#tell me its a waste motherfucker

[vehemourn]

went to post this on twitter but i didnt wanna get banned . crazy that u can scrape my entire lifes work and i cant even tell u to die over it <3

[eldritchqueerture]

.

[samwisefamgee]

haven't done anything on Sunday for the past two fucking months because a friend has made plans for all of us then canceled them the day of or before every. fucking. time.

[borealalice]

Valentino finds him crouched against the wall of the motorhome that they share with Honda on the other side, still seething with white hot rage after yelling at Márquez. Screaming at him had done nothing to get the anger out of his system, and then he’d heard Marc telling the press he wasn’t even going to bother discussing Marco’s outburst, and now he’s trying very hard to calm down before he goes to congratulate Pecco. His brother doesn’t deserve that kind of negativity, and right now, Marco wants to kill somebody.

Vale crouches in front of him, one of his big hands finding the curls on the back of Marco’s head. “Ben detto” he murmurs softly. “It’s not your fault, he clearly hasn’t changed at all.”

Marco scrapes his hands over his face, wincing at his nose. “He didn’t even react when I screamed at him. Just stared, and then told someone else to remove me from his motorhome.” His fists clench. “And then he says he’s not going to waste time discussing me! Figlio de puttana!”

Vale ruffles his hair. “I’ve been telling you, he’s a crazy motherfucker. He’ll never learn.”

“Hey!” A voice he doesn’t recognize rings out on the other side of the wall.

“Hey, man, ¿qué pasa?.” That one, he’d know anywhere.

“Classy move out there today, completely sidestepping the questions.” It’s not a driver. Someone from the Honda team, probably.

Márquez snorts. “Bezzecchi is what, 23?” He must be changing out of his leathers. They’ve clearly not realised that there’s someone left on the motorhome next door, because they’re making no effort to lower their voices to avoid being heard through the paper-thin walls.

“24, I think.” Says the other voice. He’s almost 25, actually. He rolls his eyes at Vale. What does it matter that he’s young? He has half a mind to go back in there and yell at him some more. Fuck him. Youth does not mean he’s not legitimate competition, or a good driver.

“Eh, still barely an adult.” Márquez again. “Everybody is a fucking idiot in their twenties, but I’m no longer in my twenties. I know how this circus works now, and what would happen if I said anything personal about him to the press. I don’t mind giving my opinion on what he’s done on the race, or what I think he��s done on the race, but anything beyond that is a no, even if he’s a dickhead.” He pauses. Then adds, softer. “Actually, I don’t think he’s a dickhead. He’s just young, and we have both heard everything he said today before, and we both know they’re not his words. I can’t fault the kid for following a god blindly, I used to do it too.”

The world tilts three degrees on its axis. Valentino’s face goes white as a sheet.

“Look at you. Is this what maturity looks like?”

Márquez’s laugh sounds bitter. “I already said it in my documentary, but I don’t wish what Valentino put me through at 22 on anybody. 22 is a stupid age. You think you’re immortal, but you also think you’ll die if you don’t win this championship. Or not die, but the team will drop you if you stop performing, which is just as bad. There’s always someone behind you waiting to get on your bike, if you can’t stay on it. Your body can recover from almost everything, but the press and the team are already counting down the seconds until it gives out. It's an environment where it’s almost impossible to make good decisions, especially in the middle of a race where you’re going 300km/h, your only thought is that you have to be 1st, and you have 2 milliseconds to see and react to anything.” Something opens on the other side of the wall.

“You must still be angry at him. Especially after everything you heard today.”

There’s no need to clarify who “him” is. It’s clearly not Marco.

Something closes. “I’m not even angry anymore, more like. Disappointed? Disappointed with Valentino, because he was supposed to be my friend but he thought badly enough of me to believe that I’d do all those things he accused me of. Didn’t even let me explain. But also disappointed in myself, because it really is the worst feeling when you are just being yourself and your idol, friend, favourite person” - Marco can’t look at Valentino - “in the world publicly says that makes you a danger for everyone and poison for the sport you have dedicated your life to. And suddenly everybody despises you. You don’t just shrug something like that off, no matter how hard I’ve tried to pretend I have.”

There’s a metallic thunk, like someone dropping a bag on a bench.

“I can only be myself. I’ve never learned to be any other way, and I will never play mind games. I want to keep winning until I physically can’t anymore, and then retire and be done with all of this.”

“Are you going to set up your own training academy?” Suggests the other man, timidly.

There’s a meaningful pause.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the documentary, but only two drivers came to see me before I got the surgery. A surgery that involved re-breaking my arm on several points and rotating the bone. There was a chance I might never come back to motogp, and most people didn’t care, not even my own teammate. And even younger drivers like Bezzecchi clearly believe everything that has been said of me, after all these years and after riding with me. I don’t think I will have any kind of legacy other than a number of championships and a bad reputation for my riding style. And a lot of scars and metal in my body. I don't think mentoring will ever be a possibility. I don’t think I want to teach anyone how to ride like me, when this is what it gets you.”

Marco can feel his own face drain of blood. There’s no emotion to Márquez's voice. He’s clearly thought this over plenty. It sounds practised, rehearsed, and utterly sincere.

“You still said very nice things about Rossi in a recent video, even after all of this.” 

“I told the truth.” Comes Márquez’s response. “They ask what I think about him as a driver, and that has never changed. He’s the best. Always the best.”

He sounds as certain as anything. The sky is blue, the sun is yellow, and Valentino Rossi is still the best ever MotoGP driver in Marc Márquez’s world.

Valentino’s face is doing something so raw that Marco feels filthy when he hazards a look. He averts his eyes again. 

“As I said, I’m not even mad. I would be happy if he decided to stop hating me one of these days. I still like Valentino. I think what he’s done with the academy is great, the way he’s basically adopted those kids. I try not to think much about him other than that.”

He sounds wistful, Marco realises, like part of him wishes he could have been one more of them at the ranch. Like part of him envies that they got that with Vale.

“Except when one of said kids goes to your motorhome to yell at you.”

Marc snorts again. “Hm, maybe he should have taught them better manners, that’s true. But he’s Valentino Rossi. We wouldn’t like him half as much if he had manners.” And with that, the voices finally fade, Márquez clearly done changing. And then it’s just him and Valentino, still crouched on the floor on the other side of the wall.

