obviously considering that the dsmp ended almost 2 years ago, but does mean that the culture around (?) meta and such has shifted, as well. it's one of those things too i think that is felt so much more obviously in dreblr, which is an even smaller group within this fandom that formed in response to uhhh being very much considered unwelcome by the greater fandom at the time.

that being said, as is the nature of all fandom, dreblr is still a community of people who are largely strangers who have gathered together because of one commonality: very strong feelings and often very strong opinions on the dream smp and c!dream. and i think when the fandom was more active, the entire fandom felt a lot more like a "pvp enabled" zone, lmao -- it was every other day when there'd be some new batshit meta about c!dream or some stream to react to and analyze and fight people about and whatever. since then, though, with the dsmp gone, the fandom has become quieter -- which i think has allowed some of the variation in opinions within dreblr become more and more obvious? and also become a sort of source of friction.

again, this is normal for any fandom. i'm certainly not here to agree with everyone about c!dream always, lmao. but the vagueing of takes is always more awkward on both sides when it's someone where you share more of the same circles. at the end of the day, it's up to each individual blogger's discretion to choose what they will or won't post on their own blog, but at the same time ... when it comes to the community, just speaking for myself, i don't want a super high barrier of entry when it comes to people feeling like they can't join this fandom unless they've got [xyz] experience or [xyz] takes.

when it comes to actual analysis of the source material, though, keeping meta a safe place for people to say "no, i don't agree with this take because of [xyz]" is important as well, which always raises the question of how said disagreements should be handled. and again, i'm no authority, i'm not here to tell people what to do. personally, when it comes to my own blog, i don't like to post very much directly about any one blogger, but I know I've definitely written posts inspired by specific takes before as well as screenshots of takes from the fandom's heyday, etc. i don't necessarily feel uncomfortable with this ...? but at the same time, i know that vagueposts can be a source of discomfort, especially if they're about your take in particular (speaking from experience) -- so it's you know. not the easiest line to draw, I guess, especially when we're talking about a community where different people are going to have different levels of comfort with what they post on their own blogs and what other blogs do in response to their takes. and whatever.

vagueposting, i think, has been common in the tumblr dsmp fandom for a long time, and especially in dreblr -- direct engagement in the past errr usually went badly, so a habit formed of keeping everything we did kind of within our own spaces (hence why many of us don't even tag c!dream or even dreblr on most of our posts; keeping everything untagged, or keeping the tagging system restricted to our own blogs, limited the possibility of trouble). that being said, vagueing within dreblr has become more common, i think, as disagreements within dreblr have become more and more obvious in the time since the dsmp ended. (just for the obvious example: i think it's a bit of an open secret that i, personally, strongly disagree with much of the common depictions of c!drunz in this fandom. i've written some meta about this before, as well as some responses to meta--which i enjoyed greatly, believe me--but i've also noticed (perhaps coincidence) an uptick in c!drunz positive meta every time i or someone else makes a post that maybe skews more negative. which is normal, don't get me wrong, but also a pattern i've noticed. i'm also very aware that someone the arguments i may bring up as counterarguments or structure my posts around arguing against are based on actual arguments i've seen while in this space, which i'm aware is an easy source of friction within dreblr.) and it's easy to say "don't take it personally when it's just metaanalysis," but that's easier said than done, lmao, especially depending on the tone of the vaguepost and a myriad of other factors.

i'm not saying that i have the answers. or, for that matter, a single answer. the boundaries i set aren't going to be the same as the boundaries other people set, for one, and i have no desire to police what other people do on their own blogs. i do miss, sometimes, the more collaborative and discussion-based meta experience of this fandom when it was more active--i might try to more actively reblog posts (including those i don't necessarily agree with) to discuss this server and these characters, bc at the end of the day that is kind of why we're here. personally, i've always drawn a pretty sharp distinction between fanwork and analysis -- i think it's pretty bad form to criticize people's AUs In General (not that i've not. been guilty of it in the past, but i try at least to keep it to criticizing more general patterns within fanwork; look, i'm not going to claim a moral high ground, i love bitching way too much and should probably get a handle on that but asj;lkfdsaf) but when we're talking meta about the source material, barring shit like. you know, harassment and otherwise abusive behavior, i do consider it more of a free-for-all. at the same time, i know that these standards can lead to newer fans feeling like they're going to be booed out the door for sharing their thoughts, which, i mean, isn't great 😭😭😭 fresh eyes can bring a lot of really cool new insights, and it'd suck pretty damn bad to miss that because they don't feel welcome, yknow?

anyway, this is a very inconclusive post, but i thought i'd just throw some of my thoughts out as someone who has been here for a decently long time. and if you want to discuss w/ me, inbox and dms are always open :)

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

So... SKs...

I need to talk about my positioning on the Zenix/Vylad/Malik Death thing too because i may have changed that opinion a teeny bit with a tiny bit of speculation... but i digress. that'll be another post, i'm just warning you that the yap travelling circus is coming to your city

anyways

SKs!

tw, this is discussions about SKs, and so will be talking about themes involving death, torture, and manipulation.

Lore about Sks really becomes defined after Laur becomes one, because he's a major character and it really makes sense that way, but we do get a lot of lore even before he becomes a recurring character, really. Especially through Zenix and the storylines adjacent to him. I really do think that Sk lore was peaking when Zenix was one of the major antagonists for the series, because it was just very interesting to have to explore that he was experiencing it away from the main storyline, and Aphmau would have to make an active effort to understand and build that knowledge, and even as she is starting to know more she is still kind of in denial that he is capable of the things he is doing.

And this becomes especially interesting that she is learning this through other people, when we compare it to what Zenix himself says about being a Shadow knight.

SKs have been around since episode one, maybe not in the way they were later developed to be, but the idea of this little band of antagonists that follow 'The King' and want lords dead, and are stunting villages, and we don't really know why except for monarchism. And as we build upon our knowledge over the episodes we find out they don't live in an active monarchy, but that the King is some supernatural force, and that the little band of villains are too, and they're trying to bring him back.

And then we get, in episode 31/32, that not all SKs are guards, and they don't only kill lords. Of course, the baker is only a knight in training, but the idea remains. The following of the King is ideological, they don't only recruit guards off of some need for the bond between lords and guards, they will recruit whoever is willing to do what they want, kill who needs to be killed.

In fact, the first time we ever really get the guard/lord talk in regards to Shadowknights is in episode 35, by Zenix. Zenix seems to have this idea that Guards and Lords are intrinsically connected, that the life of one is dependant of the death of the other, and there is always this idea that guards are expendable and so they are the ones to die and the lords live. However, if the guards kill the lords instead, they become the King's loyal servants, blessed with power, with immortality.

