#i smoked anyway but it felt like way more of a choice lol

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Second Choices

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: I hope this makes sense lol. I opened my planning doc for the next part of Triad, read the three sentences I had written there, and then closed it and went back to a random drabble in my notes app that exploded into this. So… enjoy, I guess? There will be three parts of this total, so click here to be added to the taglist to be notified when those go live!

Warnings: Angst, drinking, drug use (slightly forced, if you squint?), a little hint of smut at the end but it doesn't progress very far

“Y/N is a bitch,” Braelie whined, voice echoing out from the restroom’s open door. Mor sighed, snapped the cap back onto her signature red lip gloss, then turned towards Cassian’s female-du-jour. She was pretty, in an artificial sort of way. Her foundation, a shade too light, was caked on with a thick layer of matte powder that swallowed the light when it hit her face, leaving her skin dull and sullen. The dark eye makeup and too-bright lipstick made her look like a doll, and not the kind for children.

“Listen, Brae,” Mor hoped that using a nickname would soften the major blow she was about to land. She reached out and laid a light, comforting hand onto one bony shoulder. “Y/N and Cassian have been friends for a long time. I won’t lie to you, sometimes the lines get blurred when they’re both single. She’s probably having some complicated feelings, since you’re so pretty,” Mor rushed to add that last part when Braelin’s lower lip wobbled. Then she prayed to the Mother for your forgiveness and said, lowering her voice to a whisper, “she’s probably just jealous.”

That put a spark back into Braelie’s eyes, and Mor cringed. She added Cassian to her list of prayers as Braelie flounced away in search of him.

Cassian hovered with his hand on the doorknob, ready to duck out the side door to sneak in a quick smoke break while Braelie freshened up with Mor. 

Braelie was hot, sure, but Cauldron she was dumb. If Cassian had to hear the words, “wait, really?” one more time, he might not make it long enough to get her into his bed tonight. Just a few puffs of mirthroot would dull the edges of his brain enough to find her cluelessness endearing. 

She wasn’t the most exciting company, but she was reliable, and he needed that. He’d broken things off with Skyla three weeks earlier and knew that he was dangerously close to doing the one thing he wore he’d stop doing, so he went out one night, alone, and found Braelie. 

After overhearing Mor’s words, he felt guilt roiling deep in his gut. So he smoked half a joint and headed back inside. He danced with her and thought of you. Walked her home and thought of you. She invited him in for a drink and pressed her too-pink lips against his. 

He thought of you. 

Afterward, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and waited until her breathing slowed before sneaking out through the window. He shoved off of the sill and let his wings fully expand, catching the wind and sending him soaring into the early morning sky. 

—

You hadn’t meant for Cassian’s latest fling to overhear you calling her a “Cauldron-damned floozy,” but it had happened anyway. 

“She’s soooooo annoyingggg,” you slurred, taking another swig from the wine glass in your hand. You let your head fall back until it landed on Azriel’s shoulder. He chuckled and you felt his shadows nipping at your cheeks, lightly scolding you for being bitchy. They tickled like tiny, ice-cold kisses, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. “Seriously, Az. I dunno what Cas sees in her. She’s just another Cauldron-damned floozy, good for keeping his bed warm and not much else.” 

Mor had managed to redirect Braelie towards the restrooms after that, leaving you alone in the booth with Az, completely oblivious. 

Azriel’s shadows had alerted him to her presence, and a smirk graced his lips. He sensed some major drama brewing and relished in his position at the sidelines. 

“Why, Y/N, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you sound jealous,” he drawled. You let your head loll to the side so you could glare at him, which coaxed a bark of laughter from his lips. 

—

The first coherent thought you had the next morning was water. I need water. You dragged yourself out of bed and trudged into the bathroom, gulping mouthful after mouthful straight from the faucet. 

But water could only do so much for a hangover, so you threw a robe over your pajamas and tiptoed down the Townhouse stairs. It was nearing noon but, based on the disheveled state everyone had returned in last night, you didn’t want to risk waking anyone and incurring their hungover wrath. 

Outside the kitchen, you heard low, muffled voices and paused to listen before entering. Mother forbid you end up interrupting Cassian and Braelie’s post-coital feast. Cauldron, even her name was annoying. 

“I just don’t understand why Y/N would say something like that,” you heard Cassian say, wincing as memories from last night flooded your brain. 

“Look, Y/N’s your best friend, I’m sure she’s just feeling put out now that you’re spending so much time with Braelie,” Az said, careful to keep his tone neutral. 

“Well she doesn’t have to be such a bitch about it.” 

You turned away and snuck back up the stairs to change into real clothes, deciding that breakfast at your favorite cafe was in order. Preferably paired with a mimosa or five. 

— 

Az sighed and took a sip of tea to buy himself some time to think. He’d stayed up with Mor until sunrise, talking about their clueless friends. 

While your comments about Cassian’s love life had been funny the first few times, after more than three decades, it was getting old. They recognized a pattern repeating itself ad nauseam; Cassian gets a new girlfriend, you distance yourself from him and start grumbling about the girls’ flaws, then when Cas eventually dumped her you’d be back to being best friends like no time had passed at all. And if you both happen to be single, well, sometimes after smoking too much mirthroot you’d end up all over each other. In a friendly way, of course. 

This time, though, you’d been much more open about your hatred for Braelie despite the fact that she was one of the more tolerable ‘floozies’  they’d had to deal with over the years. She was dumb but harmless, and soon enough Cassian would tire of her, resetting the cycle once again. 

So they’d decided to divide and conquer; Mor was going to try and get it through your thick skull that you’re in love with Cas, while Az was tasked with showing the General what was right in front of him. 

Easier said than done. So he decided to go for the jugular. 

“Well, it’s not like you have the best track record with females. Maybe Y/N’s gotten tired of playing nice when you’ve got someone new on your arm every other week.”

“Last I checked that wasn’t a crime.” 

Az held his hands up, raising one eyebrow at Cas. 

“Don’t shoot the messenger. If it’s really bothering you, why don’t you talk to her? I’m sure if you asked her to lay off Braelie she would.”

Cas ducked his head to hide the heat rushing to his face and mumbled something incoherent into his chest. 

“Sorry, brother, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of my shadows laughing at your blush.”

“I broke up with her this morning,” Cas growled, tightening his grip on the mug in his fist. 

Azriel cackled, laughter only growing louder when Cas glared at him. 

“It’s not funny,” Cas insisted, launching his teaspoon over the table. Az’s shadows caught it before it could make contact, turning Cas’s glare into a downright glower.  

“Alright, alright, it’s not funny. You’re just predictable, that’s all.” 

After stewing in silence for a few minutes, Cas felt his self control crumbling. Words bubbled up from his chest, through his throat, and then he was rambling. 

“I overheard Mor telling Braelie that Y/N was jealous of her,” he pushed his chair back and started pacing back and forth across the kitchen. “And at first I thought, no way, that’s crazy, if Y/N was jealous I would know. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. She always gets weird whenever I’m dating someone, right?”

“Maybe you should talk to her about it,” Az suggested, leaning back in his seat. Just a friend offering a casual, off-the-cuff solution to a problem he knows nothing about. 

“Yeah, maybe…”

—

Mor tracked you down later that afternoon, sprawled out on a blanket next to the Sidra and halfway through a bottle of vintage red imported from the Summer Court. 

“Heyyy,” you greeted her, pushing yourself up into a sitting position and holding the bottle out towards your friend. “Come to join the pity party?” 

Mor eyed you, curiosity and amusement sparking behind her honey brown eyes, and she accepted your offering. 

“And why are we having a pity party?” she asked, plopping down next to you and taking a long pull from the bottle. 

“Cause I fuck everything up, duh.” You flopped back down, this time onto your stomach. “Cassian hates me, but whatever. I’m sure he and Braelie are going to be very happy together.”

Mor had to force her eyes not to roll at your drunken dramatics. 

“I’m gonna find a boyfriend, that way when they break up Cas can’t come crawling back to me with his dick in his hand. See how he likes it.” You made grabby hands for the bottle but Mor shook her head, keeping it held just out of your reach. 

“Or you could try telling him how you feel?” She suggested, casually, as she took another sip. 

You scoffed, hiccuping giggles following as you struggled to keep your composure as mixed emotions ebbed and flowed through your body. 

“Tell him how I feel? Should I tell him it makes my skin itch whenever he dances with another girl? Tell him that I haven’t been able to finish with anyone else since the first time he fucked me? Or maybe I should tell him that he’s my mate, good idea, Mor. Maybe that will make him fall in love with me!” 

Mor let her eyes roll this time, patting you on the back. But when you flipped onto your back, she saw the pain and longing etched into the lines on your face and stared deep into your eyes, waiting for you to laugh and say it was just a joke. 

Unease settled in her stomach. 

“Wait, you’re serious, aren’t you?” she asked. 

“He’s my Cauldron-damned mate, and he doesn’t even know it. He’s too busy burying himself in the hordes of females fawning all over him to notice how much it hurts.” 

“Y/N…how long have you known?” 

“Four years,” you whispered, throwing an arm over your eyes to hide your tears from your oldest friend.

“Oh, babe,” she sighed, tugging you up into her arms. The dam behind your eyes broke and sobs wracked your body while the gears in Mor’s brain started turning. 

When you finally settled in her lap, tears dried up, she hauled you to your feet. “C’mon, let’s get you home.” 

All you managed to mutter was, “Not the Townhouse,” before she winnowed you away.  

—

Cassian dodged Azriel’s attempts at cheering him up in favor of sulking at the kitchen table all day, waiting for you to wake up. 

When it was nearing dinner time, he sighed and put together a tray of tea and pastries to bring up to you as a peace offering. But after knocking politely on your door for five minutes straight, worry started worming its way into his stomach and he threw open the door to reveal your bed, perfectly made and empty. 

“Fuck,” he growled, throwing the tray down the hallway where it crashed against the wall, broken bits of pottery clattering to the ground. He’d wasted all day waiting for you when you were out doing Mother knows what with Mother knows who. 

Screw apologies, he was on a warpath now.  

He trekked through the busy streets of Velaris looking for any sign of you, starting at Amren’s apartment and making his way through your favorite shops and restaurants with no success. Just when he was about to give up, assuming you were holed up with a male somewhere, he saw Mor ducking into one of the small cafes near the Sidra. 

“Mor!” he shouted, jogging to catch the door before it closed behind her. She turned around, and a look of shock flashed across her face before it smoothed into cool indifference. 

“Cassian,” she said, nodding at him before turning to the hostess stand. “I’m here to pick up a takeout order for Morrigan.” 

The hostess nodded and disappeared into the kitchen to grab the food. Cas reached out and grabbed Mor’s wrist, tugging her around to face him.  

“Where is she?” he asked, barely able to contain the rage flowing through his veins. 

“Not now, Cas,” Mor sighed, wrenching her arm from his grasp. “Trust me. Just give her some space.” 

“I can’t,” he growled, siphons glowing as if they were attempting to warn her that his magic was sizzling just beneath the surface. It felt like something was pulling him along, the desire to find you growing stronger the longer he looked. “I need to find her. Please, Mor.”

The hostess came back and handed a bag to Mor, who promptly turned around and dumped it into Cas’s arms. 

“Fine, then you can take this up to the House of Wind for me. I have some errands to run, you have an hour.” Cas’s face relaxed and he nodded, about to open his mouth to thank her when she waved a hand at him to dismiss him. 

But when they were back outside, she turned around to flash a sickly sweet smile at him. 

“Oh, and Cassian?” His eyes widened as he froze in place, wings spread and ready to take off. “If you hurt her, I will feed you to Bryaxis.” 

With that, she disappeared and Cassian took to the skies wondering what would be waiting for him when he arrived. 

— 

On the back deck of the House of Wind, you stood leaning against the railing, music swirling around you as you watched the sun sink behind the buildings of Velaris below. Lights blinked on one by one until the whole city was filled with twinkling stars.

With a joint in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, your mind was finally, blissfully, numb. Only the subtle ache deep in your core served as a reminder of your unfortunate situation, but even that was starting to dull. 

Of course, your peaceful night had to be ruined by the one male you had no desire to see. The sound of flapping wings and rushing of air past your face gave you a split-second warning, and then Cassian dropped to the ground behind you. 

You turned around and held the hand with the joint lazily balanced between two fingers at your forehead. 

“General Bloodshed, or whatever the fuck,” you said, wobbling on unsteady feet as you saluted him. Then you lowered your hand and took a long drag, holding the smoke in your lungs for as long as physically possible before letting it out in a steady stream pointed in his direction. “Come to fight for your fair maiden’s honor, or just to rub it in my face that you’re getting laid and you don’t need me anymore?”

“Y/N,” he said, all the anger draining from his body as he took in the bags under your eyes and the heavy winter clothes hanging off your frame even though Summer was right around the corner. It was like he was seeing you for the first time after a long mission away, noticing how much weight you’d lost, how tired your body looked. 

He set the food down on one of the lounge chairs and took slow, careful steps towards you. 

“Y/N,” he repeated, “What’s going on?”

“Nothin’, Cassie, nothin’ at all,” you said, pausing to hiccup before continuing. “I don’t care about Braelie, I don’t care about you, I don’t care about anything.” You thrust your arms out wide and turned to face the sunset, which was now casting a golden glow onto Velaris. “I’ve got a hot date with my fingers later, and I probably won’t even think about you.”

Cas ignored the heat flaring up low in his belly at the mental image that flashed behind his eyes. 

“Hey,” he whispered, coming up next to you and prying the joint from your hand. “Gimme that.” 

You turned to face him, lower lip stuck out in a pout. 

“Why? So you can leave me here and go get high with Braelie? I bet she’s real mouthy. You like em loud, don’t you? Like when females beg for that big Illyrian cock?”

Your voice got higher and higher, becoming breathless as you rambled on, letting all of your deepest, darkest, pent-up thoughts and feelings fall from your lips. Even though you knew you’d regret it in the morning, in the moment it felt so good to let them go. 

“Y/N, stop, just take a breath. I’m not going to leave you, okay!” Cassian stubbed out the joint and tossed it aside, putting his hands on your shoulders to force you to look at him. “I’m not going to see Braelie, I broke up with her this morning.” 

Your eyes glazed over as you looked him up and down, a lazy smirk blooming on your lips. 

“Ohhhh, I see how it is,” you drawled, waving a hand to summon the joint to you. Snapping your fingers to spark it back to life, you took another deep hit and then stuffed the unlit end into Cas’s mouth. He tried to protest but you held firm until he finally inhaled. Its effects hit immediately, and you watched as his shoulders drooped, muscles relaxing. With a wicked grin, you dropped from his loosened grip to your knees, palming his dick through his leathers. “Want me to kiss it better, put your broken heart back together?” 

A war waged behind Cas’s eyes; on the one hand, the mirthroot was clouding his judgment and lust threatened to take over at the sight of you looking up at him with wide eyes.  

On the other hand, he had set out to make things right, to talk to you and figure out the true nature of your feelings for him. Sleeping with you would send the wrong message. 

“Y/N, stop,” he grunted, pulling his hips back and shoving your hand away. 

“What?” you asked, your pout back in full force. “Want me to beg for it first, cause you know I will? Know I’ll give you anything you want?” You shoved yourself up to your feet, pushing onto your tiptoes so your narrowed eyes bore right into Cassian’s. 

He felt the tension that had been building all day melt away—the anger, the frustration, the confusion—all of it was gone with a snap of golden magic that flooded his body. 