Valentino looks ill. Properly green, and Marco understands, because he’s feeling queasy himself when he thinks of everything he’d yelled at Marc only hours earlier, everything he has said about him loud enough for everyone to hear. 

Valentino has approximately eight years of that.

God help them both.

[aquaquadrant]

I’m having thoughts again (the horror). You may have answered this before and I just can’t remember or find it buuuuuut

Is/was there ever a dragon in Hels? If there was could they spawn it in again or is she just dead?

“a dragon?” the player huffs a laugh, giving you an odd look. “you know dragons aren’t real, right? it’s just fantasy shit, like the sun and moon.” they shrug. “anyway, uh, if- if you’re not gonna buy somethin’ then stop wasting my fucking time and get the hell out.”

~*~

“ah, i see you’re a fellow intellectual.” the player nods sagely. “data analysis has found plenty of evidence supporting the existence of an ‘end dragon’, through communicator codes such as ID tags for items called ‘dragon’s breath,’ ‘dragon head’, and ‘dragon egg’, not to mention the achievement ‘free the end’, which is supposedly earned after slaying this dragon. so while we can only extrapolate so much from nonfunctional comm commands, i’d say the idea of a dragon existing in other worlds is quite substantiated.”

they pause.

“did hels ever have one? well, that’s the question, isn’t it. while the existence of glitched end chunks throughout hels has been proven on multiple occasions, no one’s ever found an end island with the obsidian pillars required to spawn and sustain a dragon. of course, it’s possible someone found it long ago and destroyed it, or perhaps no one’s found it yet, or perhaps it exists in a different form entirely. if you look at how biomes spawn in hels…”

~*~

“what, hels ain’t bad enough for you as it is?” the player wheezes, shaking their head. “kid, if there’s a dragon in hels, you’re better off if you never meet it. we got enough problems without throwin’ a damned dragon into the mix, ya hear?”

~*~

“never heard of such a thing. seems like nonsense.” the player hefts their axe onto their shoulder. “now, move along before i kill you.”

~*~

“there was a dragon in hels, yeah,” the player says nonchalantly. “this old player took me in when i was a kid, used to tell me stories. i mean, he never saw it. it was more of a ‘i know this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who heard that someone saw it’ kinda deal… well? do you wanna hear it or not?”

they smirk.

“… that’s what i thought. so yeah, it was this massive red dragon- or uh, maybe it was like orange with red flames on its scales, fucking sick, right- with huge teeth and insane fire breath and… actually, it might’ve been acid? or poison? fuck, whatever, the point is that the thing was nasty, alright, it used to swoop down on the early settlements and mow those motherfuckers down, eating players- or, wait, i think maybe it would just throw them? uh, i dunno how but- wait, where you goin’? hey, this is valuable information, you know! … fine, whatever, asshole.”

~*~

“how the hel should i know?” the player demands, folding their arms. “this world’s infinite and old as balls, and we don’t exactly have a consistent method of widespread information distribution. someone could’ve killed it yesterday and i’d have no fucking clue.”

~*~

“yeah, there was.” the player nods. “it was before my time, but i heard our admin killed it. whoever the fuck they were… makes no difference to me, but it’s a cool thought, right?”

~*~

“hm. been a long time since someone asked me that.” the player leans forward, eyes flickering in the firelight. their gaze is haunted. “are you sure you wanna know?”

they pause.

“… alright, then.”

“now, this was back in the early days of hels, long enough ago that some of the oldest players still remembered havin’ an admin. we didn’t even know ‘bout the end chunks. then one day, there was this sound. every player in the world heard it, no matter where they were. it was louder than any thunderstorm, louder than any explosion- the kinda sound that goes clean through you, splits your ears and rattles your bones.”

“it was a scream, only not like any i’d ever heard before. there was a raw, guttural quality to it- like a wounded animal- yet the power was undeniable. but there was some distortion to it as well; an underpinning of static like the whole thing was bein’ broadcast through a beat-up jukebox. just thinkin’ of it sends chills down my spine.”

“then a peculiar thing popped up in chat. someone had made an achievement, only we couldn’t tell who or what. all the text was scrambled, like those funny words you see on an enchantment table. never met anyone who could read it. but needless to say, this sparked an entire movement bent on discoverin’ what the hell had happened.”

“some of the more adventurous players went explorin’ and found the end chunks. players who knew a thing or two about data analysis started huntin’ through their comms, usin’ the data of an endstone block someone brought back. didn’t take long after that to figure it out.”

“they found there was a dragon that belonged to a separate realm from overworld and nether. the end, they surmised. y’know, where endermen came from. the dragon lived there, sustained by end crystals that were said to float atop obsidian pillars on the end island it called home- its nest, as it were. so, unsurprisingly, it was called the ender dragon.”

“and if you killed it, you opened a portal. where it’d lead was anyone’s guess, but it was a way out of hels.”

“i was young, then. young and hungry. i banded up with some other players and we consulted an expert- the founder of data analysis, actually- to extrapolate the coordinates for the main end island. only he didn’t find just one; he found ten sets of coords, spread out over hundreds of thousands of blocks, nearly a million blocks. he predicted that each obsidian pillar had spawned on a separate end chunk, and that each one would have to be tracked down to kill the dragon. we had to destroy the crystals first, you see. he thought it was a waste of time, a fool’s errand, but we didn’t listen. so we split up, takin’ one set of coords each, and set off.”

“they were all ‘bout the same distance from each other, so no one had an easier go of it. i took one northeast of spawn, seven hundred and twenty-nine thousand blocks out. the journey took years. not sure exactly how many, i stopped keepin’ count sometime after the fifth. the other players on the mission gradually stopped replyin’ to my whispers- i think some of ‘em gave up and turned back. wasn’t sure if i was the only one still goin’, ‘til i eventually saw their death messages in chat, one by one. mobs, lava, fall damage, the usual. some might’ve died on the way; traversin’ hels alone on foot is no cake walk, even without the concern of PVP. never heard from any of ‘em again.”