He cannot be killed like when he was human.

This is the origin of the idea that Sks are not only immortal, but have to kill the one they love most to transform into that immortal state. And it's not exactly what he's saying. He's saying that guards are always expected to die for their lords, but then the King tells them 'hey you kill your lord, i'll let you live forever' and then they're like 'oh neat' and kill their lords to gain that immortality and power.

I understand how this little rant of his later turned into that lore, but i think the implications here are much more interesting. Again, he says 'No one can touch me! No one can kill me like when i was human' and whilst you can take that to mean that he is no longer mortal, it also kind of reads like he has been killed or at least severely harmed before before... which has been implied by Azura earlier on, and sort of himself in the same conversation, where he says 'Garroth told you... didn't he? How he found me?' 'I wasn't in such good shape then either.' What this all overall implies upon SK lore is that the King preys upon victims to find followers, he takes those who have been victimised before, and he offers them the chance to not have to suffer that way again, they just have to do as he tells them to.

It's not some urge they cannot shake off, it's not this feeling deep inside of them that they cannot remove. They have been hurt they have been offered to not have to never be hurt again. It's a choice, through and through, but in the same way it isn't. It's not this primal hunger for blood, so much as a scrabbling for survival, it's fear, and desperation, it's a needing to not suffer through that trauma again and so they say yes. They say yes, because they will do these awful things because it's better to do bad to others than them do bad to you.

Later lore has them do these things because Shad has taken their bodies, and brought them back, changed their memories and given them the urge and the want to kill. He preys on victims because he can only turn those in his clutches into Knights. Earlier lore has him turning people by ideology, he is preying on those who he knows are already vulnerable, he is not limited by scope of domain, but merely by how convincing he can be. And that is terrifying.

Guards aren't killing lords because they need to kill who matters most to them, because they can't stop themselves no matter how much they try.

they're doing it because he told them to.

[luminousglimmer-a]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ #𝑙𝑢𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟

independent &   private &   selective     𝐿𝒰𝑀𝐼𝒩𝐸 / 𝒯𝑅𝒜𝒱𝐸𝐿𝐸𝑅 of hoyoverse's 𝘎𝘌𝘕𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘕 𝘐𝘔𝘗𝘈𝘊𝘛  

                           written by mikaiyah / mimi

                         ↻       ✦        ♥       ✦      carrd

[magentagalaxies]

always found this little parallel between how scott speaks about buddy cole vs danny husk fascinating:

(top quote is from this 2017 vulture interview, bottom quote is from paul myers' 2018 book "one dumb guy")

'he's smarter than me. braver than me. he's better than me'' vs ''danny may not be the smartest or the bravest but he's a very decent man''

[manasurge]

bleh

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

nah but like

they're "seiros lapdogs" because they're fighting back against the people who attacked them completely unprovoked??? also because it so happens that thales is at garreg mach so they have to go there to reclaim the area to defeat him???

i just hate this because it's just perpetuating things about faerghus and its people that just aren't true. it frames it like they jumped into the war willingly for the church and that they're only here for the church. like nah buddy, it's not faerghus' fault you're out here fighting to protect thales and ludwig.

it also is batshit to me how he and leopold are fighting to stop faerghus from advancing but like... they know what's happening to the empire and that edelgard isn't even calling the shots anymore, yet they still stupidly fight for the very person who is literally razing their country and burning their villages. they know the empire is in shambles and that the kingdom isn't targeting them and is specifically aiming for gm to get it back from who? thales; who, mind, at this point is in his real form and not posing as arundel anymore. everything is laid out plainly, but they still act like faerghus is the bad guy.

but yeah, okay. faerghus BaD for defending themselves, fighting back, finding out who is behind all the puppeteering and heading to take him out. sure, that makes them seiros lapdogs. like what are you, an agarthan mouthpiece??? may as well be like yeah you go retreat and leave you agarthan lapdog. if they don't realize it's Someone Else in charge of course, then ludwig lapdog works fine too.

and it sucks because other than this shit, i like waldemar just fine as a character. it's just like, it feels like they forced someone to have to stick in that final faerghus BaD insult before the grand finale so they just randomly picked someone to remind us that faerghus is Always Wrong as long as they continue to fight back and prevent being attacked in the future.

waldemar here is just basically ag caspar. fighting and risking his life for thales, who is destroying the empire and basically holding the emperor hostage. if the writing here had any decent plot points, they would've all stopped and have been like hey wait, shouldn't we be fighting to get our emperor back? why are we stopping these guys from killing the people who are destroying this country?

and like, they literally went from siding with ludwig during the insurrection to siding with edelgard in this timeline to... jumping immediately back to ludwig as soon as he was at the top of the food chain (thales notwithstanding). as soon as the person in charge changes, they jump ship immediately; then of course get mad that the people they attacked are coming after them... and fighting them as they defend the very people who are letting adrestia become a literal, physical ruin.

it really just tells me that these people don't care about adrestia itself, but status, power and wealth. they don't care about the country itself as long as they're doing well. that's like, the only thing i can get from still fighting with/for ludwig/thales. the fact that they just fight for ludwig again as soon as edelgard is out of commission is also pretty gross to me. they have no loyalty at all.

and it's like, i want to like waldermar and leopold, but they come across as just selfish, entitled and only there for their own asses to be covered. and i get that - that is a realistic take on politicians, but the fact that the game regularly loops back around to faerghus BaD despite that and despite portraying these people as opportunistically selfish is like... what are they even trying to write??

[sysig]

One better (Patreon)

[icewindandboringhorror]

I have found a beautiful perfect humble rock specimen that is light yellow with a weird dark yellowy brown lining, somewhat resembling a chunk of smoked gouda cheese... effervescent

[jimmystrudel]

Sorority girl rushtok rant

[kanene-yaaay]

Secrets and the Pros and Cons of Not Running Away

Kanene's notes: I will receive no constructive criticism on this, I saw a character that just keeps being destroyed over and over because he loves and cares too much and since mah bros on that island only SUFFER, I *WILL* take the matters onto my own hands and give them all the tickles and fluff thank you so much for understanding.

Anyway, the Happy Pills Arc is my absolute fave until now, and this animatic is my new obsession. It doesn't has anything to do with the fic, really, but I think it deserves more love drtyuiklkjhg.