You felt it, too, from your side of the bond, could see the moment it registered behind those hazel eyes. It felt like the bond was on your side, snapping just in time to help you prove a point.

“I’m done being your second choice, mate,” you snarled, plucking the joint from his hand before turning around and stalking into the house, leaving him stranded alone in the darkness. 

[anachronismstellar]

Another week another post of Airplane vs The System.

No, these are not following an order, my brain is scrambling this as we go lol

This is going to be posted on ao3 as soon as I finish it, I swear, I just- I just wanna finish it before posting so I break my fanfic writer curse orz

God Airplane, pls let me finish this 🧎‍♀️

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it :D

RIP Mobei-Jun born to be a powerful demon king, forced to play crazy sci-fi pc game 😔

---

The next time Mobei had woken up, he had felt slightly better. At least the headache was gone, and thankfully he could move his arms and legs. He still was encased in a white room, magical cool lights hurting his eyes, as if he were surrounded by fresh fallen snow.

“Welcome, Character_s201,” the voice from the Thing echoed around him, making him jump on his feet, a bit wobbly but ready for an attack. And just like their previous interactions, the Thing paused, waiting for his response, not bothered by the lack of it. “Very well. The parameters of this experiment are: to cross the chamber.”

A door, that he could swear wasn't there before, opened up in front of him showing a long corridor, the same cold lights following all its extension. To his side, a square blinked into existence, as if the writings of a talisman were held afloat in the air, in the center a repetition of what the Thing had said, with a small counter under it, a quarter of an hour time set going down.

Mobei wasn't stupid, and he wasn't about to test what would happen if the number reached zero.

He didn't run, because only fools would run straight to an unknown room. Still each step echoed as if he were walking over thousands of swords, the metallic sound making the hairs at the back of his neck stand up. He kept going, touching the walls from time to time, until he reached the end, a doorless opening exposing a perfect square room with no floor, only another opening on the other side of it, a good distance separating him from his goal. He looked down, only darkness stretching far beyond he could see. Another glance at the instructions showed him that nothing had changed except for the time, ten minutes passed after he was made to leave his previous cell.

He flicked his wrist, grabbing the threads of space, tearing reality apart until a portal appeared next to him. Again, he wouldn't be stupid to try escaping right now, no, the Thing was watching, It had said it was an experiment. So he conceded for now, extending his portal to the other side of the room, crossing it with ease.

“Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations!” the Thing announced as soon his feet touched the floor, the time freezing, the passage closing behind his back. “Important things must be told three times! The first chamber was completed in eleven minutes and fifty seven seconds. Please proceed to the next chamber.”

Mobei looked around, considering his options. What was the point of all this nonsense? What the Thing would gain from making him play such games? Even though curiosity made his throat burn, he refused to ask, instincts telling him that making questions would be playing right into the Thing's hands.

Left with no other choice, he walked. This time the next room was just around the corner, even bigger than before. As soon as he stepped inside, the door slid close, blocking his way back. A few steps ahead there was a wall made of glass, and on the other side of it, laying on a pedestal made of sharp angled metal was a sword, the blade the deepest blue Mobei had ever seen. Frost gathered around it, wisps of smoke curling from its sharp edge, as if it was made of shadows.

He wasn't the type of person to carry a sword, he could make his own from his ice, but he could admire a powerful weapon. Even behind the glass he could feel the cold energy coming from it, a hum in the air that made his teeth ache.

“Welcome, Character_s201, to the second chamber. Experiment parameters are: acquire the sword.”

Once more the voice came from everywhere, startling Mobei enough to make him blink. It was disconcerting to be bossed around by something he couldn't grasp.

Or punch.

And just like before the sign next to him blinked, the time now set to ten minutes. He held back his scoff, better not anger the Thing, but it felt as if It was just playing around, not actually giving him a challenge. With two portals he was in front of the pedestal, hand hovering over the handle, eyes looking up, waiting for another comment. When nothing came he took the sword for himself, the weight of it grounding him, as if confirming that this wasn't a crazy dream.

“Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations, Character_s201! Good things must be told three times!” It cheered on him with fake happiness. “Sword “Tengliu's Fortune” added to your inventory. Second chamber was completed in six minutes and forty nine seconds. Please proceed to the next chamber.”

Mobei-Jun looked around, searching for the next door. Maybe he should go back from where he came? But that made no sense, there was nothing else in that room.

A “ding!” sound rang in his ears, a new door appearing at the back of the room. He hesitated, the grip on the sword tightening up, waiting for an attack. He wouldn't be given a sword if something wasn't about to jump on him.

Then he felt it, the moment the air pressure shifted, the floor under his feet vanishing as the voice cheerfully announced:

“Experiment parameters are: survive.”

Mobei fell.

---

[discobiscotto]

“Signor Marcovaldo is my father, call me Alberto, Alby…or Maestro 😏”

If we’re talking predictability in design, adult Alberto was NOT easy. I had literally nothing to work from. No (living?) family to compare to, no hints at what kindof quirks he may develop. I had nothing!

All I had was that (assumed) deep-seated desire to be accepted, useful/helpful, and not left behind…..that, and yanno, that Charisma In Excess (as a KID no less, dude calm that shxt down or you’re grounded lol)

Alot of pawing around in the dark and just going with what felt right to me.

I took some cues here and there. Some pretty forward and commonly accepted (“You, the big strong one.” etc), others subtle and unassuming but I ran like the wind with it?

Anyway, here we go. What’s the deal with this walking bowl of spaghetti anyhow?

This will be a two parter. His seamonster form requires a separate post.

Alberto as I said is a bit of a wild card. He doesn’t have as much of an obvious blueprint compared to Luca or Giulia.

His physical appearance for his human form was based solely on environmental influence.

Physically I imagined him to be a bit rough around the edges. Kindof gaunt but not so much that he looks sick or weak. He’s pretty much just one big muscle. Not an ounce of fat on him. Nothing but sinew. Very toned and muscular but certainly not huge. He’s just solid and FIT.

He’s a guy from the docks. He’s a fisherman. He’s salty and peppered in scars. Heavy calloused hands. He picked up smoking at a young age. He spends endless hours in the sun, thus he’s still very freckly as an adult. His impulsive ass got a tooth busted out in a fist-fight. Five o clock shadow and untidy sandy facial hair. I imagined his hair growing more “out and up” than down. Tight coils suggest he’d likely have a ‘fro or pomp, so I combined the two, keeping that old Alberto “top heavy” hairdo lol.

Profoundly Italian, so he’s pretty furry everywhere. Being a hard worker for years, excessive sun exposure, substance use, he looks alittle “older” than he actually is. (Pushing 34 ish).

I made him very tall, 6’4” ish. I admit, I love a good “Tall Man x Small Man” dynamic, so that’s definitely a shameless “luberto-centric” choice lol But I also considered a funny “goldfish” concept where just like a goldfish only gets bigger when his bowl is bigger…perhaps nature was trying to make him “compete” and measure up or even end up bigger than Massimo. 😆

If there’s one thing I learned from “Ciao Alberto” it’s that Alberto has a deep desire to be useful and accepted. He tries through the entire film to impress Massimo and in turn hope Massimo accepts him and sees Alberto can be just as good at his knife-wielding barrel heaving badassery as he is.

Alberto ultimately ending up as a fisherman by trade was an easy choice. Not only do I write what I know (being a Mainer in the coast with a deep affinity with fishermen and shipbuilders) but it is the ultimate way to show his love for Massimo. To help carry on the legacy.

Alberto has mastered some unlikely skills as well. Not as unlikely as you’d expect though considering his desire to impress Massimo.

So consider this:

-Alright, Massimo is great at cooking. Alberto sucks EPICALLY at first but over time, his motivation to measure up to his hero and dad-figure makes him an amazing cook? Check.

-Massimo likes to sing. Alberto picks it up and finds he’s an Unreasonably Excellent Singer and prodigious musician who plays by ear? DOUBLE CHECK.

(Note: The lore and reasons behind this and Alberto’s mandolin will be a blogpost on its own eventually)

-Alberto being a competent and prolific/productive fisherman resulting in the family biz growing and delivering outside of Portorosso? Definitely a proud moment for Massimo.

So to me it all checks out, and drives home Alberto’s strong gumption and the next generation being better than the generation before. As a parent, I subscribe to this goal. I want my boys to be the “Big Strong Ones.”

There’s also the bit that Alberto is a bit of a lush and a party animal. Charismatic, has a bit of a Casanova complex. Charm pouring out of his ears. Why? Well, dang, I really don’t know. I guess bringing it back to that “Charisma In Excess” statement at the beginning of this, it just felt right somehow. I had it so that he really wasn’t all that conventionally attractive but had a level of animal magnetism that’s hard to resist.

There’s lore behind that too…but will be reserved for his “Fish Form” post.

I dunno, it’s probably cus he’s Italian. It could be that simple. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[achillean-knight]

✨ Guess who's in a drawing mood again ✨

Anyways, I wanted to design a post-scoop Mike... without the mask, bc I've been playing AND watching Hades again and remembered 2 characters who are skeletal/undead looking and got HELLA inspo for a post-scoop Mike with no Foxy mask.

This is also a good chance for me to ramble my ideas and thoughts about my Mike design, seeing as my choice in design for the original concept probably has raised some brows.

Rambling under the cut to keep this short for casual scrollers :D

The original concept with the mask was just, honestly, to let me not draw Mike's undead lookin' ass but after thinking on it more, I have an idea in my universe as to WHY he'd wear it again.

He's gone round to different Fazbear locations to work the nightshift, and I like the idea that in Fazbears Fright, he was a key component in helping the souls move on (Happiest day). After he let his brother's soul free from Golden Freddy, he felt content to wear his mask again, now lifting the heavy burdens of his past.

Plus, it saves him having to stare at himself in mirrors constantly.

He was also, I must add, told to continue wearing his mask because he ended up working at the Pizzaplex (somehow lol) and to conceal himself, he wears his mask to not arouse suspicion from people. Kids constantly ask him where Foxy is, though, if they see him.

Mike wears layer of clothing. His first layer on his torso is a long-sleeved turtleneck, next a hoodie, then a raincoat that he wears when he's working. (adorned with a "security" badge even though he isn't a security guard there) For pants, he wears baggy tracksuit pants and boots that reach up to the middle of his thigh. He also wears gloves because he hates looking at his rotten skin.

Before his mask, post-scooped Mike would apply bandaids and bandages to conceal any damage left by Ennard.

He pushes his hair back in his post-scooped years, because his hair falling in his face while wearing his mask irritates him alot

Mike wears so much deodorant to try and mask the smell of his skin- but god he smells like a teen smoker who drenched himself in deodorant at school to mask the smell of cigarettes, but everyone knows he smokes because of the fuck ton of deodorant he wears ����(he doesn't smoke)

Mike's pretty old by the time of the Pizzaplex- but he doesn't particularly look old, due to being scooped around his 20's.

He is immortal as he cannot find the will to move on while his families legacy continues.

He didn't experience the fire at the Pizzaria Sim Location, someone else was there (who? idk.)

Mike's below 6'0" but above 5'5" soooo, have fun guessing his height hee hee

He's still Bri'ish in my AU >:) All the Aftons are, I love their accents too much

He was besties with the Bonnie Bully when he was younger, and went separate ways from the two who wore the Freddy and Chica masks.

[hyperfixiation-station]

Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii, could I ask you to write a semi long story of graves x reader but reader falls in love with ghost, ghost also loves her . When graves betrays 141 reader has to decided to go with graves or ghost? :3

Choices, Choices, Choices Pt.1

TW: Brief mentions of violence

I hope this is what you were looking for!! If not please let me know and I will change it:)) Sorry for splitting it into two parts, I just figured you'd been waiting long enough lols.

It was a horrible, awful, thrilling realization to find you were in love with another man.

You had met Phillip Graves on a joint operation with the Shadows, long before you joined Task Force 141. It had been a fling, a one-nights stand after riding the high of battle. You never thought you’d see him again. But you did. And then you saw him again. And again. And again. 

Somewhere in that you stopped being coworkers with benefits. You exchanged numbers, and started meeting outside of work. And you fell in love. 

And in the beginning it was exciting. It was new and thrilling and wonderful. And as the years went by, it didn’t stop being wonderful, per se. It just…mellowed out. Your relationship went from ‘Oh we’re so in love’ to something that was just comfortable. 

And you were fine with that. It was nice, having someone that was always there, or at least, that you could rely on, even if maybe he didn’t always choose you first. But to be fair, you didn’t always choose him either. Work, friends, Life got in the way, and this comfortable, complacent love was not enough for the both of you. 

Either way, it was nice to know someone was waiting for you, who cared for you, even if it wasn’t always enough. You were happy. Or at least you thought you were. COntent to live life in this comfortable little relationship you had built for yourself.

And then you met Ghost, and felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time, something new, something exciting. 

It didn’t start out that way, of course. You found him almost arrogant at first, with his mask and his stand-offish personality. You got along much better with the rest of the team. Soap was funny and you liked his accent, and Gaz was, well, after the helicopter incident you found him much more intimidating than you had thought he was at first. But he was still fun. More so than Ghost was anyways. 

And then you were sent on a mission with him. You had begged Soap to go instead, but he was taking time off because he was a big jerk. The air between the two of you was tense, right up until you got shot. The bullet tore its way through your thigh, thankfully missing anything important but still hurting like a bitch. And you were alone, on the opposite side of the city from your teammate. 

He spent the entire time talking you through the city, telling dumb jokes and making stupid comments in an effort to keep you distracted and moving. He became a friend of sorts after that. You got closer, and as the days progressed, he became more human. He told bad jokes, didn’t like smoking all that much, liked dogs, and hated snakes. 

You hung out with him more and more, not realizing what was happening until it was too late. At first it was just going on missions together, without Soap or Gaz or anyone else. Then it was doing stakeout’s together. Then training together. Then laughing at his awful jokes, then his hand on your hips as he corrected your stance. And that's when you realized you were in love with him.

You panicked. You took leave, a whale week to go NC and get your head on straight.. Graves didn’t care, just gave you a quick kiss and told you to be safe before going back to work. 

So here you are, one the last day of your break, hiding out at an old friend's house as you try to come to terms with your feelings. So far, you have come to realize two things. One, You were in love with Simon Riley. Two, He was in love with you if the way your phone blew up was any indication. 

3-In-One: Where are ya lassie? Ghost won’t stop hounding Price Skeleton-boy: Where are you?  Skeleton-boy: Are you okay?   Skeleton-boy: Price told me you took leave.   Skeleton-boy: Are you okay? Skeleton-boy: Is it because of me? 3-In-One: Text him back already will ya?   Oh Captain My Captain: Will you please just text Simon. He’s driving me crazy. 

And that was just what you could see on your lock screen. You sigh, leaning your head back against the bed. You didn’t know what to do. On one hand, you felt something with Ghost that you had never felt before, even with Graves. On the other, you were in a committed relationship with a man you loved. Or at least that you used to. 

Guilt was eating you up inside. Ghost was new(ish) and fun, but Graves had been by your side for years. You couldn’t throw away years of a relationship just because something new came along. How did the saying go? Relationships take work or something? You weren’t sure, but you couldn’t just tell Phillip ‘Sorry, I found something new lol. We’re breaking up’. 

No, you would work on it before giving up. You scroll on your phone, ignoring the texts, looking for couples therapists. You shove down whatever it is you feel for Ghost, deciding to ignore it until you and Graves can work through your issues. You ignore your emotions, ignore the love, the guilt, the worry, the fear. Instead you focus solely on your phone, googling what to do when you fall out of love, how to reignite the flame, how to rekindle your relationship. 