“but i’d gone so far that givin’ up wasn’t an option. even if no one else had made it to their pillar and destroyed the crystal, even if killin’ the dragon would be impossible, i had to see it through. so i kept goin’. it was a lonesome existence, bein’ that far from spawn; i went months without sayin’ a single word, at times, damn near lost my mind. but it weren’t all bad. i reached the unloaded chunks, saw naturally-spawned passive mobs for the first time in my life. i saw rare biomes i’d never heard of, even came across one of those glitched end ships with an elytra. journey went quicker, after that, but it was still several years before i finally reached the coords.”

“the pillar was exactly what you’d expect. a tall, round obelisk made of solid obsidian, rooted on a floatin’ chunk of an endstone island. there were some endermen millin’ about the place, far more than in any other biome i’d seen- ‘cept maybe the warped jungles- but no sign of the dragon. the crystal was at the very top of the pillar in an iron cage, so i flew on up there, thinking at least i’d do what i came to do.”

“soon as i set foot on the top of the pillar, i heard a strange sound. it was that little zippin’ sound you hear when an enderman teleports- only it was a louder, deeper, slower sound that seemed to shake the world. like i could actually hear the distortion of space and time itself. the air suddenly filled with a haze of purple particles, so thick i could hardly see, move, or breathe.”

“and then she appeared.”

“the dragon was all black, black as the void ‘neath bedrock, with spines down her back and huge, bat-like wings, deadly sharp teeth and claws. she was big enough to swallow me whole and we both knew it. but what really put me off was that she was glitched.”

“it’s the best way i can describe it. her body was flickerin’ around all crazy-like as if i’d gone cross-eyed, so she appeared in multiples at times, countless wings unfurlin’ from the distorted mass. anywhere i looked directly at her would suddenly seem… pixelated, almost, like her form was fracturin’ into pieces, like i couldn’t fully ‘preciate the whole. but i remember her eyes. they were pure white, so bright it hurt to look at ‘em, and as she moved they seemed to blink in and out of existence around her, like they couldn’t quite settle in her skull. like twinklin’ stars against the night sky, beyond the bedrock ceiling.”

“she was beautiful.”

“the dragon perched against the tower, claws grippin’ the obsidian on either side of me, curled her slender neck down ‘til we were face-to-face, and roared. it had that same quality as that sound i’d heard all those years ago, and i knew at once it’d been her death rattle. in my daze, i remember wonderin’ who could’ve possibly managed to kill such a creature? what kinda player would even want to?”

“i’d been well-prepared for the fight. full enchanted gear, potions, gapples. but starin’ up at her, i couldn’t bring myself to use any of it. i just stared at her, caught in a moment that felt like an eternity as she stared back, before i realized her breath was poison.”

“i ended up back at the world spawn. didn’t matter i’d set a respawn anchor nearby the end island- this seemed to overwrite it. lost everythin’, of course, but i didn’t care. my death message in the chat was glitched, too, in that same strange language. now, i didn’t share my experience with the rest of the world; only to those who asked, and only in the hopes of dissuadin’ them from makin’ an attempt of their own.”

“which brings us to the end.” the player finally sits back, studying you with a shrewd gaze. “now, you listen to me. that dragon ain’t somethin’ to be killed, understand?”

you nod.

“good.” the player’s expression changes. “so, i’m afraid you’re not gonna like the next part of the story. but nothin’s free in this world, least of all knowledge.”

the player moves, there’s a flash of metal, and suddenly there’s a sword in your gut. engrossed in the story, you hadn’t even noticed them equip it.

“sorry,” the player tells you with a grin, “but that dragon ain’t the only monster here. send my regards to spawn.”

as darkness consumes you, your last thought is that the white spots dancing across your vision suddenly look like dragon eyes, blinking from the void.

~*~

[tinykonig]

Ghost x reader headcannons

im so glad you guys are enjoying these??? i love making them and its helping me procrastinate finals :) as always these are written for afab, and sometimes include references feminine terms. if you like how i write for ghost, send me a lil request and i might turn it into something :)

NSFW indicated in post 🤍

Genuinely it takes fucking forever for Ghost to admit having feelings for you. He is in denial for soooo long

What finally makes him crack is getting critically injured on a mission and all he can think about is how he should have told you

He resolves to tell you once he comes to in the hospital. He figures it would be stupid to waste any more time

You come to see him and you think he doesn’t want you there because he can’t make eye contact with you and that’s rare for him

You just kind of awkwardly apologize for coming and turn to leave and he just barks out “Wait.”

When Ghost is getting something off his chest he gets it all out. So he’s just very bluntly telling you that you were all he could think about when he thought he was going to die and he doesn’t see the point in hiding how he feels any longer

At the end of his speech he looks at you and you are getting a little emotional and this motherfucker has the audacity to be like, “… why are you crying?”

Like you just spilled your heart out to me give me a break!!!

His entire body relaxes when you tell him you feel the same way. He didn’t even realize how tense he had been

You don’t leave his side until he’s recovered and able to fully function back to normal

He doesn’t say thank you with his words but rather his actions. His eyes tell you everything anyways

Sometimes he will glance around him to make sure no one else is watching and then just lift you into the most earth shatteringly wonderful hug

Puts you down after a few seconds and returns to whatever he was doing without a word. You grew used to this eventually

So protective. Like wont even let you walk on the side of the sidewalk thats closer to the road. Puts himself between you and any dangers

You will be his passenger princess. There is no way he lets you drive sorry thats his job, he looks damn good doing it so you dont mind

(holds your hand over the center console)

Big on acts of service. Does little domestic things for you like folds your laundry while you take a nap and offers to cook dinner every other day

Stares at you when you sleep. He thinks you look so angelic and peaceful and it makes him feel all warm inside but he’s definitely scared the shit out of you a few times

Not a fan of going out a lot. He’s a homebody when he’s not in the field

The best listener!!! He will offer advice when you ask for it or will just lend you sympathy when you don’t want advice

He does have his moments where he needs his space, and if you try to push him he can get mean

After he’s recharged and feeling back to normal he is touch. starved.