Warnings: This is a tickle fanfic. It has hurt/comfort, fluff and some angsty thoughts, but nothing too dark. It happens after the Happy Pills stuff and doesn't follow the canon timeline. Ticklish!Forever and Ler!Philza, Ler!Bad, Ler!Pac, Ler!Mike, Ler!Richarlyson, Ler!Tallulah and Ler!Chayanne. It is 8,000 words long.

[~*~]

Forever woke up. 

His eyes hurt when they opened so he kept them closed for a few minutes more, watching the flash of memories run behind his eyelids in blurry movements and sounds. 

For the first time in a while his mind was silent, clear from all the effects of what the Federation did to him. His feelings no longer exploded crazy in his chest as they often did during the last few days, fighting to survive before the chemicals from the drugs washed them over and got suppressed by a blinding, fake happiness.

Their kids were gone. 

Richarlyson was gone. His son disappeared in thin air and there were no clues or hints that showed any single way to get them back or even know where they went. 

The island was in scrambles, empty. 

There were explosions and grieving and chaos everywhere. Every parent doing any and everything to cope with the fact that from day to night they’ve got what was the most important for them ripped right from their fingers. 

The N.I.N.H.O, his project (his responsibility) didn’t work out this time and they lost everything because of it.

Badboyhalo was losing his colors. Baghera disappeared. Cellbit straight out begged him to not leave him alone during all of this. Mike hadn’t been seen in a long time. Etoiles was trying to keep their hopes up. Everyone asked him what they should do, now. What would he do as their president. 

And what did he do? He fucking lost it. He let his feelings get over his head, exploded everything that he could put his eyes on, demolished his base with TNT and threatened Cucurucho, forced the Federation to do a throwback just so they would have an island to put their feet on. Made the Federation see him as a threat and force those pills on him.

He left everyone. His family. His friends.

(What more could he do?)

And everyone should've left him too.

…

And yet…

And yet Pac jumped head first to save him. Accepting to go under Cucurucho’s “treatment” so he could analyze the drugs and find a cure for it. No matter how much he was shaking in fear the entire time, how bad the Federation treated him before or how there was just no certainty that his plan would even work

And yet Philza saw under his mask of smile, past the point of his gun and right into the pain in his eyes in his lowest moment and said that everything would be fine, that he still trusted him, that he knew who he was and how much he cared about the eggs. He said they would find a way to solve things out.

And yet Cellbit didn’t let him go for a single second. He followed him no matter the instability, during those painful moments of consciousness, beyond the fake minutes of happiness and slipped past his traps just to go and pull him out of it. He shouted and hugged and taunted and broke and fought dirty and did what he could to bring him back.

And yet Bad still talked and answered him, even with how much he was hurting, even with the bombs and screams and the dismissing he came back over and over again with his chats and banters and discussions that so easily led Forever to the trap that would come to save his life.

Once again, there were tears in his eyes. 

They were too his family. Forever was the one who put himself under Cucurucho’s radar by going apeshit and bombarding the entire island and they were the ones who saved him from that white fucking bear. From himself. From the Happy Pills.

He cried.

(What else could he do?)

Agony and hope danced in harmony in his chest, sucking all his other senses to nothing and filling his soul with every emotion under the sun at the same time. It was overwhelming but good to be free to feel so easily. It was horrible that he knew how it was like to miss this freedom so much. It was empty to feel this despair all over again. It was good, no, essential to know he was not alone.

Almost hopeful, even.

And yet their children were gone.

And yet everyone was kind of lost.

And yet they needed someone solid, a strong leader to step in.

Forever didn’t feel strong.

(What would he do?)

He wiped his tears. Sat on the bed. Got up. Put back the flag on his shoulder. Took a deep breath, listening to the very known voices coming out of the infirmary that made his entire face change to a (this time genuine) happy, tired and relieved kind of smile.

The president of Quesadilla Island woke up.

(And he didn’t have any idea of how much everyone had been waiting to show him how much they were happy about it.)

[~*~]

It all started in very tiny ways, as most things did, easy to miss if you didn’t know where to look. 

The first time it happened Forever was at favela. He had just finished fixing the elevator from the Karaoke and was watching the sunset (Hi, Bobby) wash over the beach in a dance of colors at the top of the building, resting on the parapet. Pac was somewhere close, building more houses or getting in trouble with Fit, but, besides them, it was just him, his memories and Copacabana beach.

Forever laid his head in his arms, with a long sigh, closing his eyes and just letting the wind mess his hair and clear his thoughts, enjoying the brief moment of peace before he started thinking about more plans and projects to fill his day and mind with.

It was hard, though. When every block he put down or decoration he pulled up made the blonde turn around with a call in the tip of his tongue, words disappearing when he realized that there was no set of small footsteps following him and probably never would again because they were all gone and he was not and how could he ever even think about-

A shiver ran down his spine and made his thoughts come to a halt when he felt a light tickle in the back of his neck, making him have to move a hand out of his comfortable position to wipe the leaf or whatever out of his skin. 

His fingers made contact with nothing. Uh. Must’ve flown away already.

He was tired. Maybe he should take the rest of the day to clean his base. There were still holes from the mine traps that someone has been spreading across the island lately. Another problem for him to resolve. Looked like those were never going to end.

The tickle came back, following him even when he flinched away, with a puffed snicker falling from his tongue. His hand shot to scare whatever insect it was from his neck again but the touch was as nimble as it was soft, lightly and skillfully dancing away from his hold before it could catch him.

“Que porra.” (“The fuck.”) He tried again and again, going so far as slapping his entire arm behind him, hitting nothing.

The sensation disappeared for a brief while before running all the way across his spine, making him almost jump in the air and finally give up his comfortable position to spin around. “Que que é isso, cara!” (“What is this, man!”)

“Pfff- hahaha!”

Forever turned just in the right moment to see his short friend, with sky blue eyes shining with a playful light, pulling a black, crooked and beautiful wing behind his back, his laugh ringing across the building.

“Philza! Really?” 

“What? You wouldn’t have that problem if you wore a shirt, you know?” Forever’s shouted “WHAAAAT!” did nothing to alleviate his laughing fit, a snort not taking long to appear.

“You, you’re, you’re bullying me, man! I just came out of the hospital and you treat me like this. I can’t believe it!”

“You’re-”

“You come here, you hit me, you don’t let me rest after I get out of a coma… I am an injured, man, you know that, Philza? You’re bullying an injured man.”

“I literally,” his tune tried and failed to sound at least a tidbit serious before he descended in more laughter. “I literally didn’t even hit you!” 

Forever continued as if he didn’t hear the protest of the other, turning around and gesticulating dramatically. “You’re a bully, Philza. You’re such a bully.”