You are at it for hours, scouring Reddit, Quora, Wikipedia, everything you can think of until it’s time to head back. The drive back is tense, with you blaring music so loud you can’t hear yourself think, hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. 

You enter the barracks, determined to find Graves and talk with him, but are stopped by a haggard-looking Price. 

“Y/N, its good to see you. I was worried you were going to be late.” He clasps your shoulder, steering you to the briefing room, “We have a lot to catch you up on.” 

[malii-the-bonehead]

The Other Woman pt5

heres part 5.. i know it took a while but honestly ive been slacking due to the rafe story im writing. i need to get more chapters of this done so that i dont have to stress about it as much as i have been.

Anyways enjoy part 5<3

Slow burn

Summary: Chris, a popular hockey player at school where Y/n went, found himself falling for the beautiful, shy girl. As time went on he found out who Y/n truly was as a person and ultimately, he had to make the choice, his girlfriend, or the other woman.

Part 5

I’m sitting in the parking lot of the cafe. Honestly, I didn’t want to be here. When I got home from the store, I found mom sprawled out on the floor, bottle in hand and puke next to her. I ended up having to drag her to bed and cleaning her mess. I wish I had the money to send her to a rehab place. She needs to get clean. I thought about texting dad and asking him, but I decided against it. I don’t want help from him. I didn’t need his help anyways.

Other than that mess, everything was fine. I ended up having spare time so I went to my plugs house and got a gram from him. Not for now, but whenever I felt like smoking. I had to restock in case, you know?

I sat in my car for about 15 minutes before receiving a text from Chris. 

You still coming? I checked the time. It was 5:34. I sent him a text back. 

I’m waiting on you, silly. I’ve been here for 15 minutes already. I put my phone down on the seat next to me. I reached into the backseat of my car and grabbed my old calculus textbook from last year. My phone rang.

I got here at 5 lol. I’ve been waiting for you since then. I’m already inside by the window. 

I quickly got out of my car. I didn’t know he was here. I rushed inside the small and homey feeling cafe. When I stepped into the building, the smell of apple pie and coffee filled my nose. I liked the smell of this place. I looked around, seeing Chris on his phone next to the window like he said he was. I walked over to him.

“I’m sorry you were waiting so long. I wish you told me you were already here,” I mumbled and sat down in the open seat across from him. He looked at me, placing his phone in his pocket. There were papers and two books scattered on the table, as well as a pastry, what looked to be a croissant. A chocolate croissant with a few bites taken out of it. I loved chocolate croissants.. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I didn’t know you were here either. We probably should have texted each other, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed. 

“Yeah, that would have been a good idea,” I giggled. “So, let's see what you’re working on.” I placed my book down, next to all the papers and books along the table. 

“Before we start, are you hungry? I’ll pay for it, just order what you want.” Chris smiled at me from across the table. I smiled back.

“No, no, I’ll pay for my food. Thank you though.” He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come on. It’s the least I can do for making you come all the way here just to help me study.” I shook my head. 

“Fine, but only this once.” I gave him a stern face. I meant it. I didn’t want him paying for me. I’d probably feel bad later for making him pay for me today. 

Chris asked me what I wanted. 

“Hm, I think I’ll get a chocolate croissant as well. Yours looks really good. Also a hot coffee, add sugar and creamer.” He looked at me, taking in the things I asked for. He nodded his head standing up.

“Anything else?” He asked.

“No, thank you.”

“I’ll be back in a sec.” He turned around, walking to the counter to order my food and coffee. I looked at the papers on the table, trying to read the handwriting on each one. Chris didn’t have very readable handwriting…

After a few minutes of trying to figure out what the papers said, Chris came back. He placed my food and coffee down in front of me as well as a water bottle. 

“One croissant, hot coffee, and water for the pretty lady,” He said before sitting back down in his chair. My face started to get warm. 

“Thanks,” I mumbled and looked away towards the window. 

“So, did you find out what all this shit means,” Chris grabbed a paper from the small stack in front of me. 

“To be honest, I couldn’t read your notes. But I could read the typed questions.” He laughed a little. 

“Yeah, my handwriting was never the best.”

“As long as you can read it, right?”

“Right,” he chuckled. He placed the paper in front of me and started pointing out the things he was struggling with. Time to get to work, I internally sighed. 

– 

Helping Chris wasn’t hard at all. He was a fast learner and quick to keep the information in his head. 

Chris groaned and stretched his arms over his head. He leaned back slightly before speaking. “Man, I’m tired. I think we need a break. We’ve been doing this for an hour and a half and I think I got the concept down.”

“How about you do these last three problems,” I scribbled two easy equations and one hard one before sliding the paper in his direction. “Then, we can take a break.”

Chris did the first two problems easily. The last one took him longer than the others but he got the right answer in the end. 

“You’re catching on really fast, Sturniolo.” He smiled at me, a big grin on his face.

“Thank you, Miss L/n.” I felt my cheeks turn pink from that. “You know, it seems like everytime I say something, your face turns pink.”

I felt my face get even pinker, probably red at this point.

“No it doesn’t,” I denied. I knew it did. But would I agree with him on that? No.

“Yes, I think it does. I see it all the time when I talk to you.”

I rolled my eyes.

Chris’s pov

My stomach hurts. It felt like someone was twisting my guts around. She made me so nervous and honestly, I don’t think she notices how she makes me feel. Everything she says makes my heart melt. When she calls me by my name, or even the nicknames she's given me. It makes me want to go feral. If I didn’t have any self control, and wasn’t raised right, then I probably would have. She makes me crazy and I hate it. But God, I love it so much. The feelings she makes me experience are unreal. So unreal to the point that I have to pinch myself sometimes to make sure it isn’t all a dream. 

“When do you think we should wrap this up? Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed being here with you today, but don’t you have better things to do?” She looked at me with a dazed face. She looked so pretty.

I wish I could tell her. Just tell her everything. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right about cleaning up. I’m not busy for the rest of the day, but it is getting late. You probably have some things to do, too.”

She looked out the window. “Actually, there is something I need to do.”

My face dropped. I didn’t want her to go yet. Not that I’d admit that to her.

“Well, thank you for the help, Y/n. I really appreciate it.” She noticed the look on my face. 

“Hey, since you’re not busy, why don’t you come with me? I can drop you off at home after if you’d like,” she offered. My face lit up again. 

“Really? Ah, that would be awesome,” I started to pack up my things, standing from my chair after her. 

As we walked towards the door, I asked her, “Where is it you need to go?” 

“First we’ll go to my car so u can put your things in it, then I need to go get a few books I’ve been dying to read. Luckily, the library is just across the street.” She almost skipped along the sidewalk to her car. 

“That sounds perfect.”

–

We made it to her car. She unlocked the door for me and I placed my bag in the passenger seat. She ended up giving me her old calculus book so my bag was pretty much bursting at this point. 

After we had finished up there, we started walking to the library. There was something soothing about being around her. Even if we didn’t talk, just her presence made me feel tingly inside. 

We made it to the very large building, walking through the automatic doors in the front. I pretty much followed her like a lost puppy.

We had come to a stop in front of the romance section. She dragged her fingers along the spines of some of the books along the shelves. She grabbed one, a thick book with torn edges and yellowed pages. 

“You really like the thickest books out there, don’t you,” I snickered behind her. 

She turned around and looked at me, a smug smile on her face. 

“Yes, maybe you should try reading one? You might learn something from these.” She giggled. I placed my hand on my heart, letting out a fake, pained sigh. She giggled again. “I’m only joking, Chris.”

She faced the shelves again, browsing a little before grabbing two more books. After that, we walked around some more. We went to the educational section, fiction, non-fiction, mystery, you name it. She seemed to have grabbed at least one book from every section. 

We found ourselves in front of the poetry section. 

“Do you need some help with those,” I questioned. She had a stack of at least 8 books in her hands, most of them thick and probably heavy.

“Please,” she sighed, handing me 4 of the 8. After, she looked around the poetry area when she noticed a book on the top shelf. She tried to reach up, failing to grab the thing that caught her eye.

I noticed her struggle and went behind her, reaching up and grabbing the book she had been reaching for. She turned around, looking up at me with a pink face.

“Your face is pink again,” I whispered. We were very close. So close that I almost felt her breath on my face. God, I want to kiss her so bad right now. This was the perfect chance, but I couldn’t. I have a girlfriend. 

“Is it?” She whispered back. I felt my stomach start to flip, once again. It seems to do that a lot these days.

“Very,” I replied. Time seemed to move slowly, not that I minded. 

She stayed looking at me. 

If you keep looking at me like that I might go insane, I thought. Her phone began to ring.  I pulled myself from her eyes, stepping back from her and handing her the big, brown poetry book. She took it, also grabbing her phone from her back pocket. She turned it off, picking her phone back up in the safety of her jeans. 

“Who was that?” 

“My mom,” she replied. “We should probably get going now.” She walked past me, speedily walking to the front of the library to check out the books. I hope I didn’t freak her out or anything. I really hope I didn’t.

Y/n’s pov

Mom texted me a few times after I declined her call. She had asked where I was and when I was going to be home. I shut off my phone, placing it in my lap. The stack of books in the backseat of my car were almost to the top of the seat. Chris had helped me carry them to my car. 

Now, I was driving him home. He sat awkwardly in the passenger seat. I noticed he had fiddled his thumbs a few times. Something people do when they’re nervous.

“You okay?” I questioned him. I kept my gaze on the road ahead of me.

“Yeah, I’m fine.'' I glanced at him briefly. 

“Okay.. If I did something to upset you, you’d tell me right?” 

“You didn’t do anything, Y/n. I guess I’m just upset our little adventure is coming to an end.”

I giggled at his statement.

“Come on, silly. Don’t be upset over spilled milk. We can hang out another day if you want. I just need to get home to my mother. I need to make sure she’s doing alright. I hope you understand.”

He nodded his head knowingly towards me. We ended up not talking the rest of the ride to his house. The music playing from my speakers was barely noticeable, but it left a good atmosphere between us. 

Chris had told me every turn to take until it was the final one into his driveway. Chris had a nice, big house. One that his parents must have worked very hard for.

“Thank you for today, Y/n. I had fun.” He looked at me before grabbing his bag off the passenger floor. 

“Me too, Chris. Me too.”

He opened the door and before shutting it, he said, “Text me when you get home so I know you made it safe. And be careful, it’s late.”

It was now 9. We spent the whole evening together. A few hours at the cafe and library and about an hour drive to his house. 

“I will, have a good night, Chris.”

He smiled at me and shut the door. I waited for him to get to his front door before beginning to pull out of his driveway. Before I could though, I noticed him wave goodbye to me. I waved back, then headed home for the night.

–

When I got home, mom wasn’t there. She was probably at the bar again. I sighed and went to my room. I grabbed some clothes and went to my bathroom, getting ready for my shower. I picked up my phone off my bedside table and opened Chris’s messages. I sent him a quick text.

I’m home and I made it safely. Not even 10 seconds later, I heard my phone ding. 

Thank God. I was starting to think you got kidnapped or something. I smiled at his message. I walked into the bathroom once again, running the shower on warm water. That would have sucked, wouldn't it?

100%. Then who would I talk to in 3rd hour? Me, myself, and I? I don’t think so.

I put my phone down on the counter by my sink. I stripped out of my clothes before picking it back up. 

If I were you I’d love to talk to myself lol. I waited for a text back for a few minutes, but not one came. I’m going to take a shower. I’ll text you when I’m out.

I shut off my phone and stepped into the warm water. I needed this shower so bad. Today was very, very long. 

When I finished showering, I put on my clothes and grabbed my phone. I went to my bed, getting under the covers and shutting off my light. I checked my messages. He still hadn’t responded. 

It’s nothing, Y/n. Don’t get attached. Don’t wait for his messages. And definitely don’t be upset when he doesn’t text back. 

I wanted to send him another text message, but I didn’t want to seem desperate. I ended up sending him another one anyway. A simple, Goodnight, Chris. Don’t let the bed bugs bite. I internally cringed. Why did I send that?

I shut off my phone and flipped over onto my side. It was time to get some rest. I had work tomorrow and it was already 10. I shut my eyes but when I did, the memory of Chris leaning over me at the library replayed in my head. I thought about what could have happened if my mom hadn’t called me at that moment. What that would have led to. I ended up falling asleep thinking about that. 

[kabartmatzu]

Oookaaay… Here is Marinette Dupain-Cheng aka Ladybug. There is not many doodles like in Chloe’s drawing because I didn’t want to lol. I worked on Ladybug waay before Chloe and I tried so many designs and I worked on this drawing for days because of my job so I kinda got bored of drawing her. But I will draw her more later, dw!

Now I want to tell a little about my design choices rather than her story. She is not so different from show anyway. I deleted her creepiness and made her “not wearing same outfit everyday”. Lmao. Also she talks a lot about fashion in every kind of situation. She is a talented person in many kind of things. She is kind, friendly and cares about others more than herself. I kept her clumsiness but not as annoying as in the show. She is late to school not because she over sleeps but because she spends so much time on her clothing I thought. She got miraculous on high school but story takes time in their university years. Nino is her high school friend. She met with Alya in university. They are roommates in dorm.

So there are rules I follow when I design their hero outfits. Like keep the eyes same as kwamii’s eyes. And there are some features every holder keeps. I mean for all the Ladybug users, they’ve got that black dot on their head and they can’t cover it. That’s why her fringe (?) is short. Also Marinette would like her hair out of her way. Or they get elytra and wings. Yes she got wings so does Queen Bee ( even tho i forgot to draw ) but they can’t fly I thought. They just can glide with them because wings are not big enough for a human to fly. Or Cat users always get ears. All users get sharper faces so they become unrecognizable also their skin tone changes a little. Ladybug users get redder Bee users get yellower etc.

So for Marinette I tried giving her Chinese symbols like some other redesigns. I would like to show it but I can’t get it thanks to Autodesk getting crushed :/ I like that design but still I didn’t went with that. I felt like it doesn’t help with the secret identity thing. So I went with reds over black like real ladybugs. 🐞 I also wanted white dots a lot because of, again, real ladybugs. But I didn’t like them so I added circles over black dots. I am not sure if it looks too complicated but I kinda liked them. Yellow would be good too with red and black but every character would have yellow on them if I did so. Chat Noir and Hawkmoth has yellow details in my redesigns that you will see in the future. (Kinda want to give that they are related they are son and father thing with same yellow lines. I thought its cute.) Queen Bee is also yellow soo I didn’t add yellow on Ladybug. Two stripes on her hips for ladybug’s third set of legs if that makes sense. Her legs and arms are black because ,again, ladybugs are like that. I also thought she added her ladybug thing on her neck after seeing Cat Noir’s bell hehehe. I like pig tails but I really wanted “antennas” to come from her hair so I changed them into buns and I kinda liked them.

Also about her earrings looking like triangles, in my version kwamiis can shapeshift and miraculouses are kind of a part of them so they also can change miraculouses looks. So Marinette has shapeshifting earrings so she doesn’t have to keep buying new earrings lmaoo. It is also good for hiding their identity!

For her powers I will make a post and explain my version of the power system so I will explain her powers there but let me tell you no.miraculous.ladybuging. No fixing every damage. No. Also her yoyo will have more abilities so does other users weapons. I don’t think I will keep the communication thing where they use them as phones. But I want yoyo to has the abilities in the 2D version. Like using it as smoke bomb or as a shield. Her elytra is also like a shield but she can’t take it in her hand. It always stays in her back. Or she can separate her yoyo from middle and make it kinda like nunchucks. I will draw those to explain better.