Likes to spoon, likes to watch movies with you in between his legs and laying on his chest, likes standing behind you while you are doing anything and just holding your hips

He always buries his face in your neck and just breathes deep. Could drown in your scent and be happy

It takes him awhile to remove his mask freely around you because its a feeling of vulnerability that just gnaws at him

He warms up to it over time and you see his face more and more often. Loves that you act the same either way

He has dimples (fist fight me if you disagree)

He can grow a killer beard, but trims it based on your preference because he doesn’t care either way

Very thoughtful with gifts and always remembers your birthday (sometimes forgets his own)

Knows your order for every restaurant and will make sure its correct and if its not he IS letting them know. How dare they

Literally mocks whatever accent you have constantly. Playfully but he’s brutal

If you are being stubborn he is not against just picking you up and slinging you across his shoulder

Sleeps like a rock this one

Likes to watch sports on tv and catches himself cheering his team on and then gets embarrassed (its so fucking cute)

If his mask is off and he sees any exposed part of your skin- he’s biting

And then going about his business like he didn’t just bite you???? So weird

NSFW BELOW THIS POINT

The biting happens in the bedroom too, specifically when he cums. Your neck will have teeth marks

Switch, switch, switch

His bedroom eyes are soo severe , he just gives you a single half lidded stare and your clothes are coming off

He loves to degrade you, he doesn’t talk a lot but when he does he is telling you how pathetic you look crying on his cock

Loves to be degraded too :) Whines if you call him pussy drunk (because he is)

A little rough but king of aftercare

Loves watching you come undone on his fingers. Has a thing for wearing his gloves when he fingers you

OVERSTIMULATION thats all

Against the wall is a specialty of Simons

Grunts a lot, growls sometimes when he is close

You go down on him and he sometimes lets go and moans

Always returns the favor

Doesn’t do quickies or risky places

Will do about anything else

[venbetta]

I'm not sure if anyone's ever thought about this or has made a post about it, but I figured I'd add my own two cents if someone did talk about this.

// Ruin spoilers ahead

mostly about Freddy

So, seeing that headless Freddy has prototype written on the bottom of his foot, it's suggested or even theorized that our Freddy (the one we're with in SB) was a prototype this entire time.

Of course, like many others, I was very skeptical and in denial about the idea because why the hell would that be a thing? How is he a prototype? It wasn't there on his foot in the base game, so why this sudden change?

I kinda hated it, and as a way to cope, I theorized that maybe it wasn't the same Freddy and FazEnt just replaced him with another copy and then abandoned him... don't ask me how that particular Freddy became headless either. Also I was wobbling between the "True Ending" being the Canon one, I was back and forth and just trying to figure out what would've made sense.

My logic for the True Ending being canon was, maybe Freddy and Gregory both got out (alongside Vanessa) with glamdaddy intact, and they're just living life. Meanwhile, Faz Ent just made a new Freddy while fixing the plex but gave up and left everything to rot. Of course I know now that makes no sense or explains why/how the 2nd Freddy lost his head, but it's what I came up with. The PQ Ending is technically canon... so that was a waste of a braincell, hah...

Since fnaf has the tendency to rewrite/add things to the story, I think our Glamrock Freddy being a prototype is something I've accepted. Now, there are a few things I thought of that might add to the idea of him being a prototype (not confirmed but more speculative).

He's a high-tech, sentient AI robot, he can clearly experience human emotion (like the other glamrocks) and has decent mobility. What most likely seperates him from the other glams is the fact that he experiences existentialism. I know we don't see much from the other glams, what they think of their current situation (not even from Roxy in Ruin), they aren't fully aware of what they are or what they're doing (as far as we know). Their programming is focused on being entertainers and birthdays.

I'm not gonna say that the other glams aren't able to express deeper thoughts, but I think this is where I might be stretching this idea just a bit.

If you're going to make AI bots who can adapt and be flexible with their environment, there's gotta be some kind of limit of what they can say/think/do. Freddy is the prime example of not having that limitation since we see/hear him express concern about not being the only Glamrock Freddy that's walking around:

"Have I always been a Freddy? Am I Monty with a different shell? What if I am not the first Glamrock Freddy? ... Do we all feel the same? Am I special? If I am mass-produced, am I still art?" (Endo Warehouse)

This motherfucker literally commits arson:

"You sure collected a lot of toys! Perhaps we can do something to stop whatever is going on here." (Fire escape Ending)

When he goes to the basement and encounters the blob, he goes on this monologue:

"I know what this is. I have been here before. She brought me here. I found myself for the first time when I cleared the path. I did not want to, but I had no choice. Now I have a choice. I have changed. My friends are here. They are so angry, confused. But I can protect you. I am not me." (True Ending)

He ultimately goes against some of his programming to help a child in need-- even lie to a security guard-- which if he were set to do as he's told, he would've sent Gregory straight to Vanessa, even with Gregory adamantly telling him not to.

If he were programmed to be strict and not break any protocols, he'd would've gotten Gregory killed immediately.

I'm saying this because if we're being realistic (realistic in terms of how we usually program robots and things), there are barriers in what a robot/ai can really say/do that doesn't break its programming. If he's a prototype, Freddy wouldn't have those barriers to stop him from saying/doing most of the things he did in SB. I know there's another factor to him behaving kindly to Gregory and that's him being in safe mode, but even still... you would think he would follow the rules and not let Gregory do certain things and perhaps unintentionally get the boy killed.

I'm going back to the existential crisis Freddy has, because for something that's meant to be an animatronic mascot for kids, you wouldn't want him to make the children around him question the meaning of being alive and sentient. There would have to be some sort of guard against having those kind of thoughts and ideas. It makes Freddy more interesting, especially if he could've been easily replaced with a finalized version of him that did what he was suppose to.

Also, I know it's probably more widely accepted that either Vanny or Gregory hacked into Freddy, causing his collapse during the opening. With him being a prototype, maybe his systems couldn't handle that type of an advanced hack, unlike the other glams, making him unable to be properly hacked into in the beginning.

Not only that, there are some issues he has with performing, who knows, maybe he's had collapses before. We don't know.

Him being unable to enter the West Arcade:

"When I step onto the West Arcade dance floor I cannot stop myself! It is a programming bug." (West Arcade)

I'm aware him being in safe mode meant he's disconnected from the main network as well keeps him docile. While the "Afton" fight isn't technically canon, with the other upgrades on Freddy, those parts might have made him more susceptible to the virus attack. There's not much evidence pointing to the other glams not being prototypes but seeing how they each have upgrades while Freddy doesn't, that might hint that the others were mostly finalized, meaning their systems were properly functioning (aside from the virus of course).