“I am doing that to remind you to put on a shirt! You just came out of the hospital, you’re gonna catch a cold.”

“Nah, nah, nah, you’re mean. You’re just so mean to me. Like, I thought we were friends, you know? But I see the truth now.” He tsked. “That is just sad, Philza. That is really sad, man.”

“Oh my fucking god.” The punch he gave on Forever’s arms didn’t even hurt, only making the president snicker louder. “Shut the fuck up.”

Forever chuckled at how done the other sounded, watching him roll his eyes and shake his head with a big smile before taking (he wasn’t resting anymore so might as well just finish his work here) the chance and walking in between the tables and chairs until he got behind the balcony. In no time he began filling the storage with drinks and food. The high, upbeat joy of banting with his friend slowly calming down.

“Actually, I am going to put back my old black suit soon. I am just taking a break from wearing suits so much, you know?”

He didn’t have to explain what the break was really for and how his old presential clothes didn’t have anything to do with it, Philza understood. 

“Take that time off, Forever, you deserve it.” His tune was soft. 

Forever smiled, wishing he could show Phil how wrong he was. A“break” definitely wasn’t on the list of things that Forever deserved at all. That anarchist was way too kind.

“Thank you very much, my friend.” He closed the cabinet door, turning around (and away), facing the entire restaurant. 

Each chair, each color and decor had been carefully picked by small , gentle claws. The building had been chosen by hand and even the balcony was built lower than normal, made so that a small child could go behind it and pretend to be a barman, sing with the melodies and enjoy the view with their family and friends. 

Signs were still spreaded there, on the restaurant, the rooms, the favela, the N.I.N.H.O, the Spawn, their home and island… None of it had been built to be just for the adults and it all brought a longing pang in his chest. 

Saudade.

They’re gone. They’re gone and he was here laughing and resting and doing nothing to rescue them and how could he be so usele-

Another soft sweep of feathers right under his chin made him flinch away with a surprised, bitten giggle, successfully making his line of thoughts disintegrate for a second time. A half smile painted his face.

“Stop with that, man! It tickles.”

Philza tilted his head slightly to the side, eyes sharp in concentration, as if just realizing something. But at the sound of Forever’s voice he blinked and let his expression become a tad more relaxed, with worried tunes.

“You just seemed to be thinking a whole lot back there. What is in your mind?”

“Nothing really important. It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, I’ve got some bad news for you then, mate. Because it will matter to me. You can tell me anything, Forever.”

And for a moment the other considered not doing that. Teleporting away or brushing his worries with another topic or a joke. But that was Philza. 

Philza, one of the most protective parents who still trusted him with Tallulah when he was away. Philza, who didn’t care about the elections but voted for him anyway. Philza, who trusted him with such a conviction and an unyielding loyalty that Forever had no idea of what he could ever have done to deserve it.

(“You saved my children.” Philza would say if he could listen to him. “You went beyond and further to save everyone’s kids for free over and over so no parent would ever carry the grief of losing them again. You did it for Richarlyson, for Tallulah, for Bobby, for Pomme, for you, for us, for free. I’m not forgetting that easily and I’m not letting you forget too.”)

And that was enough.

He stared at the beach again, the words coming easier when he was not looking at the other.

“Talullah was the one who decorated the restaurant. We were having a Karaoke Night and when we got up here she had already put all those nice trees and pretty flowers…It looks really nice.”

Philza sighed, looking ten thousands of years older.

“Yeah, she has an amazing taste.” Then he walked and stayed right in front of Forever’s view, staring right at his eyes, serious. “We’re going to find them, ok? Richas, Talullah, Chayanne, Ramon… Every single one, we’re going to get them back. So don’t let yourself give up and stay focused.”

The president, his friend, nodded.

“We will get them back.” Forever agreed. “No matter what it costs.”

[~*~] 

But Philza was a discreet fella, so things continued to be shown in tiny ways for a while. A poke when he got too distracted and his thoughts too dark, a scribble to get his attention, a sweep of feathers when he refused to stop working so much and listen to the reason. Forever pretended to be annoyed, but the fact that the other cared so much and in such a playful way kept fishing fond smiles and amused chuckles out of him and that he couldn’t ignore.

His cute secret was secure with him, and so things took a while before it began escalating, all because of a different afternoon…

It started with a jumpscare.

“FOREVER!”

“PUTA MERDA!” (“HOLY SHIT!”) The loud shout quickly descended in a series of nervous giggles. The blond holding his chest and resting in a wall to not fall, muscles trembling with the sudden shot of adrenaline. 

It took a couple of minutes for him to get back his composure and glare at the demon that was still snickering gleefully at him, tail swooping around in delight as he jumped around. 

It took exactly one second. 

In a blink Forever was getting his soul back to his body and then in the other he was throwing himself at him and both were rolling on the floor in a mess of pushes and kicks. “Tu se acha engraçadão, hein? Tu se acha muito engraçadão. Palhaço! Tá palhaço demais, hein, Badboyhalo.” (“You think you’re so funny, yeah? You think you’re so funny. You clown! You’re being such a clown, huh, Badboyhalo.”)

Forever didn’t care that his wrestling was uncoordinated enough so most hits didn’t even land on his friend, different from Bad that actually got more than one or two kicks right before letting himself be lost in a mix of too joyfully complains of “unfair attack” and “dictator” to have any true heat in them. 

Their playful fight was kept for a few pieces of a while before they were too distracted by their own amusement to not let the other go and try to recompose themselves.

“Where! is! it!”

“What?” Forever asked, staring with confused eyes at the black demon who crossed his arms and squinted at him in what Forever could swear was an annoyed composure if it wasn’t the way his tail swayed around and his eyes glinted in glee. Whether it was for being so unclear and successfully confusing the blond or for the original reason he appeared there in the first place it wasn’t clear. 

For a moment his eyes unfocused from the form of the other and watched the wall full of kind, heartwarming messages that he asked for everyone still awake at that night to write so he could make BadboyHalo a surprise. Suddenly all the pieces came together in his mind and formed such a cute picture that Forever couldn’t help but let out a delighted chuckle, lips curling in an amused, teasing smirk. “Ooooh, I see what you’re talking about now, Badboy.”

That chuckles almost became a crackle when the only response he received was a petulant huff and a hand extended in his direction, fingers twitching impatiently. Forever took out his backpack, rummaging through it until he found the compartment where he kept all his flowers, carefully pushing Richa’s favorite one aside so he could pull another one. His fingers clasped around a stem and soon a light purple grazed his sight. “Here. Your daily flower. It’s for until you get better, right?”