Also… I am not sure how she will use her creation power. I mean she creates something with her yoyo i mean lucky charm. But Chat Noir looks like he gets his destruction power from his ring. Did you get what I mean? I thought maybe Marinette should get the thing she created from her earrings and make all other users like that but like how Queen Bee’s venom will work then? Or Rena Rouge’s power?? I am not sureee. Maybe I should make them all use their weapons to use their powers or I can make all of them different? Any idea?

[nereidprinc3ss]

literally cannot remember for the life of me if i actually did remember to add my emoji to that last message after saying all that which is like more than a little embarrassing but it’s ME. 🧸 anyway i’m on part 5 now and like the spiel spencer rains on her is sooo crazy LOL it’s my first time reading it in a while and u know that one cartoon duck smoking gif that’s what i feel like reading this again like dangggg he was going IN and IN and IN again if i was reader i’d kms especially with the context she has in her head of the entire thing like omfggggg!!! especially this line

But if you can’t cope with how I feel about you then don’t let me hold you back.

DAYUMMMMM like if i’m her i have no choice but to take out everybody and myself that is so crazy. reading that paragraph felt like u know like the gong on soundboards LMFAO it’s like there was a gong after every sentence cuz he just kept saying something crazy omg spencer let her get up!

part 5 is such an experience i actually love it LOL in the moment i was stressed for my life but knowing what’s coming next i’m just like kicking my feet and smiling cuz i know it’s gonna be okay like i love hurt comfort and so these three parts of dybmn are actually very enjoyable to me LOLL okay this is getting longer than i wanted i am done now

LIKE THE VINE BOOM SOUND EFFECT😭😭😭😭😭😭 OMG THAT’S SO FUNNY

Anyway yeah he got a little evil but if you think about it from his perspective HE thinks he basically confessed his love for her over the phone along with the whole traumatic elle situation and then she essentially ghosts him for a week after hearing that, and when he calls her she’s being a bitch and doesn’t wanna come out to Derek’s birthday and is being so incredibly icy and rude and he has no idea why and she’s like go by yourself I don’t wanna talk to you anymore and then she DOES show up to the bar and continues to essentially punish him and he has no idea why so he gives this whole speech that is yes fueled by a lot of frustration but the way he INTENDED it all to be was like I am in love with you and I get it you don’t feel the same way about me but why are you being so cruel about it like he’s baffled this girl is not the girl he knows!!

So anyways that’s why it was always forgivable to ME but I know it made a lot of people so mad they almost stopped reading

[cyrusreblogs]

Ok so I love so much about this and I absolutely understand how bad smoking is for you but are we talking about gate keeping access to HRT dependent on smoking cessation? It’s not clear to me one way or the other. OP sounds lovely and I’m hopeful that they just nag their patients to quit a lot or offer them resources about quitting. But my mom’s doc denied her access to HRT as treatment for menopause unless she could quit smoking, and she had hot flashes for about six months (longer?) before she was able to quit long enough to qualify for the hormones that stopped them. My mom is in surprisingly good health for a lifelong smoker — fewer back problems than me, healthy heart, healthy digestion, no respiratory issues that I know of. Her knees aren’t fantastic but that’s not because of smoking. And the hot flashes pretty seriously impacted her quality of life for a while. I’ve had hot flashes before, back when I first started T. They’re unpleasant, and I didn’t love that the hormones were being withheld on condition of smoking cessation, something my mother has been trying and failing to do ever since I was a kid. (Though I figured it was a good motivator — and it was. She quit for longer than she ever has before, lol. She’s back at it now, unfortunately.)

But gender dysphoria is (or at least can be) much worse than hot flashes, and more hazardous to one’s health, especially if we’re engaging in self harm, self destructive behaviors, or suicidal ideations as a result of dysphoria. So I do agree that quitting should be the goal, but not a prerequisite for taking hormones unless there’s further context indicating elevated cardiovascular risk. My mom didn’t have any. If my hypothetical trans mom had been denied access to gender-affirming HRT on the same grounds with the same health markers, I would be livid.

Also I want to say that I smoked for about five years and once I decided to quit it was actually pretty easy (I waited to have a cold, when cigarettes naturally disgust me, and used the break to get over the chemical addiction, after which it was purely psychological and not very strong at that point because I missed my sense of smell. And freedom from cravings — felt like such a burden to have to smoke every few hours. In case this helps anyone) BUT it is also very clear to me that quitting is not that easy for everyone. It unsettles me the way that people see a health risk that has some relationship to behavior (weight comes to mind, though Maintenance Phase has kind of disillusioned me about a lot of the relationship between weight and behavior or between weight and health — there is a lot to unpack there) and immediately start dogpiling on people with that behavior or health risk in the name of good health or good public policy. That’s not what’s happening here in this post, I guess I’m just easily triggered by remembering all of the unsolicited lectures about the dangers of smoking from random acquaintances and the fear that I might not be able to get access to testosterone. I do dislike the stigma about smokers. I think it’s veiled classism, pretty frequently, and often feels victim-blamey, as if being a smoker means you’re morally aligned with Big Tobacco, as if getting sucked in by our cultural obsession with smoking or the way it feels chemically means that you’re voting with your dollar in favor of Marlboro.

Anyway anyway. This post I’m reblogging isn’t doing that. I’m just over here in my feelings about it, clutching my tobacco-smoke-stained pearls.

Quit if you can! Especially if you’re getting any kind of surgery! But if you can’t, there should be some kind of risk-aware, informed consent model of care, shouldn’t there? Know the consequences (necrotic tissue due to poor circulation and healing following surgery, for instance — of particular relevance to trans people who smoke: your whole brand new dick could fall off) and manage the risks as best you can while making informed choices about your body and your healthcare.

For the most part, my approach to prescribing hormones is “sure,” but I will note that the one thing I lean HARD on patients about is smoking. If you’re transgender, and you’re on hormones, the number one thing we want to protect is your cardiovascular health. That’s frankly the number one thing I want to protect in all my patients, but anyone taking exogenous hormones is at higher baseline risk. And the best thing you can do for your heart is DON’T SMOKE. It’s a bitch to quit, and I didn’t even smoke much or long before I quit in my late teens, and I STILL didn’t enjoy quitting and had smoking dreams for years. It’s harder to quit than just about anything else up to and including crack and heroin, and that’s coming from a patient of mine who recently passed in her early 60s who’d done all of those things—for years and years—but eventually was able to quit everything except smoking. And that killed her. She developed severe COPD and eventually called to say her blood oxygen saturation was dipping into the 70s, which is incompatible with life. She was lucid enough to decline medical care, including refusing to call 911 or go to the ER. A week later, after both I and one of our outreach nurses had contacted her to ask her to please go to the ER, I got a notification that she’d been found dead. She had been so frustrated that she wasn’t a candidate for a lung transplant.

One of my oldest trans patients is in her late 50s. She’s had blood clots that went to the lungs. Repeatedly. Smoking raises that risk. Estrogen raises that risk. She’s a veteran with PTSD; of course she smoked.

These aren’t theoretical. These are humans I’ve cared for over years of their lives. I have been rooting for them—my beloved former addict, who spoke without shame about her years of homelessness and drug use in the city; my queer elders, who are slowly trading in their motorcycles for power scooters. I want everyone to live their fullest, best life.

Smoking doesn’t fit into that. Please don’t smoke. I don’t want you to die like that—not now and not later. I want you to have the future that you may not be able to see yet, but exists.

Since I moved home as an out queer, word got out, and there’s a whole apartment complex of lesbians in their 60s to their 80s who come see me—sitting next to their wives in the office, nagging about blood pressure meds, tattling about not having gotten the shingles shot they said they would. To be clear, when I was growing up in town, I knew no lesbians. Not one. I knew one gay kid in my class, which eventually turned into two. We were it. To see these women living decades with their wives and being able to squabble like any couple in my office over who was supposed to bring their home blood pressure cuff in for us to check it… it means the world to me.

[sensenotsense]

i took a nap today and had a weird silent hill like dream. sowwie for any typos and grammar errors

It was like I was in silent hill but different than any of the games. It was a mix of a hospital, sewer, and school. Instead of being a typical layout it was a huge tower. Some of the floors would follow the same aesthetics/theme, but after so many floors, it would change. So like some of the floors would have white tile walls and floors to carpet and office furniture. In the dream I mostly saw the hospital/meat locker(?) level but started getting to an office/school setting. Also, in the dream some of rooms looked like a ps1-ps2 game or realistic/irl. most of the ps1-ps2 were of the hospital/freezer levels, but some of them would be realistic too. I also had like video game transitions between levels like the resident evil door opening but it was clanking footsteps why the camera does down a ladder.

It wasn't just me i also had some other people i was working with to get out. Not James Sunderland, Heather/Maria/Other, and a German Shepard. Not James looked a lot like James and he had an axe and shotgun, but had a more raspy and southern accent. I think he was older too and the german shepard was his dog too. I think her name was daisy or something sweet. I feel like he either woke up in the hospital after a car crash or he wandered in looking for help after seeing a crash. He could also be looking for his daughter(?) I don't quite remember. Heather/Maria/Other was a mix of those two and other horror girl I can't think of maybe Ellie, but I never interacted with TLOU. I don't remember the reason why she was there. I remember her trying to be smiley, but once we looked away her mask would drop. She'd also separate from the group to go smoke.

Anyways, we started at the top of the building and had to make our way down to the first floor to get out. To go to the next floor we had to find a hole in the floor with a ladder. Depending on the theme of the floor/new floor the ladder will change. Some were rusty, some were wood, and so on. Overall we don't really get how we got to the top and not recognizing anything in the building. Since its in silent hill there are monsters. They were mostly fleshy humanoid monsters with yellowed teeth. Some had eyes and some were eyeless. Some were also clothed and would fit with the theme of the floors or they would be naked (no genitals lol). I also remember large bugs and fucked up hell dogs. Not James fought most of the monsters sometimes H/M/O would also fight(she has a pistol/handgun) and I'd hold the flashlight lmao. to be honest I don't remember seeing many monsters but i knew they were there. I think not james might have kept us in a safe room while he would take out the monster/scout ahead cleaning up the floors.

After going thru so many levels we get to an office/college set of floors and meet people/elves(? they had longer pointed ears). Some of these people felt like family either mine or H/M/O, but also like we were party crashing. The elves were eating and acting like it was a typical family get together. We were walking thru the party to look for info and supplies and ended up separating. The elves acted like we were family and offering plates of food to me. I also started thinking the elves were faries so I didn't want to eat anything fearing i would be trapped there. The last thing I remember was I saw not james and H/M/O and had to make a choice of who I was going to first. I think they both were about to eat something and i had to try and stop them. Then I woke up before making a choice, but I feel like I was heading to H/M/O first. I also feel like one of them already ate food before i got to them, so, locking into a "bad end".

[garlique]

being an adult is so fucking stressful and this cat bullshit is NOT making it any easier !!!

[baronessblixen]

Prompt (after Syzysy or whatever the name of that episode is, lol) --- "Something smells pretty good" Mulder said. "Well whatever it is, it's not my perfume!" Scully answered defensive.

Post-ep for Syzygy. Mulder and Scully are stranded and have to share a motel room.

Fictober Day 14 | Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022 | Wc: 1,483

A Bit On The Nose

At one point Scully has to admit they’re lost. Well, she is. Mulder nods, visibly biting his lip to keep himself from saying something. He doesn’t have to open his mouth for her to know what he’s thinking. If he’d driven them, or if she’d listened to him, they wouldn’t be here now. Wherever here even is.

“There’s a motel over there.” Mulder points to a sign that reads ‘Lord’s Pinnacle Motel’, reminding her that they’re definitely not in Comity anymore.

Scully sighs and steers their car towards the deserted parking lot. Staying here is their best choice. They’re who knows how far away from the airport and they’ve missed their flight anyway. Tomorrow morning, one of them will book new flights while the other talks to Skinner and explains what happened. Scully can only hope that she herself understands the situation by tomorrow.

The further away from Comity they drove, the calmer she felt. And more embarrassed. Her behavior has been irrational, to say the least. But some feelings still linger. When she looks at Mulder and he cracks open a sunflower seed, something she should be used to, she can still recall the anger boiling in her veins.

She knows what it was, but she refuses to give it a name. Refuses to acknowledge it at all. But still, the image of Mulder and Detective White is carved in her mind. That woman on him. She shudders just thinking about it and only snaps out of it when Mulder throws her overnight bag at her feet.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, trotting off. Scully grabs her bag and follows him inside. The place is dimly lit and reeks of cold cigarette smoke. Her nose twitches in disgust but holding her breath is not an option.

“Two rooms please,” Mulder says.

“Can’t do,” the man at the reception desk says. “Can give you one room.”

“There are like two cars in the parking lot,” Mulder says. The guy behind the counter just shrugs.

“Take it or leave it.”

“We’ll take it,” Scully says, regretting it immediately. However, spending the night on the road is not a good idea. Mulder gives her a look and shrugs. He pays with their Bureau credit card and snatches the keys off the counter. Apparently, he packed his frustration and anger up in his bag and brought it with him.

Their room is surprisingly clean and roomy. There’s only one bed and no couch, which will pose a problem. Scully ignores it for the moment, checking out the bathroom. When she returns to the room, Mulder is on the bed – sans shoes, luckily – flipping through the TV channels. There’s a hint of a smile on his face, assuring her that maybe not all is lost.

“Never appreciated different channels more,” he says, looking at her. His expression doesn’t change. The smile stays, and the hope in her grows. But there’s something she has to do before they can put this behind them.

“I’m sorry, Mulder,” she says, defeated.

“We’ve stayed in worse places. Go take a shower. I’ll find us something to watch.”

After not talking to her at all on their drive here – despite reminding her that they were going the wrong way and her ignoring him – he’s chipper. Too much so.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but… let’s just forget about it. We’re here now and it could be worse. Right?” She nods before she locks herself in the bathroom.

Scully thinks about his behavior as she stands there in the shower, her eyes closed. The water is hot, almost scalding her. She needs it. She scrubs her skin, needing to wash off what happened in Comity. What she did and what she saw.

Her jealousy is not something she thinks about a lot. She never talks about it. It’s something she’s buried deep, deep down inside of herself. Melissa knew about it, of course, and liked to make fun of it. She called it her irrational streak. There’s no reason to feel jealous. Mulder can be interested in whomever he pleases. She grimaces. But does it have to be Detective White?

Scully stays in the shower until the water runs cold. She towels herself off and puts on her pajamas, feeling almost normal. Mulder has picked a movie and has changed into more comfortable clothes. He glances at her, taking her in, as she emerges from the bathroom.

“All yours,” she says. “I fear I might have used all the hot water.”

“Don’t feel like a shower anyway.”

“What are we watching?”

“The Sound of Music,” Mulder says.

“That’s not your usual kind of movie.”

“I like it. I can find something else if you want.”

“No, leave it. I like the movie, too.” The movie doesn’t bother her. The sleeping situation, however… she’s so used to being around Mulder that sometimes she forgets how big he is. How much room he takes up. Not just in her life, but in the world. The bed should be big enough for two people. But seeing Mulder in there, she can’t help but wonder how she’ll fit in.

“Do you need me to scoot over?”