Sorry if this was super long, but it's something I thought about and I had to put it in words. Nothing about Glamrock Freddy is normal, like he's not possessed (I use to believe in the glammike theory but I don't anymore eh...), but he's a prototype! He's gonna act all funky because he's not polished yet... and I think that's very interesting and endearing (in an odd way).

[bolszaja-miedwedica]

yo i really shouldn't give a fuck but even my deities are disgusted if you don't like my posts or how my practice looks like or what I'm reblogging or how my relationship with my gods looks like you don't need to waste your damn energy to hex me there's a fuckin block button on my profile and yall are privileged as fuck if you prefer to hex a loser on tumblr instead of some fuckin murderers or abusers and you should know every fuckin hex or curse WILL BE sent back to y'all i do NOT give a single fuck okay? privileged ass motherfuckers "every practice is different" unless you feel like someone's is too weird or too casual and you feel the need to play your deities advocate if they were fuckin not okay with what I'm doing they would tell me you know??? my blog is not for fuckin educating you or for yall to approve it's literally meant to be my space where i post funny talks with my gods it's not for yall to like its for me so if you dont like it gently fuck off and i shouldn't need to fuckin specify anything of what i said here it's perfectly clear what I'm saying

[nixie-writes-aot]

Reactions to S/O with Abusive Family

Warnings: mentions of abuse and trauma, abuse of power/status, mention of murder, threat of bodily harm, hurt/comfort, fluff

Characters: Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith, Hange Zoe

Author's Note: The third and last part. Honestly these headcanons were so fun so I might do more hurt/comfort in the future!

Levi Ackerman

Levi, like Mikasa, is also not terribly surprised. I don't think any of the veterans would be honestly

They all are too used to what the world is like and how cruel it can be even to those who don't deserve anything like that. Especially Levi

Now there are two different reactions Levi might have depending on which Levi 

If its Levi from the Underground, sorry but your family is dead

Thug Levi has killed for much much less. Hell, he killed a group of thugs just for getting in Isabel's way and upsetting her. So the chances of actual abusers surviving after you told him what they've done? Not bloody likely

Levi will, of course, hold you close and bury his face in the crook of your neck all to comfort you

He's very emotionally repressed so you shouldn't expect much else 

Now Captain Levi?

Much different story. For example, unless they were an active threat, particularly in s3, he wouldn't kill them. But oh boy 

Levi is someone who can easily, and will without hesitation, calmly rip into someone just for wasting his time. After all, Levi is one hell of a composed and stoic motherfucker

Now, the worst he might do for non-threatening is harsh words and maybe his own threat, albeit empty

But an active threat? Much different story. Levi learned from Kenny and the Underground that active threats must be taken out

Now regardless of him killing your family or just making them hate him, he is dragging you into his office. The one time he doesn't sweat the potential filth on your clothes, simply pulling you into bed with him and burying his face in your chest

"I wanted to kill them."

His statement is meant to be reassuring, that it would always be you and never them in his eyes

But also Levi is one very emotionally repressed bitch 

Erwin Smith 

Honestly Erwin probably already knew you had a rough home life, not many parents would just sit by and let their children become Scouts under Keith Shadis

The Scouting Legion is still viewed poorly when he takes over, don't get me wrong, but we're talking about a man who had a mental breakdown in the middle of the street and in front of not only all his men but the public too

Erwin would never

Now Erwin knowing and being told is two different things. Erwin could probably only think about his own childhood when you told him so he pulls you close, into his lap and starts playing with your hair and massaging your scalp. As he does, Erwin tells you about his dream and the will of his own father way back when

Erwin has accepted what happened by the time he's Commander Erwin but he still doesn't feel great about it, obviously, so its a moment of weakness for both of you

And thats exactly what Erwin wanted you to see. That you opening up and being vulnerable didn't have to be so one sided even if he was your commander

Now Erwin has a lot of power to throw around, especially if your family weren't anyone like the merchants or nobles or the Wall Church

So Erwin uses that power, lets you see how beneficial he can really be with that always so polite smile on his face even if he's currently ruining the lives of those who ruined your own life

"There are some that simply do not know how to behave, those should either keep quiet or have every dirty little secret spread among their peers."

Like I love Erwin but dude lowkey manipulates a lot of things into happening. Especially when it was concerning Levi in the No Regrets OVA

Hange Zoe

Hange is probably the only shocked veteran when you open up

They are appalled 

"But why!? Titans should be the concern, not each other!" 

And you even almost hear them swear but when you only shrug, they pull you close and sigh. They are well and truly refusing to let you go for even a minute. Hange is very clingy during the night you tell them and even the following day

Only Levi, Miche, or Erwin would be able to pry them away. Maybe Moblit 

They just want you to feel reassured and comforted by their presence

Hange probably takes you out to train with the ODM gear just to give you a proper outlet. They know they like training when upset

Dear god if they see your family? It is one of the very very few moments you see them angry. Even Levi seems nicer in comparison. Hange storms right up to your parent, decks them and stands over them 

"If you touch them again, I will personally make sure you don't have a hand to do that with again."

You probably have to pull Hange off your parent actually

And afterwards, Hange is clingy all over again. They're wrapping their arms around you, shoving their face into your back and sighing loudly 

Hange probably spends the next week making sure you know how much they love you and how much they would do just for you

Normally, you're an average soldier but Hange keeps dragging you away from your squad to their own squad, doing science stuff with them and Moblit

[bbissuestm]

Do fish think they are flying?

Summary: on the last friday of the school year, your class decided to throw a party on one of your friends' parents club. There, you met the Morales twins.

Tags: fem!reader, underage drinking, twin au, spanish reader.

A/N: Milo is Miles from Earth 42 since its the one ive seen most. English is no my native language so please have it in mind T^T. OH AND THERES NO SMUT, NO MATTER HOW SUS IT CAN GET (my friend said at one point it seemed that it was gonna turn +18 but its not).

You didn't go partying that much, you didn't like the ambient. Half of the time you went partying with your friends, all they wanted to do was get wasted. You weren't interested in that, you wanted to dance and actually have a good time, not drink until you couldn't remember your own name.

So, when your friends told you about the end of school year party, you weren't interested. They insisted on you going, though, saying that it was being held at one of your friends's parents club, one that you actually liked. They had a great mix of music there, all of the genres were ones that you really enjoyed. And they had some good spanish songs!