“Oh, nice, thank you.” Bad’s voice tinted with a softer tune, carefully gathering the gift and putting it on his own backpack, in a special place, together with the others, before his tune became agitated again, feet tapping on the floor with energy. “But that is NOT what I am talking about.” He got closer and repeatedly began slapping his arm, following the president when he shouted and started running around the enclosed space, jumping in attempts to escape from the sudden attack. “WHERE IS IT! GIVE ME, IT’S MINE!”

“What! What more do you want from me!” When no answer was given besides more chasing and (friendly) hitting, the blonde got the warpstone with an exaggerated sigh. 

“You know, Badboyhalo,” when Forever said his entire name, it wasn’t exactly sing-songing, but it had a little beat painted with amusement and tease, when the demons haven’t been able to successfully annoy him out of his mind, of course. “I really need to go, man, and since you don’t have anything to say to me… tsk, that is so sad, man, I was really feeling quite… generous today”

“No!” The demon tried to grab his shoulder, but the blonde dodged swiftly, still pretending to be looking busy and thinking hard about his next location. “Forever. Do not. You’re not running away. I know what you’re doing!” Forever smiled. 

Being friends with Cellbit, you learned a thing or two. Like how to disappear in the middle of a conversation, but, especially, how to do that in the most annoying way possible. “No, no, no, I’m not running away at all, Bad, I am actually…”

However, that was the thing: Bad was also Cellbit’s friend, and so realized the exact moment that glint filled the president’s brown eyes what was about to happen. His hand flew in another attempt of a grab, missing once again his shoulder when the other, a bit later than last time, dodged, which allowed his reflex to kick in and his hand changed the trajectory and lay on the brazilian’s side, squeezing.

None of them was prepared for the squeal that this action fished.

For a second, a blissful second, everything froze and both stared at each other. 

That is how Forever saw the exact second the demon’s eyes squinted and a playful flame alighted in them.

In a blink his other hand also flew to his waist and began attacking both sides with no mercy. Forever had no chance to even try to stop the barking loud laughter that exploded from him, immediately letting go of the warpstone to clue on Bad’s wrists, trying to push them away by sheer reflex even before his brain could process what was happening. 

“Nonono, stop that! BA-ad!”

Bad couldn’t help but giggle, half adoring and half malefically, at the way the laughter made most of his words get almost intelligible. Besides, Bad thinks he could grow accustomed to having his name being snickered in such an adoring - together with that cute smile and shiny eyes - way more often, really.

His fingers poked and prodded with skill and curiosity, looking for any sensitive spot that could create a new fun sound and concentrating there for a few maddening seconds and plenty of digging before looking for the next one. There was a very nice one juuust above his lowest rib that made the barking laughter become a string of snickers that seemed to grow higher and faster by the seconds. It almost made Bad forget his main job now as his friend and rival the second (actually, even before that, if he was being honest, but honesty was overrated) he discovered that little fun secret about their dear tyrant:

Tease him out of his mind.

“Huh? Stop what, Foreverrr?” “That! You’re ti-” Bad closed his hands in fists and pressed his knuckles on his ribs and rubbed as if his life depended on it, cutting the rest of the sentence with success and filling the room with much more shrieks than before. “What was that?” 

Forever couldn’t answer, his legs were failing and it made him get close to a fall if it wasn’t for the demon adjusting his hold on him and slowly lowering him to the ground, fingers still dancing in each and every rib, scratching and scribbling happily.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear what you’re saying, some muffinhead is laughing their heart out near here. Perhaps they heard a very good joke. Hmmm, what do you think Forever?”

Forever snorted, eyes almost closed with how much he was laughing, tears beginning to collect in the corner of his eyes. A few portuguese words got tangled with his crackling. Bad nodded seriously and slowed his tickle attack, not wanting to go too far.

“Uh hm, no, I get what you’re putting down here. We just need to ignore the laughter and keep up our nice conversation. I think that is a great idea!” He snuggled his hands cozily under Forever’s armpits, lightly wiggling and poking, which resulted in the laughter becoming a new dance of a calmer, but still high with adrenaline and mirth, string of snickers that made the blonde’s shoulders bounce in joy. “What were you saying before?” 

“Stop tickling me!” “What!” Bad gasped in offense. “How can you even accuse me like that! What the fudge, I thought we were friends. But, no, I see. I came aaaaall the way over here, did nothing wrong and you just treat me like that.” He gave a fake sniff.  “You’re hurting my feelings, Forever.” “Mentiroso!” (Liar!) It was quite difficult to see with tears and squinted eyes, especially when Bad’s hoodie always kept his expressions hidden, however, it was even harder to miss how those shiny eyes glinted with mischief and fondness and his smirk went from one ear to another. 

It was quite the sweet sight. Forever had to push his face away before it made him blush vomit. 

(For a second, he could almost swear that the blue that covered the other’s figure dimmed a little for a piece of time.)

“You’re such a liar.”

“Oh why, thank you.”

Bad freed his hands and softly attacked the back of the elf’s ears, still too lost in the lovely sound of his delightful giggles, crackles and snickers to actually let him go. That was the true sound of Forever’s happiness, not that forced, explosive laughter created by those pills. 

Besides, Forever also wasn’t pushing him away.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the only one missing that freeing sound. Maybe Forever also longed for those moments of playful fights between them, of pushing the buttons and teasing and caring and always, always being there, for the better or the worse.

Eventually, the president held his hands and stopped the attack, left over giggles still pouring from his lips like a waterfall. 

Their eyes met.

Forever’s smile got relaxed and small before growing bigger. 

Bad just hummed, tail starting to sway fastly from side to side.

“So, Badboyhalo…”

“Yes?”

Forever’s grip got more firm. 

Bad’s pull got equally stronger. 

They kept smiling.

“Are you… uh.” His voice lost the undertone of playfulness, brown eyes focusing with true curiosity for a moment. “Coceguento? How is it in english? Tickly?”

“Oh, it’s ticklish. For example, you are very ticklish, Forever.”

“Hehehe,” he snorted, and his curiosity was satisfied. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. But what about you, Badboyhalo? Are you… ticklish?” The word came slowly and playfully, tinted with a nice accent.

Bad’s tail opened his backpack, rummaging in search for a very specific item.

“Hmmm… no, actually. I’m not.”

The blonde’s smile got more dangerous. “I don’t know… I don’t believe in you, man.” He found it. 

Bingo.

“Then why don’t you try to find out?” 