“It’s fine,” she says, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to him. She lies down, keeping to the edge, and as far away from Mulder as possible. She’s never once minded sharing space with him. They’ve even shared a bed before, once or twice. Today she’s too aware of his body and things unspoken. There’s too much between them. Except space.

“If the TV bothers you, let me know.”

“It doesn’t,” she replies. “I’m just tired.”

“Long day,” Mulder says. He’s quite for a moment and Scully closes her eyes, praying for sleep. The sooner she falls asleep, the sooner she can wake up, and they can go home. Tomorrow, she’ll let Mulder drive. Just as she’s getting comfortable, Mulder decides to speak again.

“Hmm, something smells pretty good.” Scully’s eyes pop open again. It’s like he pulled a trigger on her and now all the rage she felt earlier returns to her.

“Well,” she says, her voice laced with annoyance and defensiveness that she can’t stop from slipping in. “Whatever it is, it’s not my perfume.”

“But,” Mulder starts. He falls quiet and Scully, still turned away from him, hears her own heart pounding in her chest. The mattress moves, which means Mulder must be moving, too. His heat is by her back and she catches a whiff of him as he leans over her.

“It is you,” he says, sounding surprised. “It’s you, Scully.” His soft voice makes her turn around.

“I’m not wearing any perfume,” she says.

“Then it’s… you.” He takes a strand of hair, looking at her. “Can I?” She just nods, watching him as he sniffs it. “Definitely you. Give me your hand.”

“Mulder, this is ridiculous.”

“Your hand, please.” She gives it to him, stifling a laugh. Her mood is turning back around with every second that passes. He sniffs her hand, too, and she can no longer keep her chuckle in.

“Are you done now?”

“Hmm, yeah. You smell amazing, Scully. Has anyone ever told you this? It was you all along. It wasn’t- something wasn’t right in that town, Scully.” She could deny it and find logical explanations. But she doesn’t. She hasn’t quite figured out what happened with them – and between them – in Comity. Right here, right now, she feels like herself. Looking at Mulder, she feels like she always feels when she’s around him. Safe. Trusted. There’s no anger inside her now. It dissipated as quickly as it appeared.

“You’re right.”

“Wait,” he says, his eyes huge. “Did you just- did you just say I’m right?”

“Don’t push it, Mulder.”

“You said I’m right, Scully. Let me have this. Where is my diary when I need it?” He grins at her. “If I, um, if I get too close to you tonight… just kick me. I respond well to kicking according to… people.” Jealousy rears its ugly head again, but Scully shoots it down. Mulder has a past, just like she has.

“I have no intention of kicking you.”

“I can’t promise my nose will stay away from you.” She imagines waking up to Mulder’s nose burrowed in her hair, or her neck. His warmth all around her, their limbs tangled. Heat rises in her chest and into her face.

“I won’t hold it against you. Now let’s watch the movie.” He nods and Scully finds herself drifting closer to him, drawn by an unknown force. Her eyes are heavy, and she knows she will be asleep before Maria and Captain von Trapp are married. The last thing she hears is Mulder hum ‘Something Good’ and she thinks this disastrous night, in this mediocre motel, might indeed be something quite good after all.

[leviiattacks]

May I request a Levi x Reader angst fic? Just barely any fluff, mostly angst going on lol. The reader is a traitor, formaly working for Marley, but betraying them in secret and putting their loyalty on Paradis. The reader is also a shifter and married to Levi for a couple of years. That love and care however is gone once readers identity is found. He truly despises them, insults them, maybe a bit violent with them, and outright tells them that they mean nothing to him anymore and hate them to bits. Readers punishment is to hand over her titan to Erwin, and they agree instantly, broken over everything, believing its all their fault. Once Erwin inherits Readers titan, he breaks down and screams, crying, because Reader was innocent the whole time. They never betrayed Paradis. Never killed anyone, never harmed anyone. They finaly know why they betrayed Marley, the abuse being to much for them, enough to just leave them behind for Paradis. Just... loving and caring as they all saw them. But now the damage is done. They wont come back, they're dead, believing that they died, hated and despised, with no one to mourn their death. Everyone regrets everything.

author note :: i was thinking of leaving this in my drafts but i already wrote it and may as well post it. it didn’t end up going the way i hoped but yeah i hope it’s ok anon. anyways ANGST. ANGST, ANGST. as always i love feed back :-) ⟹ all of the headings with the years are just meant to mean it’s a different moment from that year so those moments don’t happen right after each other i hope that makes sense!! word count :: 7.2k warnings :: canon typical violence, death

845, i.

Everything is falling in place when it shouldn't.

Sun never makes itself known in Liberio yet here it is shining down onto the bustling streets. You half expect for it to crash down and burn into the hundreds of civilians going about their daily business yet nothing of the sort happens. It's typical sunlight and you curse yourself silently for your sinister thoughts.

Secretly the voice at the back of your mind still whispers frantically but you don't wish to hear what it has to say. Instead you choose to drown it out with the sound of Zeke's voice. Finally deciding to pay attention to what it is he's been droning on about for the past ten minutes.

"Soon, soon, soon." He sighs dreamily looking a little delirious.

"Soon?"

Your question catches him off guard, he lightly shoves you with his elbow scoffing in annoyance.

"Did you sit here to not even listen to me?" He turns to take a sip of whisky and the hearty gulp he chugs shows his mild irritation. You assume he's been rambling on about Marley's plan to infiltrate Paradis. You have to admit that the idea of destroying those demons from the inside is amazingly well thought out. However it's all he's been able to discuss for the entire week now and frankly you're getting a little exhausted of it.

"I zoned out..." Quietly placing your glass back down onto the wooden counter you sigh closing your eyes. It's too early to be drinking and you don't trust Zeke enough to slip into ignorance and leave yourself vulnerable. Men are to not be trusted, especially Eldian men. The thought of Eldians triggers your flight of fight response, you want to shrivel up into a cocoon and never come out until the world is rid of the monsters. The lowest of the low, the dirt in between the crevices of Marleyan soldier's boots. That is what Eldian's are.

It's ironic coming from you, your entire family labelled as undesirable Eldians yourself but you, you know you're different. An honorary Marleyan is what you will become. What you are. The treacherous imps who are but an ocean away are the true evil.

Eyes flicking to Zeke he's lighting a cigar. Old habits die hard and he's yet to quit this self destructive custom of his. You couldn't care less if he chooses to cut his lifespan short by ten years, it's his own choice to make. A disgusting cowardly choice but it's a choice fit for an untamed man like him.

The Island Devils are said to be the bad apples but you can't help but stare at your fellow citizens from time to time and wonder what it is they could be hiding. If a demon slipped through the cracks you wouldn't be surprised. Sly in nature, persuasive in tone, that is how devils go about their daily lives alone The hymns they drilled into you all the way through elementary school echo and rebound in your mind.

Locking your bitter thoughts away you have to push yourself to not punt Zeke in the mouth when he teasingly blows a puff of hot smoke into your face.

Fingertips grazing with his he freezes at the sudden contact giving you the perfect opportunity to slip his cigar away and take it in between your lips. You allow for it to linger there but you aren't foolish enough to inhale its contents.

"Zeke, my dear friend. We shall soon be met with the fruits of our own labour but I assure you that discussing Marley's plan constantly will be of no benefit for you nor I."

The day you and Zeke had met had been at warrior training camp. Zeke was a miserable, unmotivated oaf. Always tripping and falling behind the rest of the warrior cadets. You felt rather bad for him, if you were born as unskilled as him you don't know what you would have made of yourself. Zeke, the only child of his parents ironically only ever ended up rising through the ranks after handing them over to the Marleyan government. His father and mother had been conspiring an escape plan but were executed immediately alongside their fellow team members once Zeke had outted them. Unexpectedly he was spared, the fact he turned on his own parents showed where his loyalties were. To his surprise, he was even allowed to continue his training with the other warriors - only this time everyone kept an increased distance away from him. The warriors weren't informed of what he had actually done but everyone had a gut feeling. Everyone apart from you stuck with that feeling. You thought strategically, If he were to become an enemy in the future you knew being close would come at your advantage.

The day you and Zeke had met your mother died, his mother passed away the same day. At least that's what he had told you.

The two of you bonded over the little things, told each other stories about your life at home. Reminisced about what it was you missed.

Then it all came crashing down the day Zeke confessed. The day he told you he killed his mother and father by handing them over to Marley. Your knees buckled underneath you, crashing the floor he tried to grab at you but you thrashed around in retaliation kicking and screaming not understanding why he did what he did. Yes, they were traitors but they were his parents and if the monster had the nerve to turn on the people who gave birth to him who's to say he wouldn't do the same to you or to Marley.

Zeke doesn't know it but ever since then you take the opportunity to sneak the occasional glance at him. Every single time you narrow your eyes in malice. If there's a man in Liberio who you don't trust in the slightest it's him, he must think the feud between the two of you from childhood has been put at rest but it hasn't.

Zeke takes another swig of his alcohol. On this occasion he downs it entirely slamming the glass down with vigour.

"ONE MORE GLASS BARTENDER!"

846, i.

Another day of extensive training is about to end, your back is layered in uncomfortable layers of sweat and the same can be said for your forehead. Kneeling down in the under layer of the forest you're hidden waiting to strike. Going up against the elites is nerve-wracking but you're sure you can pull it off so long as you stay calm during this game of hunters against prey.

It's simple enough if you can conceal yourself and stay out of sight. The robust trees that surround you act as decent enough camouflage and your green cape paired with them lets you veil yourself, keeping you further into the foreground, blending into the environment.

No one will be able to catch you if they can't see you.

All of a sudden your previous thoughts are thrown away when you sense something in the atmosphere has changed, the hissing of the wind behind you isn't natural.

Turning to your side you don't bother to cover up the sound of leaves rustling and branches cracking, your priority is slipping away fast enough to hide again, a tug can be felt at your cloak and your reaction time barely covers for you, your gear fastens itself to a low enough tree branch and the descent is mind numbing. Your breakfast churns in your stomach but you ignore the uneasy feeling, leaping and diving wherever you find a small enough gap. You believe you can outrun your huntsman.

That is until you sneak a glance back and your muscles nearly tense up in pure astonishment, you've been kicked in the teeth just by the man's presence. Captain, Levi slinks behind you weaving through the gaps with increasing speed, he's gaining momentum and all the while his face stays relaxed, this isn't even his full effort.

Terrified you dart upwards and then left, a corner comes into view - Levi should assume you've turned into it and so you rashly choose to dart back down. Much to your hard luck you find that his senses are well adapted, the direction of the wind is enough for him to trace your whereabouts.

The pursuit resumes, and he stays disturbingly relentless.

Arm shooting to the right you think perhaps making it look like you're aiming to fly somewhere else again will completely catch him off guard, he can't expect for you to pull the same trick twice.

Setting your plan into motion your finger pulls at the trigger but you startle when the cable doesn't come out, it's jammed. Panic seeps into you and to make matters worse your gas is running out.

Without warning you're thrust into the body of a nearby tree, the bark scrapes against you and scratches begin to form anywhere you've made contact with the jagged surface, you want to admit defeat but the warrior inside of you denies Levi the pleasure of seeing you beg. In its place you deliver a harsh kick to his thigh, you're aware he's injured it and you're certain there are no rules to say you can't play dirty. Your boots hammer against leg hard enough for him to give out and let go of your body, but then you realize you lost this game from the very moment your grapple hooks broke, you have nowhere to hold onto.

Before you can even let out a shriek of horror Levi's shot back to you, he frantically accelerates and by a miracle humanity's strongest is able to grab a hold of you again. This time you don't dig your heels into his leg and you allow for him to clutch you by the torso.

Within a minute the two of you descend towards the forest floor and Levi throws you into the dirt furiously.

"You could have died. Being foolhardy will only lead to an early death." He barks as he directs his blade towards your neck.

"Am I dead yet?" Whispering back your gaze isn't trained on the blade but right up at him.

His nostrils flare up, his hair sticks to his forehead haphazardly and the knuckles that hold his pointed blades are white in tangled dissatisfaction.

Grabbing you by the hips he flings you over his shoulder choosing to not continue with the confrontation.

"I know what you're up to." His voice is still rugged from the pursuit and it takes you a split second to register what he's said.

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches in your throat, no way, there's no way in hell he knows. He's sharp but he's not a mind reader.

Your position means he can't read your face seeing as you're facing his back, instantly steeling your features you let out a breathy laugh.

"And what may that be?" Silently you pray he's worded himself ambiguously to catch a slip up.

"Being gutsy, you think that makes you a good soldier. It doesn't."

Relief floods you. He doesn't know.

"Soldiers need to be brave." Your retort makes him grumble.

"If  you die with no meaning by being reckless what's the purpose of being a soldier?" His question has you stopping and thinking on what the correct answer is.

Unable to think of an answer you ask another question.

"Are you saying your previous comrades died without meaning?"

"No. Their deaths fueled me slay more titans."

"So if I died back there who wou-" He swiftly cuts you off showing no inclination of wanting to hear what it is you have to say.

"I'll cut your tongue off if it's stupid." He clearly isn't serious about the threat but he does mean it when he warns you to not overstep.

Despite the consequences you say what's on your mind. "I just wanted to ask who would give my life meaning if I ever died. I don't have siblings and my parents died long ago."

Silence follows and the crunch of his boots against the muddy leaves tells you he probably doesn't wish to answer your question.

"Sorry-"

"I would. I would give meaning to your life." He says it with such ease you almost want to admire the enemy but you know he's said it because he feels he has to.

"You barely know me but I hope one day you can stop thinking everyone has to rely on you." You say it with taunting understanding.

Another bout of silence follows. Only this time the two of you feel warmly comforted, he doesn't understand how you've seen through his facade but it's easy for you to spot another liar.

846, ii.

Brows drawn back you observe your surroundings attempting to mask your scrutiny. The place is running amok with uncontrollable Eldian folk. The stench of unadulterated sin makes itself known but you seem to be the only person able to smell it. Eren bumps against the table you're sat at and your face twitches a little but you say nothing. You're yet to get used to these people's lack of manners.

At least that's how you force yourself to think. To be truthful, you don't quite understand what it is these people have done wrong. Ever since you've arrived you've been nitpicking at every single minor inconvenience or possible issue. A girl stole a potato and broke it into uneven pieces to share and you attempted to twist the story in your head to make her look like an unfair, greedy voracious demon but... you found yourself finding very little to actually be angry at. These people are essentially normal in every way of the word, they aren't demons and you can't help but feel yourself slip away from everything you once knew as reality. You're finding it difficult to believe what years of Marleyan education taught you, the hymns that were once drilled into your brain permanently are but a vague memory.

You feel disgustingly under-dressed and out of place, you don't belong here not when you're meant to hate these people, not when you're meant to despise them. You should be fighting the urge to shove their heads onto pitchforks or to skin them alive and feed them to pigs. Everyone back in Marley told you to control your impulses but now you're here and you've settled down even having the opportunity to converse with these individuals, share their pain, share their loss, share their suffering, you wonder why you have no impulses to control. Have they brainwashed you? Or is it that you're the real demon in this situation?

Fingers mingling with each other on your lap you sit hopelessly alone. Interacting with the so called enemy is much harder than you expect. Worry consistently bubbles in the pit of your stomach and every night is spent tossing and turning evaluating then reevaluating who the bad guy really is. At first the task of daily interaction isn't a big deal, you find it easy enough to approach members of the team and fake interest in their lives until the original plan falls through. You do become invested in your team members lives and stories that it comes to the point where you don't have to force yourself to smile at their jokes or to sympathize with their tales of grief. You become one of them and you swear you're meant to feel like a traitor but eerily you feel like you belong.