They promised to not get wasted and actually dance with you, so you agreed to go.

And there you were, in your favourite silk dress, dancing with your friends with a soda in your hand. In the distance, the Morales twins were observing you. While you were on the dancing floor with a few of your friends, they were leaning against the bar top, staring at you.

This was not their place, at all. But, when Milo heard you were coming, he forced Miles to acompany him. Tonight was the night he was going to finally speak to you.

However, the party had been going on for an hour already and he had not made any moves yet.

"Dudeeeeee" Miles let out, exasperated. "Just go and talk to her! Hell, look at her, I bet you don't even gotta talk, just go and dance with her." He said, turning around to his Nestea. "It ain't hard man..." he mumbled.

Milo forced his eyes away from your moving figure to Miles, scowling at him. "Motherfucker, you ain't one to talk. How'd go with that blonde, huh? Still got her hair stuck up your ass?" He asked, his eyes going back to you.

Miles groaned loudly, "What does that have to do with her? And, fuck you for bringing Gwen to this." Miles let out, thinking about the girl she's been missing for the past months. Milo looked back at him, watching as he fidgeted with the rim of his glass. He sighed, leaning farther against the bar top.

"My bad, it's just-!" He said, looking back at you. You were currently mouthing the words to Automotivo Bibi Fogosa while dancing with your friends, your silk dress moving with your body. "I don't know why, it's hard talking to her!" He said, pouting slightly.

Miles stared at him, raising an eyebrow. His brother was known for a lot of things, and his confidence was one of those things. Why were you making him so nervous? He brought the drink to his lips, thinking. "Damn, you must really like her, bro." Miles settled on saying, thinking about how he should be patrolling right now instead of being here. But, as Milo groaned and turned around to bury himself in his arms, he decided he had to stay to help the mess his brother was.

Miles smirked, leaning on his side to look at Milo. "Ok, man, listen. You're gonna go there, get in front of her, place your hand-" "If you tell me to do the 'shoulder tuch' I'm gonna take your arm and shove it up your ass until it's out your mouth." Milo interrupted him, still buried between his arms.

Miles stared at him, smacking his lips with a bewildered look. "O-kay." He said, turning back to his drink. A couple minutes passed like that, when a bartender stood in front of them.

"Hey, you've been here for a while. Why don't you go dance?" He said, while cleaning some glasses. Milo groaned, and Miles smiled at him, apologetically. "Girl problems." He said, finishing his drink. Milo glared back up at him, and the bartender laughed. "Well, I remember having those." He said, turning around to the liquor shelf. Both twins stared at him, raising an eyebrow. They looked at each other, curious, while the bartender poured something on two shot glasses. He then placed one in front of each other, smiling at them.

"This will help." He said, signaling to the drinks. Both twins straighten, Miles stuttering and Milo staring as if alarms had been turned on in his mind. "Oh, uh, we can't, man, we're, uh, minors." Miles let out, laughing awkwardly. Milo nodded in agreement, resisting the urge to down both drinks. Tha bartender laughed, and signaled with his arms to their classmates. "They all are, our boss is paying us to stay silent, so." He said, smiling and nodding his head to the drinks. The twins looked at each other, a silent question between them.

The bartender went away, having drinks to pour to already drunk teens. Miles shook his head at Milo, and Milo turned slightly, watching as you continued dancing and laughing. He grabbed one of the shots the bartender poured and downed it in one go, cringing slightly. "Milo!" Miles said, surprised. Milo shrugged at him, grabbing the other shot. "I've done worse things, Miles. Plus, it's just two shots, man, I'll be ok." Milo said, downing the other shot in front of a disaproving Miles.

As Milo finished downing the other shot, Miles stared at him, curious. "So? How's it feel?" He asked Milo, curious. Milo stood at his side, feeling the burn in his throat and his head lighten. He felt the music rumble his bones, the lights warming his skin. And he saw you, savouring all those things, moving your body against one of your friends'.

He turned to Miles, smiling slightly. "Feels like I'm getting her number." He said, punching his brother's arm playfully, and jogging to you.

Heaven and Back by Chase Atlantic was currently playing, and you were shouting the lyrics. All your friends had already gotten wasted, and they were all moving without rhythm as they kept drinking. You tried to ignore them and feel the music, with a soda in your hand.

You saw someone walking to you, a slight smirk on his lips. He walked confidently, his braids moving in sync with his steps. He was attractive, and he knew it. You admired that. You saw him mouthing the lyrics slightly as he got closer to you, and when you were close enough, you didn’t let him talk, you grabbed him by the wrist and made him move to the rhythm, your bodies crashing against each other rhythmically as you sang the lyrics.

He looked taken aback, but let you take control of his body. You stayed like that for the rest of the song, dancing and singing together. He seemed a bit self-conscious for the first seconds, but then got used to you. Once the music ended, you saw his lips moving. The music drowned all the noise he was making, so you got closer to him, pointing at your ear with your index. "Can't hear you, get closer!" You yelled, and signaled him to get down to your ear level.

He did, a bit stiff and awkward, but he yelled against your ear. "I'm Milo!" He said, and you smiled at him. You mirrored his movements, getting closer to his ear and yelling while bobbing your head to the music. "I'm Y/N!" You said, laughing slightly. "I know." He said, loud enough for you to hear. He seemed to regret that instantly, and you found it adorable. You stared at him, smiling. "You know?" You asked, teasing him.

You saw him get embarrassed, but covered it by grabbing your wrist and spinning you to the rhythm of the music. You laughed, loudly. Once you were facing each other again, you slipped your hand into his, intertwining your fingers. "Lemme buy you a drink!" You said, leading him to the bar.

Milo's eyes widened as you did, but he led you to where his brother was once you were near the bar. Miles was now sitting in a bar stool with a large glass full of a clear liquid. He had his phone between his hands, typing furiously. You let Milo lead the way, and stood between him and his brother. Milo slapped the back of Miles’ head, and he startled, scowling at him. He went to hit him back but stopped once he saw you.

You stared as he smiled big at his brother, wiggling his eyebrows. Milo rolled his eyes but you missed it, realizing they were the Morales twins. "You're the twins!" You exclaimed. By the bar the music wasn't as loud as on the dance floor, so you didn't need to yell. They both raised their eyebrows at you. You laughed softly, leaning against the bar top. "Sorry, that must sound weird. You're kinda famous in my friendgroup." You made eye contact with a bartender, and he nodded as he smiled, taking notice that the boys had fixed their 'girl problems'.