Forever pulled him closer and with a swift move the enderpearl that had been in his bag was thrown to the other side of the room, successfully freeing the demon from his hold. Not a second later, though, Forever was jumping on his feet, ready for another chase.

Lots of laughter filled the afternoon, that day.

[~*~]

After that, the avian wasn’t the only one who now randomly poked, prodded and attacked the outgoing brazilian when he wasn’t expecting, anymore. Even though Badboyhalo’s attacks were much more out of the blue, following him in those lonely afternoons when he was distracted in his adventures or too lost in a project to realize the other invaded his base in the middle of a sleepless night. 

But, you see, the difference between Philza and Bad and knowing that Forever is actually pretty ticklish is a very single detail: Bad is a fucking gossiper who loved to set chaos just to see where it would go. 

And, therefore, the main reason why Forever was so screwed right now.

“NÃO! SAI, SAI, SAI. LARGA DE MIM!” (NO! GET AWAY, GET AWAY, GET AWAY. LET ME GO!)

“Que isso, moço, tá fugindo da gente por que?” (What is this, bro? Why are you running away from us?) 

Forever didn’t even have to turn around to see Mike’s giant smug grin. It was almost palpable in his tune. But if anyone could have any doubt about its existence, they just needed to listen to his crackles as both him and Pac chased their friend through the Spawn, leaving a very amused Bad and  Bagi, who shouted a “Boa sorte aí, Forevinho!” (Good luck, Forevinho!) in the wind behind.

“Pois é, a gente só quer um abraço apertado do nosso presida da galera! Cadê o espírito da Favela Six?” (That’s right. We just want a tight hug from our favorite president! Where’s the Favela’s six spirit?) Pac, however, questioned with a genuine tune, almost naive like as he followed the other closely, getting closer and closer by the seconds. For a moment he almost tricked the president into thinking that he was the merciful one, then he remembered about that one tickle fight he, Mike and Tubbo had in the Favela.

Let’s just say it was just a very quick thought, really.

“Favela six é o caralho, ceis querem é me roubar. Eu já disse que não vai ter Armazém da Galera nenhum! Isso é ataque à autoridade, hein!” (Favela Six my ass, you just want to rob me. I already said that there won’t be any Free Storage! This is an attack on authority!)

“A gente só quer o que é nosso por direito, Forevin.” (We just want what is faithfully ours, Forevin.)

The blonde didn’t even have a chance to answer before an arm grabbed his shoulder and pushed, disbalancing him enough so Pac was able to sneak behind him and lock him in a hug, snickering gleefully in his ear.

“Que isso, cara, achava que tu era compromissado! Vou falar pro Fit, hein!” (The hell, man! I thought you were compromised! I’m going to tell Fit!) Forever’s struggles only grew stronger when he saw Mike getting closer, wiggling his hands in the form of claws as he stopped running and instead began to approach slowly, chuckles falling freely from his lips and making shivers run across his spine and giggles to pile in his chest. 

He tried again to free himself from the hug, showing no success. Pac’s hold was firm as a mountain.

“E desde quando que tu tá malhando? Tá todo mamadíssimo aí, né, eu tô sabendo.” (And since when you’re ripped? You’re all ‘mamadíssimo’ now. I see what’s going on.)

Pac let out an amused, with drops of shyness, snort. “Pois é, né, moço. Sabe como é né… Tô indo na academia do Fit bastante esses tempos e tudo mais, aí dá nisso.” (That is right, bro. You know how it is… I’m visiting Fit's Gym a lot these last days and that is what happens.) His tune lost a bit of the light and became more serious, cracked in the corners. “Também, né, a gente nunca sabe quando vai precisar. Eu não quero que quando chegue a hora…” (Also, we don’t know when we’re gonna need it. I don’t want that, when the time comes…)

Forever knew exactly what he was talking about, the same cloudy thoughts that filled everyone’s mind in the island the second he warned that the kids had ran away because a danger greater than everything they’ve seen before was coming, the Federation choosing to announce the train station’s opening in just a few days also did not help their nerves.

He looked at Pac’s shadows under his eyes, suddenly remembering that his friend also went under the Happy Pills Treatment, the horrible withdrawal, the exhaustion of recovery, all to save him. 

His struggles became just a little, a little less strong, heart melting and hurting like it did for every single member of their dysfunctional family since they arrived in that boat.

The scientists deserved to have their own silly fun, even if the fun was destroying their friend and president in a mess full of giggling pieces.

And so Forever let out a loud laughter, wiggling his eyebrows and giving him a knowing smirk. “Tu tá praticando bastante exercício com o Fit é? Aham, hehehe, tô sabendo.” (Doing a lot of exercise with Fit, yeah? Uh hm. Hehehe, I see.)

“FOREVER!” This time the snort that came out from Forever’s mouth was more of a result of Pac's unfairly squeezing his belly non stop instead of a reaction to the affronted shout, the one with blue hoodie not throwing any other remark or getting lost in any dark thought. The blonde counted that as a win for him. 

“Tá bem engraçadinho, mas você não vai conseguir me distrair. Sabe, o Badboy me falou algo muito interessante sobre você que ele descobriu mês passado…” (You think you’re being funny, huh. But you’re not going to distract me. You know, Badboy told me something very interesting about you that he discovered last month…)

Mike finally got right in front of him and Forever immediately started kicking in his direction to keep those offending fingers away from his torso at the same time that he continued to attempt to pry Pac’s hands - that somehow seemed to sense the exact spots he was the most sensitive and concentrate all their pinches, scribbles and tickly efforts on them over and over again - until the attack forced Forever to press his lips on his shoulder to contain the blossoming laughter and embarrassing squeals that tried to escape from his mouth.

His efforts to not let any sound out, however, were demolished when, in his distraction, Mike grabbed his ankle and grinned like a shark that finally got his prey. 

“Eu preferia uma mãozinha, mas já que é isso que você tá oferecendo…” (I’d rather you gave me a hand, but since you’re offering…) And, locking the leg in a headlock,  his fingers began dancing across his sole, walking around his arch and giving some special attention to the extremely ticklish space right under his toes, skillfully dodging any kicks that this move resulted in and breaking Forever’s barriers instantly.

Forever’s booming laughter filled the air in a free dance of joy, mirth and a warmth that filled his heart when he remembered just how long had it been since all of them could just get together and goof around a bit, no kidnappings or imminent dangers in their minds for a blissful pieces of time.