Nevertheless you try your best to stick with what you know. You're nothing like Zeke, you're loyal, capable, faithful and trustworthy. Never will you turn your back on Marley.

Rising to excuse yourself from dinner you think you've just about made it and escaped finally able to hide away in the confines of your bedroom but your lips form into a straight uncomfortable line at the feeling of someone's hand latching at your wrist. You're halfway down the hallway just a few more steps away from your bedroom. You hope it's one of the rookies.

"Oi, come here."

Head shooting backwards your eyes land on Levi, his dark curtains fall in front of his eyes - you note that he hasn't trimmed them as he usually does. Despite his size his grip is firm and your wrist squirms around a little trying to manoeuvre out of his bruising grasp. He seems to notice he's underestimated his strength once again and loosens his hold on you. Narrowed eyes analyse your anxious form, they're grey and in this lighting almost glow appearing silver. For a brief second your mouth is left ajar by the delicate but rough manner of his face.

"Everything Okay?" He doesn't typically seem to care very much about anyone, the question activates your senses and you're on full alert but the eye contact you make with him seconds later slows down the gears in your mind, they only whir and hum in anticipation completely coming to a halt.

"Yes, yes everything is okay." You're playing around with the hem of your shirt and you silently question when you were ever this nervous around anyone. You're a Marleyan soldier for heaven's sake not an unrestrained, unsupervised child left to play in a park.

Despite your clear inability to cushion and shield yourself from your Levi's stabbing gaze you attempt to appear as nonchalant as possible.

"I'll be going I just feel a little —" At first you had thought to fake you were ill but at the feeling of a sudden strike of pain you hold onto your stomach, the ache burns into your abdomen and without permission it travels higher up towards your ribs. "A little unwell." You manage to wheeze out. Hand placed onto a nearby cement wall your thought process is hasty speeding up by the second. Have they figured you out and had you poisoned? No, you barely ate anything today.

You hunch over feeling the bile crawl up your throat, on reflex you clamp your eyes shut not wishing to anger a superior by acting insolent and disposing of your dinner in the hallway. Shaky palms reach hesitantly for your lips and you force yourself to keep it in. Levi would commit a murder if you heaved and gagged letting it all out in front of him.

You motion towards the door trying to emphasize that you can handle yourself in the privacy of your room. Tears bite at the sides of your eyes and your vision is so blurred you can only make out the faint outline of the man who was just in front of you.

"Relax. I'll clean it." Your hair is brushed away from your face securely held back and you can't hold it in any longer, the acrid storm surges through your throat, you retch at the harsh sting it leaves behind. Breathing heavy, perturbed and anxious you gasp in all the air you can get.

"I knew you looked ill." His hands hold your jaw gently, the pads of his fingers are calloused but his touch remains soft. A tissue dabs at your mouth wiping away the excess untouched sick.

Just like the sick which surged through you less than a minute ago you feel something else entirely tear into you. You can't put a finger on it but it's dangerous for you to not feel contempt.

847, i.

Your heart accepts what your mind has been ignoring for months on end when Levi looks you square in the eyes after a heart wrenching expedition. The vacant look on his face is enough for the guilt to consume you whole but he doesn't know that. He doesn't know of your sins.

The wagon of corpses reeks of death and desperation. It's rotten and the smell is sickening. Forcibly you  stop yourself from feeling any more grief. The despair isn't yours to go through.

Your first ever personal loss outside of the walls and you've learnt Paradis is not home to demons. Cheeks burning in mortification you can't formulate any thoughts on your own accord, instead they continuously emerge in bursts and finally a single thought sticks out from the rest - Are you aiding in the destruction of innocent human life?

The both of you are sat on guard duty with the corpses, half of the team has been wiped out in one sweep. Your trembling hands don't seem to want to steady any time soon and you sit there with your guilty conscience strangling you slowly, your airflow is getting shallower. Shorter, quicker breaths leave you. The imaginary gash in your chest is bottomless, and your lungs push and pull in a power struggle.

Levi's coarse hands abruptly hold onto yours and the floodgates open again, he doesn't know what you've done to him, done to his soldiers, done to his people. If he knew who you really were, would things be different?

"This was out of your control."

Do you tell him?

The question sits in your mind for a while until you shake your head. He takes it the wrong way and think you're responding to him.

"This was not your fault." For the first time in months you've heard his voice crack under pressure.

"Pe- Petra she- I could have taken one for the team and died instead of her." All that remains of your dear friend is her blood soaked cloak. Her body was one of the few that had to be hauled away earlier to decrease the carriage's load.

The fabric still smells of Petra, smells of honey and chamomile and the simple soap offered at the base, but it still smells of her.

Firm hands grab your shoulders and Levi's fingers dig sorely into your flesh.

"Don't."

"But I- I didn't contribute as much as her and she has family who are alive." Hiccuping you try to bare with the fact that you'll wake up tomorrow and not see her preparing breakfast for everyone else. You know you could have propelled her out of the way just in time if you hadn't been so taken aback by the entire situation.

"You were her comrade. She made the choice to die for you."

You want to reach out, sob into his chest and yell that you regret it all, scream and tell him about the secret you've been hiding. A sorry excuse of a comrade you are to let her die on the battlefield not knowing your true identity. The tears roll down your cheeks and Levi feels his heart constrict and squeeze as he comprehends the lack of regard you have for your life. "It should have been me." Is repeated over and over again, your eyes are raw and bloodshot, the vicious wind sinks its teeth into you.

"Then die."

"If you're willing for her life to have no meaning. Die." The words he spits out are as cutting as the bitter wind. He feels cheated and you're finally able to come to your senses.

He's faired much worse but you doubt he's ever acted out the way you have in front of another person. In this never-ending void of darkness locking away the dull ache caused by deafening loss is the best choice for everyone.

Much like the night you had been sick he takes a grip of your jaw and directs your face towards his, this time he's not as gentle as before but you conclude that it's because he's drained, completely exhausted from the battle. The eyes are the windows to the soul but Levi's window panes are shattered, completely crushed by the weight of the constant burden he has to carry.

"I'm sorry." You croak out the apology. He grits his teeth because he doesn't want you to apologize but he doesn't voice out his opinion. As a substitute he presses his arms against you, the terribly raw panic is murdering you. Levi's gruff voice is a mixture of faux irritation but mutual understanding.

"Cry." He allows for your head to loll against his shoulder.

As the dark envelopes both you and him the scent of the dead only becomes more and more pungent, recalling fond memories of Petra and the others you know your heart settles on a decision before your mind does. You're a two timing back stabbing traitor for this. What you hated Zeke for you have become yourself.

Disloyal, unfaithful and fickle.

That day you place your loyalties with Paradis.

847, ii.

Levi's wiping down one of the kitchen tables, you're kneeled on the floor scrubbing vigorously. The others have already given up, panting they've left using the excuse of fetching water from a nearby well. Your back aches but you find cleaning reassuring and somewhat of a decent distraction.

"Why do you like to clean?" You're used to Levi asking you abrupt questions by now, after all the two of you have been acquainted for well over a year now. Through that year he's learnt about you and you about him. When in the midst of what looks to be humanity's final year's, twelve simple months is enough to form a bond worth a decade.

"I'm not good at a lot but I am good at cleaning."

"You know that's not true idiot." The tone of his voice indicates that your answer doesn't please him.

"But I do think I'm good at cleaning? Maybe not as good as you but I am half decent."

"Not that. You're good at much more than half the people I've ever met." He sneers, his footsteps edge towards you. "Purely being a good person is a talent these days."

You suppress a flinch because you aren't a good person at all. Neither are you that middle ground between good and bad. Rough around the edges and uneven, you're shards of glass ready to slash and hack away at him if Marley somehow lures you back.

The confession, if you could even call it that catches you by surprise and anger fills you. You almost want for him to not trust you and call out your bluff. It's a little unnatural how badly you want for him to realize the truth.

Your head turns up to stare at the man who's a few steps away from you. "Or am I just good at acting genuine?"

You don't even mean to snap at him and you don't even realize you have until you see his eyes widen and mouth part in imperceptible surprise. Biting your tongue your attention is diverted back to the wooden floor. Driving your washcloth into the crevices and dips of the floorboards you ignore Levi's leather shoes which now stand right in front of you.

"Are you questioning my judgement of character?"

Be born in Marley, That's what you had done, trained to destroy people you thought to be devilish entities, foolishly chose to grow attached to the so called enemy. Your mind lingers onto a specific thought and you're deathly afraid to be thinking it in the first place but there's no more avoiding it.

Falling deeply in love with Levi is your worst mistake to date.

"What I did. It was out of my control." you reply, voice hard.

"Not disclosing what it was?" He asks.

Your silence is his answer. Kneeling down to where you are he disarms you, the washcloth is taken out of your hands and he places it onto a table.

"You are a good person." His voice is brusque and he states it like it's a fact, something you should know. Hot tears threaten to spill over, he's stupidly naive for not rethinking that opinion of his. Lips thinned and eyes watering you don't know how to feel.

"Levi. I'm sure you'd like to think that but I am not."

"You love the members of the corps unconditionally I can see it in the way you look at them."

"Sometimes you look a little sad when you stare." The last sentence he adds in has your pulse racing. He's right, you often feel miserable thinking about how everyone would react knowing who you really are.

"I'm not interested in bad people." He sounds distant saying such warm words and it takes a moment for them to actually sink in. You don't quite believe you've heard him correctly. The dread sinks to the bottom of your stomach and the feelings you've buried at the back of your mind hit you like a tsunami. The thought of him feeling the same way for you, is agonizing.

"Stop being ridiculous." The uncertainty is killing the both of you.

"Loving you is not ridiculous, if you don't feel the same way you can say that and I'll step away. We'll be back to normal."

"No, no, no. You don't get it. You're just saying that." Your voice quivers and the intensity of this new revelation is too large for you to cope with.

"Why would, you," He begins, voice just above a whisper, "ever think that way?"

"Why would you even look twice at me?" You reply.

"Because I worry for you."

"You worry for everyone."

"I worry for you the most."

Instead of letting you respond to him this time he carries on speaking.

"We both know we feel the same."

You already knew you were in love with Levi, you didn’t need for him to tell you. You knew you were in love when you tried to memorize his facial features, you knew you were in love when his laughter was the cause of your laughter, you knew you were in love when you threw yourself in front of that abnormal for him.

That's when you begin to understand what all his signals meant. You now knew why he'd let you stare so intently, you now knew why he laughed particularly hard when it was you who had made a joke, you now knew why he scolded you and nearly broke down at the sight of your injured arm after that specific expedition.

You know it. He knows it. You both know what this will lead to.

But you still lunge onto his lap, you still press your wobbly lips against his. You still choose to surrender yourself to him and he still reacts by taking a hold of your shaky hands which lay on his chest. He envelopes them in his warm grasp. Slowly but gradually the ice thaws and dissolves. Heartbreak, anguish and suffering when one of you loses the other will be the end of your romance, you're sure of it. Hell, the both of you are in the middle of a war but your heart flames up thinking of all of the possibilities.

Perhaps it'll play out the one way you wish for it not to.

Could your ending be in betrayal?

848, i.

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded hus-"

"Cut the crap and kiss me." Levi's crude interruption isn't appreciated by Erwin but everyone knows Levi doesn't care all that much for formalities and hates being in the spotlight for too long.

Gripping him by the collar of his suit your lips are a centimetre away, he stops you tightening the hold he has on your waist. His lips gently press against your collarbone and his breath meanders towards the shell of your ear.

"Swear you won't die on me."

Gulping you look away apprehensively. You know you can't promise that.

“Oi, I’m expecting an answer.” His voice flickers slightly.

Forefinger holding your chin up you see your soon to be husband close to tears, he valiantly blinks them away. Levi has never been one to make his pain public and your heart twists in your chest as you realize just how much of a hold his feelings for you have over him.

"I can't promise that, you know it'll only hurt more." The strange bitter taste in your mouth won't let you comply with his request and by measuring his reaction you see his eyes cloud in an unidentifiable emotion, you're sure it's nothing positive.

"We may not have a happy ending Levi but we'll always have a happy middle."

Levi scoffs in derision, he has to think your attempt at being meaningful is ridiculous.

You lean into him and it's all so heart-wrenchingly familiar yet foreign. His body sags comprehending that not everything will go the way he wants it to. One of you is guaranteed to leave first.

Hands finding purchase in the cloth of his white dress shirt Levi doesn't cringe at you creasing the fabric as he usually does. He allows for you to call the shots this time, your lips brush faintly against his before you nosedive into him. No resistance is felt and he replies almost immediately. Everyone applauds as his fingertips press into the back of your skull and you find that this is all incredibly hideous. The innate disloyalty you feel, you throwing your entire life away for this man but you find yourself not caring. To hell with that miserable life crammed with sin.

Levi smiles against your mouth, you assume you're meant to magically smile back but you can't make yourself. It's uncomfortable relishing in the undeserved happiness knowing it won't last forever.

The world you live in isn't ideal nor is it forgiving.

Momentary joy is all an antagonist can hope for.

849, i.

Jean can’t take his eyes off the newly weds.

You’re cooing into your Levi’s ear gently, his cheeks flush scarlet at the feeling of your hot breath against his skin and he scolds you for having the gall to rile him up in public.

Jean sniggers finding some sort of odd delight from the interaction - he’s never seen the Captain this content and at ease.

849, ii.

You don't know why you've dragged yourself out of bed just to stare at your husband's face but you have, despite the toll life has had on him he seems sound for once. His breathing peaceful yours is anything but that. When it's dark the weight becomes heavier, your skin tingles and your throat burns aching for release.

Eyes blurring your hands shake reaching out for him but you can't find the courage to make contact. Nothing will ever warrant plaguing him even more with your existence.

The memories become increasingly bitter.

"If we make it out of this alive we'll have children and they'll look just like you."

"I want them to look like you." had been your reply.

Levi winced not seeming to like the idea.

"No, I want them to look like you. You're beautiful."

How wrong he was for thinking that.

You, beautiful? He'd stab himself ten times over if he knew just who exactly he had said those words to.

850, i.

Zeke had betrayed you after finding out who you were to Levi but you half expected that he would tell him the truth at some point regardless of that fact.

Tear stains travel through the mud and grime on your face, Levi's eyes are indifferent as he twists his wedding ring off his finger flinging it into the surrounding rubble.

Without your permission he yanks your arm forwards intending to take your matching ring away but you hold on digging your heels into the dirt beneath you.

"You disgusting bitch. Give me it."

You scream, high and awful, he continues jerking at your arm the muscle throbs crying out for him to stop but he doesn't and no one steps in to put a halt to any of it. Levi having had enough grabs at your neck ruthlessly. In any other circumstance he'd be labelled callous or cruel but everyone on the battle field shares a similar empathy for their Captain. Neither they or Levi had expected your disloyalty.

"I said give me the ring if you know what's good for you." His fingers slide around your neck, his seemingly low words cling onto the little respect he has left for you.

"No." Your defiance has his eyes hardening in and posture tensing. "I'm not handing it over."

Levi says nothing, he only holds onto your throat tighter, if he really keeps at  it your windpipe will be crushed in no time. You know he's holding out on purpose, he's still giving you a chance. He expects for you to stand your ground, say you never deceived Paradis, say something, anything to make him let go of you.  