Miles and Milo stared at each other, surprised. "We are?" Miles asked, taking a sip of his drink. You looked at them, smiling. "Yeah!" You said, and turned around so your back was against the bar top. Milo leaned on his side, watching you, and Miles turned his body a bit so he could see both the dance floor and you. You pointed at one of your friends, she was currently talking to another one with a bottle of alcohol on her hands. "She had a massive crush on you, our first days of school." You explained, looking at Miles. You laughed, turning around. "She wouldn't shut up about you, man. 'Miles this, Miles that'." You let out, laughing. Your friend had been obssessed with him by that time, after he had been obssessed with a guy over summer. She was one of those girls that always had a crush, and none of them lasted more than two weeks.

Miles looked at you, disbelieving, and Milo laughed. You turned to him, enjoying his laugh. "Yeah, right, as if someone would like him with a face like that." He said, smirking. You stared at him, thinking he was insulting himself. "Dude, we have the same face." Miles said, mumbling an insult in spanish. Milo turned to him and hit him on the head, Miles returning it. You let the twins play-fight behind you, as you finally had a bartender's attention. "I'll have a Soda, and, uh-" You turned to Milo, giving him a playful smack on his chest to grab his attention. He looked at you and the bartender with his wide eyes. "Uh..." He let out as he let Miles go, clearing his throat. he looked at the random names on the blackboard and settled on the first thing his eyes landed on. The price didn't matter, he was going to pay for the drinks anyways. "A... a Black Russian. Please." he said it slowly, the name new on his lips.

Both you and the bartender stared at him, unsure. The bartender, though, got to work. "Is it your first time drinking?" You ask Milo, without teasing or judgement. Still, he felt like he had to impress you, so he shrugged. "Not really, I-" Miles didn't let him finish. "It is." He said, and Milo glared at him. You laughed, looking at Milo. "Well, then," You said, wacthing as the bartender gave both of you your drinks. "good luck." You said as you brought your soda to your lips. You watched as he did the same, expecting him to cringe at the drink. Instead, he drank it as if it was water.

He felt satisfaction at the way your face showed your surprise. You turned back to Miles, "Are you sure it's his first time?" They both laughed at your phrasing, and you rolled your eyes. "Yes," Miles said, between giggles. "it's mine too." he said, taking a sip of his drink. You stared as he took a sip, and wondered what he was drinking. You felt Milo get closer to you, and mistook his jealousy as curiosity.

"What are you drinking, Miles?" You asked, smiling. You let the curiosity be shown in your tone, and he looked at you while drinking from the straw. "Water." He said, confused. You smiled at him, and raised your arm. "Could I have a sip? So much Soda is drying my throat." You said, smiling at him. You felt Milo placing his hand on your waist, desperate to have your attention. Perhaps he was drinking too much too.

You ignored him, as he had not made you uncomfortable, and took a sip out of Miles' drink, feeling the liquor burn at the back of your throat. You stared at the drink, mixing it while debating wether to tell him or not. You smiled at him, giving him his drink back. "Thanks, Miles." You sighed discreetly, deciding to stay here to look after both of them.

You felt Milo tighten his grip on your waist and turned to him. You smiled at him, and his scowl went away. "So," You said, looking at his now empty glass. "do you go out much?" You ask, curious. Milo took his hand back, suddenly flustered. "Not really our area." He mumbled, looking at a nodding Miles. You scoffed, with a smile on your lips. "Yeah, people say that." You turned around, leaning your back at the bar top, watching your drunk friends stumble between them as they tried to dance. The brothers looked at each other, taking in what you said.

Before they could question you, you hummed to the song that was now playing, lighting up when you recognized it. "Oh my god!" You said, looking at Milo and Miles. "Dama con fama y cama alta gama, corazon partido." You sang, moving at the rhythm of the music. Miles and Milo sang with you, knowing the lyrics. Milo leaned against your shoulder, whispering in your ear. "Me llamo como el cantante. (I have the same name as the singer)" He said, proudly. You laughed, leaning against him. The song playing was Rara vez by Milo J. "Tienes razón. (you're right)" You answered, finding him adorable. You took notice of the new glass he had in his hands, as he looked at Miles in surprise.

"You know Spanish?" They both asked, surprised. You moved away from them, dancing. "Of course," you say, facing them. "I'm Spanish." You said, mumbling the lyrics to the song. The brothers looked at each other, surprise on their faces, and you grabbed their arms, pulling them to the dance floor. "Enough talk, let's dance!" You said, as the two let you lead them to the dance floor.

All three of you stayed like that for a couple more hours, them getting more drinks and you continue to drink your sodas and water as you kept dancing to the music. Though they were also getting wasted, they could at least dance while drunk, so you had fun.

After two and a half hours, though, they started to get a bit too drunk. "Do fish think they are flying?" Milo asked, while you were all waiting for more drinks. You made eye contact with the bartender, her stilling as Milo let his thoughts out. "I don't know, but I love you, man. I think I don't tell you enough." Miles said, looking at the brink of tears. You silently told the bartender to put water instead of alcohol, and she did so gratefully.

"Ok, well, it's getting late, maybe we should get going." You said, slipping some cash to the bartender. Milo looked at you, as if he hadn't heard you. "Think about it, the water is like air is like for us, right?" He said, words slurring. Miles looked at him, as if his mind was going meters per hour. "Dude..." Miles said, looking amazed. Milo looked back at him, as if he thought he was a genius. You calmly sipped on your drink, enjoying their bickering for a bit. "Right? And-and" he said, hiccuping. "they can see sand, were crabs are. They gotta think they flyin, man." He said, as if it were the most important topic. Miles motioned as if his head was exploding, making a little 'whoosh' sound. You laughed at their antics, grabbing them by their arms. Forget the drinks, you had to get these two home.

"I guess it has logic." You said, amazed at their drunk thoughts. Milo kept talking all the way out the bar, but his voice got muffled by the music. Miles answered from time to time, pretending to listen to his brother. His brother did the same. You rolled your eyes at their behaviour, with a small smile on your lips.