[~*~]

“Soooo, guys, I think I’m heading out, now.” Forever kept jumping on the trampoline, restless energy running on his veins after talking to Phil about his journey in the Nether. The virus hadn’t spread a lot those last days, but the conversation was hard, not only because of how, primarily, exhausting it was to go through all of it, but because for some reason something in him made he almost feel compelled to shut his mouth and not say a single word about the infection to anyone else.

They played and gave each other a few remarks and pokes of fun when Philza asked for Forever to take off his shirt in the bunker, careful touches analyzing the skin around the ébano substance glued on his back and in the nape of his head. Even so, it made the blonde want to hide away the result of his journey. Forever never have been ashamed of his body. He used to walk around shirtless, on the good old, first days on the island, afterall. But if he was being honest... he was afraid about that infection, and Philza didn’t seem very relieved about it either.

It was a literal mark about how he had failed in absolutely every single sense and chance he had out there. In finding any clue, in getting their kids back, in saving Walter Bob or even himself. In the end, he was not able to do any of this.

That is the President of Quesadilla Island, everyone.

(“We’re going to talk with Cucurucho and demand answers about what the fuck is this.”

Forever gave a humorless chuckle, happy that the children were outside playing so they weren’t here to witness how defeated he sounded for a second before adjusting himself to a playful grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, Philza, he is very good at this. Giving us answers, right?”

“We have to try. If someone knows about this it is the Federation.”  Philza brushed the other’s sarcastic ‘há!’ easily and moved until he was right in front of the brazilian, capturing his eyes in a firm stare. “And if they don’t have anything, we’re going to find our own answers.”

Forever nodded, not really believing.

“You worry too much, my friend.”

“Exactly. I already told you but I will repeat it until it gets through your thick skull: I always will worry and I’m not leaving you side, mate.”

For a moment words escaped from his tongue, a mix of feelings of ‘safe’, ‘happy’ and ‘embarrassment’ filled his chest before he got a hold of his senses. 

“Alright, alright, alright.” 

This time, when he smiled there was a light back into his brown, tired eyes. 

“You know, Philza, you really need to get over me, man. The line continues, I’m already moving forward and you still try to romance me, it’s- what is the word? Oh, embarrassing, hehehe”

The avian took advantage of his position to hit the other upside his head, a surprise snort being fished from his lips. 

“Oho, shut the fuck up. You’re the one who is still on this!”)

And yeah, maybe he was just making a strategic retreat after showing vulnerability, but who could blame him, really? No one, that’s who. He would be out before they did try.

“Come on, Richas, vamo de Megabase.” (Let’s go to Megabase) He called, getting out of the trampoline when the boy kept painting and paid him no mind. Tallulah, however, stopped writing on a book to go to him, Chayanne turned to look from his place next to the grill nearby, already testing a new recipe.

The girl placed a sign and stared at him with attentive eyes, lips firmly pressed in a shadow of disappointment. ‘You already going?’

(God. He really missed the sound of little steps and signs being placed. They missed it all so much.)

Forever internally winced. He really didn’t spend a lot of time with Chay and Talullah since they’re back, letting them enjoy more time with Phil and just making quick check ins once in a while. He also took the last days to spend as much time as he could with Richas, afterall.

“Yeah... sorry, Talullah, but me and Richas still have to finish our project, right Richas?”

Still no answer from the younger one, too concentrated in every stroke to pay the conversation any mind.

Forever chuckled, sensing a chance for some mischief. Cleaning his throat, he lifted his voice from the usual soft tune he always used with Tallulah to a more taunting tune, making it louder so Richas could listen perfectly well.

“Ohhh, but maybe you can go and help me to make it, right, Talullah? You’re such a nice, helpful egg who listens to your parents when they call you, just like Chayanne. Richarlyson could take some examples from his older siblings more, tsk.” The president had to hold the snickers when he saw the red cow head stop and slowly, threateningly slowly, turn around to face him, Richas letting go of the brush to squint their eyes at him. Talullah and Chayanne rolled their eyes, amused, already used to the playful banters between father and son. “But ahh, he just never listens. Oooh, I have an idea! While Tallulah helps me with the decoration, Chayanne, you can go too and make your delicious barbecue there to keep us- AH!”

The surprised shout was a direct result for when the younger launched himself at his father in protest and began roughhousing immediately, both descending in growls and portuguese for a few couple of minutes before Forever laid a satisfied Richas on the floor, who immediately placed a sign.

‘Pai, stop. I’m making Pepito’s birthday present, let me finish it >:0 we can go Mebase later :D’

“Ok, ok, I get it, I get it. You like Pepito more than your own father. Yeah, yeah, no Richas, no, I get it.” He began fake sniffing and making crying noises, leading to a Richas kicking his leg in a clear message of ‘stop the dramatics’ before going back to the canvas. “Ok, ok, warn me when you finish your drawing then, we can stay a little more.”

The three kids danced in excitement.

(...)

He is not sure how exactly he had ended up in this position.

Talullah and Chayanne were secure and cozy his arms, half because of a poke of fun at Philza that started with a joke ten minutes ago and they just kept it running and half as a parting hug that was stiffly (but still very carefully) answered by Chayanne and warmly by Tallulah. Forever enthusiastically squeezed and hugged them even tighter. A bit jealous of how Philza could shield them both with his wings during their own hugs and how he could only wish that his arms would be strong enough to defend them when the time comes.

“OK, now it’s for real. Richas, let’s go!”

But, when Richarlyson appeared in front of him, paints and canva already put inside his backpack, his smile had a different tint in it and, between his curls, Forever could recognize the flame that always appeared when that kid’s inner demon - not his terrifying artistic alter ego, though, the general demon that lives inside every rascal kid - woke in search of chaos.

He immediately became wary.

‘Chay, Talluh, can I tell you a secret about Pai Forever? 0-0’

Both siblings immediately nodded.

“Ohh, gossip. I like, I like.” Philza snorted at the affronted look in Forever’s face. 

“Vai contar nada, vai contar nada, seu muleque atentado! Nem sei o que tu vai falar, mas não vai falar não. Que que é isso, Richarlyson, tá se virando contra o seu próprio pai?” (You’re telling nothing, you’re telling nothing, you absolute brat. I don’t even know what you’re about to say but you’re telling nothing. What is it, Richarlyson, are you turning against your own dad?)

During the entire scold Richas kept jumping around in circles with the utmost, simple delight, wiggling his body and tail in sync in front of Forever, as if daring him to let go of the other two eggs to go and actually catch him, like a cat looking deep into your eyes before throwing the cup right off your table.

He put a sign on the ground.

‘Pai Forever is absurdly, awfully, very, very, ticklish. And it’s so funny because he always agrees to give us anything when we tickle attack him at home.'