"Marrying you... It just happened somehow. I know it was selfish of me." He squeezes harder. "I know it was. I'm sorry Levi." Gasping and breathless you clench and unclench your fists finding it too difficult to explain.

Your mouth opens, you want to tell him you haven't seduced him like he thinks you have, tell him you dropped that plan of yours long ago but then you falter at the last second.  It's typically hard to tell when Erwin's infuriated but it's painfully obvious when you make eye contact with him over Levi's trembling shoulders. It's enough to tell you to give up. Enough to tell you that you're beyond redemption, you've ran and hid long enough.

"Hand over your titan." Levi says nothing to Erwin's proposition, the hold he has on your neck loosens but his silence is sickening. It means he agrees.

This is fate's idea of a cruel joke.

But you agree, on the basis of one condition.

"Fine but-"

Levi cuts in, all regard for you devoid from his system.

"You're in no place to be making demands." He snarls, his patience quickly running thin.

However Erwin urges you to continue speaking taking you aback.

"If it's not too much maybe we can accommodate your final wish." Erwin had always been thoughtful in nature and you thank him for even bothering to show you a sliver of benevolence.

Everyone's looking, all eyes are on you. Some are blinking away tears, others are disgusted unable to stare at you for more than a few seconds at a time. Levi falls into the latter.

Brazen with not an ounce of shame you mention the ring again. "Let me keep it." Your left hand covers your right and underneath the flesh is the last symbol left of your union with Levi.

Whispers and murmurs orbit you, none of them are kind and Levi loses it.

His reflexes are paralyzing, he's back at it clawing your neck mercilessly but you don't scream or shriek as you did previously. You take it, you let him unload his frustration.

"Levi. Let it go for the sake of humanity." Erwin says pointedly. Irritation pricks him, he wants this over and done with and your rebelliousness doesn't look as if it'll be tamed any time soon unless you're given what you want.

Levi's face is crimson, the fresh blood from the expedition still steaming. "Y/N, I'll saw your arm off if I have to." But, you know he's already given into Erwin's orders when he throws you to the ground letting you crash and wheeze for breath.

850, ii.

Levi's been appointed to guard you for your final night alive. The room feels wistful as you think back wondering if the life you lived was respectable.

"Why did you stare at me when I slept? Did you think of killing me?" Half commanding and half pleading his voice cracks. He coughs attempting to cover it up.

You jolt not expecting the interaction at all and you're not the slightest bit surprised that he had seen you all those nights staring so deeply. He'd always been a light sleeper. You turn your head up hoping he's looking at you.

He isn't.

"I wanted our children to look like you. I think you're beautiful."

It's now his turn to recoil, only he does so in repulsion remembering the familiarity of those words. They had left his own lips not too long ago.

"I'd never have children with the likes of you." He sounds tense then.

You understand. No one would want to have children with someone as hated and as despicable as you.

"I know." You whisper faintly.

850, iii.

When Erwin's eyes glaze over unable to focus on anything in particular Levi assumes it's him growing used to the titan powers. What he doesn't expect is for his Commander to bang his head against the floor unrelenting screaming your name.

Pairs of hands move to stop him but he thrusts them aside wailing. Levi stresses trying to figure out what it is you could have done in the wake of your death.

But Erwin Smith. Courageous, brave Erwin Smith, who never cracked at loss of life for the sake of humanity, who always eloquently spoke to everyone around him at all times, finds himself slumping down to his knees and weeping for you.

The warm blood from his self inflicted assault still trickles down his nose, a tremor shakes through his entire body when he thinks of breaking the news to Levi.

The edge in Erwin’s voice grows dangerous.

"We made the wrong choice."

Erwin can't word it any better than that.

But Levi understands right away, he wishes he didn’t, he wishes he was ignorant enough not to.

Hange sticks an arm out aiming for his shoulder but he stumbles away nearly falling back into the floor not wanting to be touched by anyone.

He finds that he is not human enough to cry. It’s that or he’s not human at all without your presence.

854, i.

Levi has grown old without you, lived to see months and new seasons without you by his side. Over time his eyelids have become heavier, the corners of his mouth naturally droop and he remains perpetually somber.

Sometimes you visit him in his dreams, each time you make a silly comment about how his grey eye bags make him look like he’s been punched in the face. “Levi Ackerman, I swear if you don’t sleep soon!” You cushion the blow by whispering sweet nothings, reassuring him that you still think he’s beautiful. 

Occasionally you add in that you don’t blame him for the past, but those conversations only last for a few seconds at a time.

“I don’t blame you.” It always starts off with the exact same phrase. 

“I should have listened to you.” Levi’s tone is stern and uncompromising .

“Lev, I was never going to tell you to spare my life. You tried to listen to me, I could tell you wanted me to deny it.”

Levi refuses to answer you, he still thinks he’s at fault.

Not a day goes by where he doesn’t think of that ring. He regrets throwing it away recklessly into the rubble.

Some day he’ll return to Shiganshina to find it. The idea sounds laughable but he has to find a reason to smile as he fights for his life.

That is what Levi thinks as two set’s of jaws snap shut onto his legs, a flurry of red surrounds him. His throat constricts at the feeling of his thighs being ripped away from the rest of him.

“I tried.” He whimpers to no one in particular, eyes blank and losing meaning.

“I know Levi, I know.” The same voice from his dreams soothes him.

“Do not despair. Find me again in another world.” The biting wind adds in.

Levi’s eyelids flutter shut unable to do much else.

He’s unsure if he has the courage to face you again in another lifetime.

[griffintail]

I had this idea, I dunno if it’s dumb or not, but I figured if anyone knew it would be you! Y’know, cause you seem like you know way more than me about all these mcyt guys and gals? Anyways, I saw that a lot of people headcanon that Shlatt was Tubbo’s dad, and seeing all those dad!Shlatt AUs gave me an idea:

What if after Shlatt’s dead, after things have settled, after Tubbo becomes president and spends most of his time cleaning up the messes and mistakes Shlatt left behind- he discovers he wasn’t Shlatt’s only child. He finds handwritten letters in Shlatt’s files from a distant village, all of them fairly recent, asking him for child support money, or asking him to take “his mistake” with him. But the last letter Tubbo finds is a typed one informing Shlatt that the woman who sent all the previous letters has died, and that he has 1 month to come collect his child, or they’ll become a ward of the state; it’s been roughly 2 and a half weeks since that letter arrived. How would Tubbo react to all of this, and more importantly, would he take on the responsibility of becoming his new sibling’s guardian?

I don’t know how I became the person to come to for this lol. I hope you enjoy!

The Girl with the Horns

Pairings: Brother! Tubbo x Child! F! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of emotional abuse, Implied Buillying, Swearing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        Tubbo looked up the old White House building, taking a deep breath before going in. Inside, he immediately scrunched up his nose at the familiar smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

        “Damn it, dad.” He muttered under his breath before starting to clean up the building.

        He said he’d clean the building out himself as his father was the one who trashed it and now was that day. A lot of his presidency was cleaning up Schlatt’s mistakes before he even ran the rest of his new country. He sighed as he put another empty bottle in a trash bag. Schlatt had really lost it running things.

        Slowly but surely, Tubbo was able to get the White House to a much cleaner state. He was now in the main office and was searching the drawers for his father's inevitable “secret” booze stashes when he found some handwritten letters tucked in the very back of the drawer. Frowning, Tubbo took them out and saw them all addressed to Schlatt.

        Sitting down, Tubbo read the letter on top and his eyes went wide, back going straight as he reread the words before him.

        I want money for this child you helped bring into this world!

        A child?

        The rest of the letter was talking about asking for child support and Tubbo was floored. Quickly, he read the next letter and it was much of the same, demanding Schlatt to take responsibility.

        “Holy shit…” Tubbo muttered. “I got��I got a sibling?”

        He made his way through the rest of the letters, his heart clenching when the woman writing the letters called his poor sibling a mistake or made stabs at Schlatt.

        Then the last letter was a lot more formal. It was stamped with an official seal and dated. Schlatt had opened it as told by the broken seal but had obviously also put the letter back without a care after reading. Tubbo’s breath hitched as he read the letter though.

          Dear Mr. Jschlatt:

        We are sorry to inform you Miss Trentha has passed in an accident.

        Behind, she has left a five-year-old (Y/N), of which in our records has your name on her birth papers. We will give you a month’s time to make a decision; after, we will have no choice but to send (Y/N) to become a ward of the state.

                Tubbo quickly looked at the date of when the letter was sent.

        “Two and a half weeks!” Tubbo exclaimed as he jumped up. “Shit! What should I do?”

        He looked around the office he had spent time cleaning trying to process everything at once, words failing him. In a few short moments, he had found out he wasn’t an only child, that Schlatt hadn’t even looked back at this girl or her horrible mother, and that the sibling he just found out about was going to become a ward of the state! Schlatt had at least been kind enough to Tubbo to let Philza raise him but this child going into the adoption system…

        “I-I got to run L’Manberg. There’s so much to do.” Tubbo ran a hand through his hair as he panicked.

        But then Tommy’s words echoed in his head.

        You can’t become the next Schlatt.

        Schlatt was obviously going to let this child fend for themselves, Tubbo couldn’t be his father. He had to at least meet them. With a new will, he gathered around his friends, and with reassurances that they had L’Manberg covered, Tubbo set off on a horse to the village. It was a good three-day journey, so he’d only have roughly a week left to make his decision of what he was going to do.

        Coming to the village, Tubbo took a deep breath as he stared at it. What was she going to be like? She probably didn’t have the best raising based on the letters that the mother sent. Tying up the horse outside the main hall, Tubbo went in, going through the various processes to prove that he was indeed Jschlatt’s child and proving that his father was dead.

        After, they took Tubbo to a home where a bunch of children were outside playing but there was one that stood out among them and it wasn’t because she was sitting alone. It was because she had tiny horns on top of her head that were just starting to come in. Tubbo put a hand on his horns that were just starting to curl without thinking.

        “That’s (Y/N).” The man that led him here nodded to the little girl.

        “She’s five, right?” Tubbo asked.

        “Yes. She’s not very talkative, but you can introduce yourself to her.”

        Tubbo had few guesses why she didn’t want to talk. He went over, a few of the other kids were pointing at him. (Y/N) was using a stick to push images in the dirt, looking up when a shadow got in the way of the sun. Tubbo smiled when he saw her surprise when she looked up at him, he sitting next to her, wearing his casual wear rather than his suit.

        “Hi. I’m Tubbo.” He introduced himself to her.

        (Y/N) was silent as she stared obviously at his horns. “You have horns…”

        “Yeah, I do. I’m a ram just like you.”

        “Really?” She met his eyes now.

        “Mhm. I, uh, I actually knew your dad because he was my dad.”

        She shifted as she looked back at the ground. “Daddy was a bad man.”

        Tubbo winced, putting a hand on his neck. “Why do you say that?”

        “Mommy use to say that.”

        “Ah. Well…dad wasn’t the greatest, I agree. It wasn’t nice for him to leave you alone.”

        The little girl was silent and Tubbo tried to think of a subject change.

        “Do you like drawing?”

        She nodded. “Mommy wouldn’t let me use paper but I like drawing in the dirt.”

        “Oh…do you…have any friends?”

        She put a hand on one of her little horns and he immediately understood.

        “I get it.” He smiled gently, putting a hand on his horn. “I didn’t have a lot of friends until I met my best friend Tommy. I’m sure you will find some friends.”

        His heart melted as she gave him her first small smile. “I hope so.”

        He sat with her just talking away, the time passing so fast without either of them knowing as they talked. He felt like he learned so much but so little about her; yet, he loved every moment sitting with her. She had to go back with the other children of the orphanage but within a few hours, Tubbo made up his mind. He couldn’t leave this little girl with everyone else; he’d take her back to L’Manberg.

        So, in the morning, Tubbo put on his suit to be professional and he did the paperwork before waiting for them to bring (Y/N). (Y/N) came in timidly and Tubbo smiled gently as he crouched in front of her.

        “Hey, so, I don’t want to leave without you, would you like to come with me? I can introduce you to a few of my good friends.”

        “…They’re all nice like you, right?”

        He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, a few of them are pretty nice.”

        She looked around but nodded. “Ok.”

        He grinned as he stood up. “Then I’m going to take you back to my home.”

        They got the few things that she owned and Tubbo put them on the horse. After, Tubbo changed into more appropriate riding clothes before getting on with (Y/N).

        “Alright, here we go.” He muttered before getting the horse to go.

        Off they went to L’Manberg, Tubbo making sure they had shelter each night. It was a bit stressful for Tubbo on these few days. He had gotten used to not eating every day but he had to remember now to make sure (Y/N) ate. He also had to remember this was boring as hell for her so he tried his best to make little games as they galloped along. There was a point he went off on a bee tangent for half an hour after spotting one and pouted to himself when he saw (Y/N) had fallen asleep against him but he kept an arm wrapped around her so she didn’t fall off.

        As he got back to L’Manberg, he huffed as he saw Tommy and Fundy arguing as Quackity was laughing, Ranboo standing to the side awkwardly. Yeah, that’s how he expected his cabinet to act with him gone. He tied up his horse, grabbing (Y/N)’s things before taking her hand as he walked over to them. As the pair went over, (Y/N) hide behind him shyly.

        “Guys!” Tubbo called.

        “Tubbo! Tell this furry bitch—” Tommy started.

        “Oh, fuck off Tommy!” Fundy shouted back.

        They started having another go.

        “GUYS!” Tubbo shouted, making (Y/N) jump with the rest of the group. “I have someone for you to meet, so can you shut it?”

        Tommy spotted the little girl peeking out from behind Tubbo, noticing the horns first.

        “Holy shit, she has horns like yours.” Tommy went around Tubbo.

        “Yeah, this is (Y/N), she’s my little sister.”

        “A sister?!” Tommy looked at Tubbo surprised.

        Tubbo nodded. “I adopted her.”

        “I’m sorry?”

        “It’s a long story but I’m back and I’m got to bring her to my house,” Tubbo told them before walking off, feeling the little girl squeeze his hand tighter, probably getting overwhelmed.

        They got to Tubbo’s house and he looked around.

        “Er…You can have my room. I’ll need to make you a room.” He smiled at her.

        “Ok…thank you.”

        He patted her head between her horns. “I couldn’t leave you behind sis. Let’s get you settled in and I can make us some steak. Sound good?”

        She nodded.

        Tubbo knew it would be stressful learning to take care of another human while he had to run a nation but he had his friends to help him. He hoped he could do all this right.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 305: Worst Intervention Ever

Previously on BnHA: Shinomori, whose name took me an entire week to memorize, was all, “nice to meet you Deku, I’m ten feet tall, do you want to know how I died?” and without waiting for an answer explained that he kicked it from old age at forty thanks to good ol’ OFA. Deku was all “wait a minute, then how come All Might, who’s fifty-five and is definitely dyeing his gray hair, is still alive?” First and Shino were all, “we really have no fucking clue but we think it’s cuz he’s quirkless, JUST LIKE YOU!” So basically, since quirkless people don’t exactly grow on trees these days, Deku is probably going to be the last user of OFA. The chapter ended with Nana being all, “psst, Deku, about my grandson. Uh, can you kill him?” which is sure to lead to a very interesting conversation this week.

