"Down With The Blank Space" (a Disturbed/Taylor Swift Mashup) Would Be The Perfect Soundtrack To A Fic

"Down With the Blank Space" (a Disturbed/Taylor Swift mashup) would be the perfect soundtrack to a fic where Pinky is slowly becoming Dark Pinky after having met up with Snowball and the two of them start a very toxic romantic relationship.

I just go the Sims 4 route and make up a supernatural plant (similar to plasma fruit) for my "vegetarian" vampires to eat.

I know that’s kind of the go-to thing to show that a vampire character is “one of the good ones” or whatever but it actually seems a little bit more fucked up for a vampire to steal blood from a blood bank than for a vampire to attack people for blood, at least as long as it’s not the kind of vampire where a bite is instantly lethal like it never stops bleeding. 

People can recover from losing some blood but blood bank blood is constantly in short supply and is reserved for people who imminently need blood transfusion of a specific blood type or else they die.

speedrunning gay mice insanity any%

I have half a mind to write a silly ass songfic to White Town's "Your Woman" where Pinky and Brain have a rough patch and break up for a while, then Pinky falls into Snowball's clutches and Brain comes to rescue him to Blood on the Dance Floor's "Bewitched," then Pinky and Brain passionately make up to White Town's "Undressed."

Some ppl are like "I'm a kinky sex-positive pervert freak!!!" and then make fun of virgins and asexuals..... sure, reclaim freakiness but keep working on that because teasing ppl for their sex lives (or lack thereof) is, unfortunately, very normie mainstream vanilla behaviour. the right to sexual determination includes NOT having sex. 101 shit. Like this isnt subversive dude, it's using the edge of an ideology for bullying

I'm actually going through something like this right now.

As of this post, there is only one Pinky and the Brain fic that focuses on Brinky (Pinky x Brain) and mpreg (that I know of; if you know any others, please, help a [Warner] brother out). As it so happens, I'm working on writing a Pinky and the Brain fic that features--guess what?--Brinky and mpreg. In both fics, Pinky is the one getting mpregged.

I'm still going to continue writing my fic. Because there are key differences between the two that ensure that mine wouldn't be considered superfluous (the explanation behind the mpreg, the tone and framing of it, the events surrounding the pregnancy, even the identity of the father). Also, it's just fun to write and post fic (especially cursed fic).

Even if those differences weren't there, I'd still write it. My writing style is different enough that I think I could bring something unique to the subject.

I have a question for the fanfic writers among you: How do you treat your work in progress when a very similar story is put out there? Do you go on writing - in the spirit that everything is unique in its own way - or do you abandon the piece - in the spirit of preventing 'superfluous' contributions?

Let's add a further wrench into the process by saying the recently published work by another author, so similar to your own, seems so much better written than your own (granted we are always our own worst critics). Where do you go with that?

Maybe this is a question for readers, too. Do you mind reading similar works/story lines?

Invasion: Circe's Bedside Manner Could Use Some Work (Part three of three)

The sound of the Tombstone of Life and Death being abused booms in the distance. Teen!me seems to have thought this an adequate end for the fic. Adult!me knows otherwise.

Part one is here. Part two is here.

Content Warning: Rape/noncon mention and aftermath; character assassination of Buzz Grunt; mpreg and hermaphroditism being normal for Sims; depiction of the Beaker household as not being a den of unethical experimentation; Loki and Nervous are apparently adoptive brothers in this; Loki has feelings about his parentage; pretty sure Circe convincing Loki to keep the rape baby was a bad idea; attempt at depicting trauma responses; giving Vidcund a past anorexia issue sure was a choice that I made

-O-o-O-o-O-

Pascal absentmindedly stirred the chili for lunch. It was looking a little black on the edges, but that was the farthest thing from his mind at the moment.

“Nervous seemed rather irritable today. If there’s something on his mind, why doesn’t he just tell me what it is?”

Pascal was brought back to reality by the smell of burning food. He looked down. “Just perfect.”

His brothers didn’t seem to mind. Lazlo still shoveled the charred food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in a week.

“Slow down; you’ll choke,” Pascal deadpanned. Manners were lost on that boy.

Vidcund only picked at his food, but not because it was burnt. He’d been awfully quiet since the night before and he hadn’t said a word since lunch was served.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Lazlo asked.