“WHAAAAAT! RICHARLYSON, TU VAI FICAR DE CASTIGO, SEU OVO SAFADO. VAI PASSAR O RESTO DA VIDA NAQUELE CASTELO ASSOMBRADO LÁ DO TEU PAI CELLBIT. VOU CHAMAR O ELMARIANA PRA PUXAR TEU PÉ DE NOITE” (RICHARLYSON, YOU’RE GOING TO GET GROUNDED, YOU RASCAL. YOU’RE GOING TO SPEND THE REST OF YOUR LIFE IN YOUR DAD CELLBIT’S HAUNTED CASTLE. I’M GOING TO CALL ELMARIANA TO PULL YOUR FEET IN THE NIGHT.)

His kid, his beautiful, beautiful baby boy that he would explode the entire island for and go through the literal hell all over again if it meant that he would be finally safe, only looked at him in a confused expression - as if the lil shit just couldn’t tell why his dear pai was running away from him as he tried to get closer - and began following his steps as Forever tried to put distance between them, holding Chayanne and Talullah the farthest away from his torso that he could while the two squirmed trying to escape and attack.

In the end his back ended up hitting the tree and, without being able to get his items to flee, he had nowhere to go.

“Wait, wait, wait, don-” A chortle escaped the very exact moment Richas began drilling on his sides, making Forever want to bounce up and down with the sudden tickly energy that shot through his entire body, leaving his mouth with a big, dazzling smile and his arms to fall in an attempt to protect himself from the tickling, which inevitably brought the other children close and sealed his fate.

Tallulah was bold, briefly looking at his face for any sign of discomfort before carefully shoving her claws under his armpit, scratching the ticklish skin with ease, but for the loud shriek that this resulted one could think that she just unlocked a full, unmerciful on a tickle attack.

Chayanne took a bit longer, giving his surroundings and sky a wary look, as if a monster would appear the very second he lowered his guard, only to end up finding his father’s gaze, who was watching at them with a soft expression and nodding encouragingly. The little (way to young) warrior relaxed and also took the job of scribbling, encircling and digging (just the tiniest bit, he had to be mindful about his claws after all) the other armpit, fish just more squeals and plenty of gleeful laughter with that.

Forever felt like he was about to jump out of his skin, his body going crazy at the ‘it tickles, it tickles so so much!’ feeling while his brain was still caught in the need to not move around too much to not hurt any kid with his squirms. All of which ended up with the blonde doing a weird little dance around the spot that brought plenty of giggles and amused snickers from the young ones.

Now, the similarity between Philza and Bad is that, while he wasn’t exactly the one who created it, Philza was more than inclined and wouldn’t necessarily refuse to add to a chaotic situation it if the chance came, if he felt like it.

That is why he stepped close, winking at them. “I think it’s better if you just agree to their terms, Forever.”

“I-I” the adult tried to bite back another giggling fit, but their tickles were so goddamn light and maddening- “I don’t even snk know what thehey want!”

“Just agree to give them anything then.”

Forever shook his head. He knew his son enough to understand how much of a pain in the ass that decision could become.

“Needing more convincing? Well, kids, you saw it.”

“Filho da puta-” (Son of a bitch-), and Forever threw his head backwards in more laughter, more squeaks, more half squirms.

Now, Philza may not know Portuguese. However, six months sharing an island with 7 brazilians and plenty of reasons to swear taught him well what some words meant. He snorted, half amused and half affronted.  

“Do NOT swear in front of the children.” Then, a wicked grin was formed in his expression.“You know what? I think the eggs need a little help.”

Forever’s eyes got wide when he saw the avian stepping close, cracking his fingers, making an electric shiver run across his spine and spread through his nerves, making his fingertips tingle with adrenaline and anticipation. 

His legs tensed in preparation for the chase, unfortunately, his son knew him too well.

In a blink Richarlyson threw himself on his legs and hugged them, successfully stopping him from even trying to escape. And those extra pieces of time were all that Philza needed. As fast as he was to defend and attack, he positioned himself right in front of the president, firmly pressing his shoulder to the tree and not really, truly, preventing him from escaping, but successfully securing him in place, in the same time.

“Ok, kids, what I know for a fact is that his neck is a very bad spot…” He demonstrated it by lightly tracing and wiggling his nails on said place, all of the dragon hybrids watching attentively as the action made Forever lose himself in a sea of snickers and yelps, a stronger reaction only coming out when two more tiny hands got mixed in the fun when Chayanne and Talullah tried mirroring their dad.

“But a spot that could make him cave…” Philza hummed before turning to the young one with a red mushroom cow head. “What do you think, Richarlyson? His hips or the back of his ribs?”

Richas looked at his dad. 

At how dark have been the circles under his eyes since he came back, at how he kept chatting with the islanders but never truly talking to them, how he always kept running off to another project or meeting, always saying that Richas was his son and his best friend and the only one he could trust when they got caught up in the middle of the night building and decorating his base.

He saw how, until now, he hadn’t run away. Through the teases, the attacks and tickles, he stayed.

And so, he smirked. 

Placed a sign.

‘Both?’

“Geez, I’m never getting into a tickle fight with you, mate.” Even so, the avian reflected his smirk right back at him and both turned to look at Chayanne and Talullah, who nodded in understanding and placed their claws on the back of his ribs. 

“Nononono! Wait!” Philza placed his free hand on his hips, thumb pressing the spot right above the bone, the palm resting on the back of his spine. Forever’s speech became more high pitched and much faster, with nervous, delirious chuckles already spilling and spinning in the air. “None of you said what you wanted from me! That is not justo, uh, just, huh, fair! Calma aí, come on, wait, wait, wait!”

They did not, in fact, wait.

For a second, once again, everything else in the world disappeared. There were no code monsters, no Federation, no Purgatory or anything else but the warm, electric feeling of fingers and claws prodding, pinching and scratching that took over his entire senses, making his laughter ring free in a song composed of yelps, shrieks, squeals and snickers that filled the air. There was nothing else but the fun, the joy and the warmth of a careful touch and silly taunting smiles that his heart melt with care over and over again.

In the end, after more laughter, plenty of teasing and lots of snorts, they finally agreed to ask him to visit them again after a couple of days for a nice picnic. A request which, in between leftover chuckles, plenty complains and a few gleeful tears, Forever agreed, a plan of vengeance already forming in his brain.

[cemeterym]

i'm begging my uni to stop making every fucking student social activity something where you have to walk around a bunch if you are a slow walker who cannot help it they literally want you dead

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

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