Today on BnHA: Nana And The Gang are all “so, Deku, how can we put this delicately. The thing is, we’re pretty sure that AFO really fucked my grandson up, so on the off chance you can’t save him, how would you feel about, you know... [throat slitting gesture].” Deku is all “idk you guys, I kinda feel like he’s really just a traumatized child at heart and he’s in a lot of pain and stuff and so I should try to help him.” The Vestiges are all “BUT WHAT IF YOU CAN’T” and Deku is all “BUT I WANT TO TRY, DAMMIT” and the Vestiges are all “well when you put it that way, we, uh, were just testing you, so congrats, you passed!” The chapter ends with First being all, “ANYWAY SO WHY DON’T YOU TWO SHY BOYS STANDING OVER THERE IN THE SHADOWS COME SAY HELLO” before we CUT AWAY FOR ANOTHER WEEK, goddammit.

seriously, Nana

just... have you met Deku?? look, if you really want Tomura dead, just sic him on the U.A. first years and tell Shouto and Honenuki that it’s a training exercise

oh my god lmao

we’re too far away to see Nana’s face here so I will just assume that she turned and is staring DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA for this one line lmao. “I just wanted to clarify in case anyone felt inclined to take my dialogue out of context and spend an entire week complaining about it”

oh my god?! are you all purposely trying to make me sad??

someone stop me before I launch into an impromptu rant about all my Tomura feels. WHY IS NOBODY STOPPING ME. oh my god but yes, exactly. he’s just in pain all the time. this is exactly why I think Tomura has such high redemption potential even though so far he seems to lack so many of the redemption arc essentials such as feeling remorse, wanting to change, and taking responsibility for his actions. the reason why I’m willing to overlook all that in his case is because Tomura has essentially had zero agency his entire life. AFO molded him into a killer by making sure he was in constant mental agony, and making it so that the only thing that even slightly relieved that agony was killing peeps. like, please don’t think I’m making excuses for him or anything, but if you take a child and manipulate their existence to make it virtually impossible for that child to grow up as anything other than a killer, and basically never give him the chance to be anything else, then no shit he’s gonna be a killer?? he’s basically never had the choice not to be. it’s never been an option for him. anyways I feel like I am EXPLAINING MYSELF SO BADLY but nonetheless I am prepared to die on this hill

anyway so now Nana is all “that’s a rhetorical question btw because Our Hearts And Minds Are One so we can feel everything you feel bro.” so yeah, that’s interesting

now Banjou is getting started on the “let’s try and talk Deku out of wanting to save Tomura because it’s insane” part of their OFA Mystical Space Void Reunion agenda

look, Banjou, I feel you, I really do. you guys don’t think it’s realistic that Deku can defeat Tomura without killing him. so if it’s a choice between killing Tomura vs letting Deku and everyone else in the entire world die, then duh, you think Deku should kill him. I get it! and if this were a real life mass murderer I’d totally agree with you. but the problem is that this isn’t real life, this is a sympathetic shounen villain with a tragic past who might as well have FUTURE REDEMPTION ARC RECEIPIENT stamped on his forehead at this point

so First is all “look, there’s absolutely no doubt my brother has fucked this kid up good and proper by now”, which, again, fair

though, that’s kind of exactly my point though. everything that Tomura is, everything he’s done, he’s done because of AFO. AFO has so effectively shaped his personality and his worldview by this point that it’s all but impossible to penetrate that. he’s AFO’s puppet. but the problem is that rather than treating him like a victim, you all are treating him like a casualty. like he’s already a lost cause. but good luck trying to convince Deku of that

WHOA WHAT, RANDOM SUPER-IMPORTANT AND BIZARRELY UNRELATED EXPOSITION DROPPED IN JUST LIKE THAT??

way to still not reveal Sixth’s name, btw. THE PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW, DAMMIT. but also so this confirms something we basically already knew already, which is that not even AFO can steal OFA. it literally can’t be taken away by anyone unless the owner wills it. SO SUCK ON THAT AFO YOU EGG

(ETA: so I have no idea why this was omitted from this translation, but apparently the Sixth’s name was revealed as “En”, which is obviously not his full name but at least it’s something. also he most likely has a fire or smoke-related quirk based on the kanji used, 煙.)

so Banjou is saying that Deku’s “lack of an iron will” could be a disadvantage against AFO. hahaha what?? Midoriya “I’ll break all of my bones without blinking an eye just to protect someone” Izuku lacks an iron will? do tell

he says this is going to be a test of Deku’s determination. well yeah, no shit. but just not in the way you guys think

OH HELLO AGAIN

darker hair again here! but I don’t trust the contrast in these scans at all after last week. his coveralls are way darker than they looked before too, and you can clearly see he’s standing in the shadows now

(ETA: yep, once again the raw shows that his hair is considerably lighter than what’s shown in these scans here. although there’s no mistaking now that his hair is consistently being colored in this slightly darker shade, and it’s not just the lighting.)

anyways lol First was saying something about how AFO can’t steal OFA, and they’ve spent all this time cultivating it as the ultimate weapon against AFO, and blah blah blah. go on then, keep lecturing

NANA GODDAMMIT NONE OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT

girl what?? you did everything in your power to protect your family, and AFO, fucked up man that he is, targeted them anyway. there is one person and one person only to blame for what’s happened to Tomura, and that potato-faced asshole needs a good kick in the balls

NANA GODDAMMIT DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE

SO HELP ME GOD!! I WILL GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST HUG YOU’VE EVER HAD!! THAT IS A THREAT

so now Nana is all “I’m just going to call my grandson a Thing to ensure that fandom has only the freshest, grass-fed no-hormones-added discourse this week”

I don’t even need to drop into the tags to know exactly which specific people are going to respond to this, and what kind of posts they are going to write lmao. everyone’s all caught up in the “that thing”, and meanwhile I’m over here completely hung up on this “nay” that’s appeared out of NOWHERE you guys. look at that. she really said “NAY”

Nana, my love, my dearest, I feel you girl I really do. but he’s not an unforgivable manifestation of pure evil, Deku is exactly right actually, he’s a boy in pain. you guys need to stop questioning Deku’s shounen protagonist instincts here and just let him work his sparkly magic. “let’s try and convince Midoriya Fucking Izuku that he can’t save someone” is a plan that is NEVER going to turn out well you guys

“DEKU GODDAMMIT WHAT IF WE CAN’T SAVE HIM” lmao it’s like an intervention

“DAMMIT DEKU JUST ADMIT YOU HAVE A SAVING PEOPLE PROBLEM!”

RED ALERT IT’S ANOTHER CLOSE-UP OF THE BACK OF MISTER TWO BON CLAY’S HEAD OMG

(ETA: I was too distracted with freaking out about Two and Three to really appreciate how ridiculously handsome First looks in this panel. but on my second readthrough it stood out so much that I had to go back and add an extra bullet point just to talk about how hot he is. look at him. wtf.)

THAT IS DEFINITELY AN UNDERCUT. THE PLOT THICKENSSSS. also those are fucking exhaust vents on Mister Three’s neck. MISTER THREE COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE RELATED TO THE IIDAS, PLEASE TELL ME YOUR SECRETS I’M DYING OVER HERE

so now Deku is launching into what will undoubtedly be a “saving people problems require SAVING PEOPLE SOLUTIONS” heroic counter-speech!

I mean, they can already feel the “lol nah I’m gonna try and save him” feelings running through him lol. ~OuR hEaRtS aNd MiNdS aRe CoNnEcTeD~ and all that. this is just a formality, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love a good shounen protag speech

oh wait hold up, do you mean to tell me that the whole “hearts and minds are connected” thing I was just mocking just a paragraph ago actually allowed Deku to feel what Tomura was feeling?? like literally feel it??

YET AGAIN these Tomura feels are pounding on my front door you guys?? they just will not quit?? people my house is already full of feels, does it look like I need you to sell me any more of them?? -- what do you mean, they’re free??

AW YISS THAT’S IT DEKU. THAT’S SOME GOOD SPEECH RIGHT THERE

I appreciate the contrast here between the Douchebag Triumvirate of Overhaul, Muscular, and Stain versus the Misguided Twosome of Gentle and La Brava. never let it be said that Deku doesn’t know the difference between a redeemable villain and an unredeemable one

OH NO -- OH MY GOD

someone please help me I need directions to the OFA Spooky Galactic Nebula Realm in this fictional Japanese manga land. it’s not on google maps. I need to give these two babies a big hug and wrap them up in a blanket and treat them to some McDonalds Happy Meals please help

other things: (1) ENDEAVOR CHILLING OUT IN DEKU’S “PEOPLE I HOLD DEAR” PANEL LMAO NEON DISCOURSE EXTRAVAGANZA, (2) “ONE FOR ALL IS A POWER TO SAVE, NOT TO KILL” I’M ABOUT TO CRY DEKU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH HOW IS IT EVEN POSSIBLE TO FEEL ALL THIS LOVE, (3) [SLAMS HANDS ON TABLE] THERE’S YOUR MOTHERFUCKING IRON WILL!!!!!!!! -- I’m sorry, please don’t call security, I’ll be good

I just randomly remembered that Deku is still saying all of this in his muffled “FMMPHHMMPHMM” voice and I’m somehow cracking up lol. so actually it’s a very good thing Their Hearts And Minds Are Connected, otherwise they’d no doubt be all, “...what?”

(ETA: so I completely missed this on account of it literally not being visible in the scan at all, but in the raw you can clearly see Baby Kacchan and Baby Shouto fanboying over All Might in two of these panels, and excuse me, ma’am??

thank you very much Deku for including them in your montage, particularly since you’ve never seen Baby Shouto before lol. amazingly accurate image you managed to conjure up, all things considered.)

SDKFJLSKHG -- AS IF ON CUE???

HE’S SO ADORABLE HELP?? Trippy Space All Might looks like he’s about to cry, and First is all “don’t crack a smile... you have to be Firm and Serious here... dammit, don’t smile” omg

anyways! YOU GO DEKU. “MY QUIRK MY RULES, BITCHES” damn, son

KLJLKKHLG TRIPPY SPACE ALL MIGHT LITERALLY ACTUALLY IS CRYING ALL MIGHT HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

“I JUST... [CLENCHES FIST] REALLY LOVE SAVING PEOPLE” FUCKING HELL LMAO THIS IS THE WORST INTERVENTION OF ALL TIME

Deku is literally all “sure, maybe I’ll have to kill him, but have you guys also considered, MAYBE NOT??” it’s no use Nana he’s too powerful

LMAO FIRST

“like I’ve been saying this whole time, you should definitely try saving Shigaraki Tomura.” “but, uh... First, didn’t you just -- ” “shut up”

(ETA: clearly it’s not just his brother who inherited those smooth-talking genes.)

so now Deku has turned back into a sixteen year old and his clothes have gone missing again. just OFA things

dskljdlsklgk

yes... sure... “testing” you...

HEY

FIRST OF ALL, DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI YOU MADE NANA CRY. even if I’m pretty sure they’re actually tears of happiness/relief. and SECOND OF ALL, “TELL MY BOYFRIEND I SAID HI” DJSKDLKJJL ANYWAY MAYBE GRAN, NANA, AND MR. SHIMURA WERE IN A THROUPLE

[SCREAMS]

WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE?? WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE!!!!!

(ETA: and two-to-one odds that we cut away to some other scene once they finally start to turn around next week. I’M CALLING IT NOW. giving myself a week to brace myself for the rage.)

fucking hell. well if anyone needs me I will be adding Horikoshi fucking Kouhei to the list of irredeemable villains, peace

[stilldancewithyou]

hello I was the anon who left you the (4/4) messages about dreading Conrad slander haha anyways just wanted to say I love your response! Especially the part about how the different loves belly has with the boys is like art/you’re supposed to feel something!! that’s how I felt reading the books :) anyways just wanted to come back and ask how you felt about this love at the end of s1 to me it’s THEE belly Conrad song but more so for book three? For me I feel like wildest dreams playing there would’ve been so fitting especially knowing what happens in the very next book and it fits with the misunderstood side of Conrad that everyone has!! (Although Tbh I feel like JH mixed a lot of the entire series esp book 3 into the first season) nonetheless I hope they can reuse this love for s3 (if we get book3 in s3) bc it’s just so perfect for them 🥹 side note: I wish the BC ending had better build up bc they didn’t really address when (or even “if” I suppose since they could go that route) she left jere it was just kinda sudden that she was with Conrad lol I mean I’m happy as a BC shipper but the pacing was whack in that last episode I felt like the show just needed like one more or maybe just an extra 10 mins to give us a bit more build up to the final scene of them

hi! I'm so glad you checked back in! 😊

um yes, I loved that This Love played over that final scene for them! Especially the part of the song that starts playing- "tossing, turning struggled through the night with someone new, and I could go on and on...lantern burning flickered in my mind, only you, but you were still gone...been losing grip on sinking ships, you showed up just in time" can we take a moment to appreciate how that last line about losing grip and you showed up just in time is perfect for Conrad in that moment??? And "struggled through the night with someone new" flawless song choice. But I also love how it works with the entire relationship and journey through all of the books! The way they each let the other go but always find their way back to each other...I love it. Also the lyrics "when you're young you just run but you come back to what you need" and "this love is glowing in the dark" I just love for Belly and Conrad. I think it was the perfect song for that moment! Although I was still recovering from The Way I Loved You and everyone crying a scene prior so the first watch through of it I was going through it by the time This Love came on lol. I agree it would be so nice to see that song or Lover be used again later on. Like a reprise.

In regards to the last scene pacing-wise...I agree. It was wack af. I loved it, I loved how similar it was to that moment in the book and I was thrilled they ended up together but it was weird. Like they just slapped it on. We went from crying and the dinner scene to the next morning on the beach. I at least wanted to see her walking out there, or being asked to go look for him, and some kind of conversation or knowing shared look between her and Jeremiah. something to wrap it and make it make more sense. In the book she goes out there looking for him because after spending the night with Jere and THAT scene with Conrad as she leaves Jere's room, they don't know where Conrad is and she immediately knows where to find him, and I would have loved to see that on screen. I think she wasn't officially dating Jere (she told Steven something about deciding who she dates, but she and Jeremiah never used that word. and there was a huge emphasis on Steven and Shayla having a big convo about being exclusive and how the "cheating" wasn't really cheating bc of that, I'm convinced the point of that was to show they're the only ones who are *actually* dating). And the final scene was definitely the morning after the ball, the sun was out and Conrad was still in his suit although Belly had changed, it reminded me of the scene at the end of the first episode when she talked to him on the beach in the morning and told him he can't smoke if she can't smoke (and then she missed Cam's boat bc of that!!!). I really liked that parallel. The idea that they both know to find each other on the beach.

Idk how a conversation between Belly and Jeremiah would have looked after the ball and all of THAT though..."hey jere, thanks for being my escort, I appreciate and had a great time even though you only did the escort dance you (apparently) choreographed and then disappeared at the part that was most important to me, leaving me feeling humiliated in front of everyone and thankfully Conrad stepped in to save the day but then you reappeared and punched your brother humiliating the entire family in front of everyone at the ball so...yeah it was great and all but I will always be in love with Conrad" it's gonna be sooo awkward whenever it does happen in s2 and I am here for the drama.

ALSO ALSO- I have always loved the idea of Wildest Dreams for them and when Jenny first teased Taylor Swift songs in the show I was convinced it was that one! "He's so tall and handsome as hell, he's so bad but he does it so well" are you kidding me??? that was written for Conrad. It would so perfectly heartbreaking if they play Wildest Dreams over the scene at the end of the third book where Conrad is giving her the necklace and saying goodbye, as he kisses her on the cheek and leaves...it would really be beautiful for that moment as the audience is left to wonder for a few minutes if this is it between them, if they'll see each other again. @ Jenny Han are you taking notes????