“Not particularly,” Vidcund responded, scraping his spoon across the blackened mess.

“Vidcund, you skipped breakfast. You need to eat sometime,” Pascal prodded, not sure if the lack of cooking skill or something else killed Vidcund’s appetite.

Vidcund absently scooped up a spoonful of chili and ate it. Pascal stared, incredulous, while Lazlo looked amused.

“It doesn’t bother you that it’s burnt?”

“Hadn’t noticed.”

Eventually Vidcund did notice it was burnt and both he and Pascal had to excuse themselves, leaving Lazlo to dig into the leftovers.

Pascal pulled Vidcund into their plant room. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” Vidcund’s voice sounded miles away.

“You’re spacey, quiet, and lacking an appetite,” Pascal noted. “You’re not starving yourself again, are you?”

“No.” This time, Vidcund’s voice was in Pascal’s face and firm. He didn’t like to be reminded of his short bout of anorexia.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Vidcund looked at the floor.

“Nervous won’t tell me what’s bothering him, you won’t tell me why you’re upset. How am I supposed to do my oldest brother job of fixing everything if I don’t know what’s going on?”

“I don’t think this can be fixed, Pascal,” Vidcund answered quietly.

“But I can at least try to make you feel better.”

Vidcund sighed. “Last night, I was looking at the stars. I wasn’t trying to look at what other people were doing, really, but I made a mistake in re-angling the telescope and I could see into this alleyway, and….” He trailed off.

“What did you see?” Pascal prompted.

Vidcund wouldn’t look at Pascal as he continued. “Buzz was standing over Loki, and….and Loki was tied up with his pants pulled down. Buzz was over him with his pants down….”

Pascal was speechless. “This must’ve been what Nervous was so upset about. I’m not too fond of Loki, but he sure as hell didn’t deserve that.”

“I want to tell the police, but what if Loki doesn’t want anyone to know? Even if I did tell them, Buzz would get basically a slap on the wrist and that’s it. Plus, he’d come after Loki and Nervous, and maybe even us.”

Pascal had barely regained his speech. So all he said was, “Why don’t we talk more later?”

Vidcund had no choice but to agree.

-O-o-O-

Circe was cooking dinner. Like, Pascal, she was preoccupied, but not so much that she burned the food. Usually Loki would cook, but he deserved a break, especially after what just happened.

Loki scrubbed away at the shower tiles. He’d been cleaning all evening and he barely noticed when it began to get dark. He didn’t care. Just as long as it helped him forget the encounter with Buzz, he didn’t care how long he took. The rhythmic squeak of the sponge on the tiles was the only thing keeping Loki from collapsing into tears.

He was always too busy to clean. In actuality, Loki loved cleaning. But now it seemed as thought cleaning was relegated to the “only for comfort” category. Considering how behind he was on it, he’d have a lot of comfort.

“As long as I keep busy,” Loki thought, “I’ll be fine. It worked for my father’s death; it’ll work now.”

He was so lost in thought, he barely heard Circe calling him for dinner.

Circe was setting the bowls of chili on the table when Loki came in. At first, she was glad that he seemed less distressed, but he didn’t seem much better than he’d been that afternoon. When she really thought about it, he seemed worse. It didn’t help that he was even paler than usual.

Loki wandered into the kitchen, his mind on autopilot. He wasn’t that hungry—actually, he’d felt a slight twinge of nausea earlier. But he had to eat, and Circe had actually cooked. She could’ve just ordered out.

Loki managed to whisper a thanks to Circe before they both sat down to eat. Nervous wouldn’t be joining them; he’d gotten dinner earlier then retired to his room for the night.

The meal began, but they hardly ate. Circe nibbled on hers, realizing she’d forgotten the chili powder. Though, judging by Loki’s interactions with his food, that was probably a good thing.

Loki was only picking at his food. Circe figured he must not be very hungry, what with all that had gone on. But then, the little color left in Loki’s face drained away and he ran from the room, covering his mouth.

She found him in the downstairs bathroom, wiping his mouth with toilet paper.

“Was it that bad?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Loki leaned his head on the toilet. “It was fine, Circe. I’m just not feeling very well right now. It’s probably just from breathing in those cleaning chemicals for so long.”

Circe sighed. This was really not Loki’s week, was it. “Okay, but you have to eat something. I think there are crackers in the pantry—”

Loki scrambled to lift the lid and threw up into the toilet again.

“Or I could just not talk about food anymore.”

Loki wiped his mouth. “I’m not really very hungry, anyway. I probably just need to get some sleep. I’m sure I’ll be better in the morning.”

-O-o-O-

That night, the Beakers slept a lot better, having figured out how to keep Loki from screaming himself awake. Circe and Loki lay cuddled up to each other, Circe, relieved that Loki wasn’t afraid of her touching him, and Loki, hoping that this was a sign of him beginning to heal.

Morning found Circe alone in bed, the covers on Loki’s side tossed haphazardly to the side.

A quiet sniffle from the master bathroom informed her of his whereabouts. She found Loki poised over the toilet, throwing up. She knelt next to him while he wiped his mouth.

“So I was wrong last night,” Loki said quietly, flushing the toilet.

“Maybe you should stay away from those cleaning products today,” Circe suggested. “Although, I’ve never seen anyone get sick from being around those particular cleaning products for too long unless there were huffing them.”

“They don’t even have ammonia in them.”

Circe thought for a minute. “Come to think of it,” she said quietly, “ I don’t think it’s the cleaning products that are making you sick.”

Loki remained silent. His eyes slowly met Circe’s, then both pairs wandered to the medicine cabinet where the box of pregnancy tests were kept.

“You don’t think…” Loki trailed off.

“I’ve seen the symptoms before. It wouldn’t hurt to try it.”

So Circe averted her gaze while Loki peed on the plastic stick. Then they waited for the results. One line meant negative, two lines meant positive.

There was much twiddling of thumbs and nervous shifting as the two waited the obligatory two minutes for the results. Finally, at the end of the two minutes, they looked at the result window and saw two blue lines.

Circe ran her hand through her red hair. “Okay….Let’s not panic. This isn’t the end of the world.”

Loki hid his face in his arms. “I cannot believe I’m pregnant by him.”

“Maybe it’s a false positive,” Circe said. “These tests aren’t always accurate, unless they’re those new Tombstone brand ones. Let me see the box.”

Circe picked up the box from where it had been casually tossed under the toilet and examined it. Sure enough, the cartoon of the Grim Reaper stating “Dead right!” was printed on the side, along with the tombstone logo. She let out a breath. “So it is true. Well….You still have a few options.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You haven’t even heard—”

“I don’t care. I don’t want it.”

“You’ve always said you wanted a child.”

“Not like this! This wouldn’t be our child; it’d be Buzz’s and my child.” Loki got up to go to the bedroom.

“We could raise it as ours.”

Loki turned to face Circe. “What do you think the kid’s going to think when he realizes he looks nothing like you? He’s going to ask us who his real parents are and we’re going to have to tell him that the only reason he’s here is because I got raped!”

Circe was silent. Loki didn’t yell like this often.

“Do you know what it’s like to know that you were an accident?” Loki continued much more quietly.

“Loki, your mother was drunk when she told you that. It means nothing.”

“She may have been drunk, but it’s true. I did the math. She and my father married just a mere five months before I was born. No one in their right mind plans to get that far along before they get married. My father was the one who got pregnant and he couldn’t abort me, so he and my mother had to get married.” Loki sniffed. “I would never want my child to have any reason to even suspect such a thing.”

Circe slowly approached Loki. “But there’s something you haven’t factored in.”

“What?”

“We would never act as though we didn’t want the child. Your father kept it together, but your mother…From what you’ve told me, she wasn’t that nice to you. Add the fact that she drank a lot and you’ve got a formula for trouble. But you’re not your mother, Loki.” Circe put her arms around Loki. “I’m not saying you should keep the baby if you don’t want it. I’m saying that if you do, you won’t mess it up.”

Loki thought for a while, staring at the ground. “In any other situation, I would abort it….But we’ve wanted a child since the second year of our marriage. And it’s not just Buzz’s child; it’s mine, too. And it will be yours as well.”

-O-o-O-o-O-

Moral of the story: If your husband (or wife) gets raped by the neighborhood alien-hating bully, just let him have the abortion.