Once you were outside, they both linked their arms between yours, leaning against you to be able to walk. Miles was currently saying something about how much he loved both of you in slurred words, when Milo spotted a tree. You led them to a side-walk, stopping when you realized you didn't know where they lived. You turned to Milo, going to ask him for directions, but once he saw he had your attention he opened his mouth. "Do you think plants are farming us? They give us... they let o, oxygen for us until we die... and, and then, they use us as- then we turn into mulch and they consume us." You stared at him, processing it.

You turned to Miles after smiling softly at Milo. "Hey, Miles," you said, and he looked up at you, his vision blurred. "where do you live?" Miles looked at you, dumbfounded. A moment later, it looked like a lightbulb had been lit in his head. Milo looked the same. "Oh, towards there." They said in unison as they both pointed opposte sides. You sighed, running out of patience. As adorable as they were, you wanted to get out of the heels you were wearing.

Milo noticed your change in demeanor and separated his arm from yours, smacking Miles on the head. "Estás tan pendejo que no sabes ni dónde vives? (are you so stupid you don't even know where you live?)" Milo let out, annoyed. Miles looked at him with glimmering eyes. "Si sabo- uh... sepo, sapo...?" Miles started, looking at the distance, struggling with his words. You laughed, finding that adorable. "Se." You helped him, Miles light up and Milo scowled, jealousy filling his body. "Si sé dónde-" Miles started, his english accent thick on the spanish. "Si si, shut up already." Milo said, rudely. Miles roll his eyes, used to his brother's manners. However, alcohol seemed to make him defensive because he didn't shut up. "Well, at least I don't need alcohol to talk to a girl." Milo turned around so fast he almost fell, but you grabbed him and linked your arms again, following where he went. You weren't paying attention to what they were saying, thinking they were just letting out drunk thoughts.

"Fuck you." Milo said, seething. He didn't want to be embarrassed in front of you, he knew he was already going to regret this tomorrow morning. His tone brought your attention back to them, thinking they were going to fight, but you watched as Miles stuck his tongue out to a scowling Milo. Milo seemed to be thinking about hitting Miles, so you blocked his view of him with yourself. You nodded to the right right, "is it there?" You asked him, smiling. Milo's brain seemed to stop for a second, staring at you. You waited patiently for him to answer, and after a couple of seconds he seemed to get out of his trance, flustered. He nodded, but walked straight ahead. You laughed, letting him guide you.

"Do you-“Miles started, hiccuping "do you think mom will kill us?" Miles said, looking at Milo. "She isn't… there's no one home." Milo said, sure of himself. Miles sighed, relieved. He then pouted, lip trembling. "She's amazing, she deserves sons better than us." Miles said, Milo agreeing. Your eyes widened, watching as both of them saddened. The deep drunk thoughts were the worst, so you cleared your throat, awkwardly.

"Reading 'do not touch' in braille must be one of the scariest things." You said, trying to get the twins back to their dumb bickering. They both stayed silent, thinking. Milo looked up first, looking at you with a bright smile, it made your insides warm. "Bro, you're right." Miles then processed it, and looked like his mind had exploded, again. You laughed, watching as they both got back to these weird random thoughts. You interjected from time to time, saying things that made their floating minds explode.

You were all currently singing to Bad Bunny's WHERE SHE GOES when the twins stopped in front of a building, detaching themselves from you as they yelled the words to the song, between laughs. You stared as they attempted to get up the stairs, helping them when they stumbled. "We gotta blast it when we get inside, 'Lo." Miles said, talking about the song they were singing. Milo nodded, humming the rhythm as he struggled to get his keys out.

Miles turned back to you as Milo still struggled with his keys. You watched in desesperation, thinking that now you had to go back to your house. In heels and a short dress. You were definetely not getting home safe. "You heard that song, Y/N?" Miles asks you, smiling. You laugh at him, nodding. "It's amazing! I really like-" Miles hiccuped, bringing his hand to his chest. "Bad Bunny, I also like Andrea, the song." Miles says laughing and leaning against the railing, as Milo finally got his keys out.

You grabbed them from him, smiling at him when he pouted at you, and opened the door for them. Miles got inside first, yelling. "HOME SWEET HOME, WOO!!" You laughed as Milo rolled his eyes. Milo got inside then, turning back to you. You threw him his keys and went to turn around, but he stopped you. "Where are you going, ma?" You stopped.

Ma? The fuck? You turned back to him, raising an eyebrow. "Um... home? Where else would I be going?" You said, blushing slightly at the nickname. Milo rolled his eyes, turning back and motioning you to come inside too. "Milo! Close the door!" You told him, making him turn back around. Before he could open his mouth, Miles appeared with a speaker in his hand, blasting Bad Bunny’s song. They laughed and started singing, but you quickly grabbed the speaker, turning the volume down. “Miles, it’s too late- early…? Whatever, it’s not a good hour to blast music!” You said, scolding him. As you said this, though, you heard the door close. You turned around, looking at a mischievous looking Milo. You stared at him, processing everything.

He smirked, placing the keys on a high closet that he was sure you couldn’t reach. He joined his brother, both singing to Bad Bunny, loudly. You sighed, pressing your hands against your closed eyes as you felt a migraine coming. You stared at the boys, leaning against a wall. You sighed, watching them dance and sing.

Well, at least they weren’t trying weird things with you. God, how’d you end up here? You sighed, taking your heels off. They trapped you here, so you decided that manners were useless right now. You placed the heels against a wall and approached the twins, turning the volume down. They turned to you, and they looked surprise. Miles got closer to you, comparing your heights. “Bro, you were taller.” He said, genuinely confused. Milo jogged next to you, and tilted his head, also comparing heights. You took a breath, controlling yourself. Milo scoffed, leaning against his brother. “You’re right, she’s a midget now, bro.” They giggled and you decided you’ve had enough. You punched both of their shoulders before smacking them in the back of their heads. “Ok, both of you, fuck off and sit down.” You said, pointing to the couch.

They did, one rubbing his head and the other rubbing his shoulder. They looked at each other, feeling guilty. Miles’ eyes seemed to be watering and Milo looked down, feeling bad. You sighed, softening. You rested a hand against your hip. “Where’s your kitchen?” You asked, tired. They looked up at you and pointed to a room. You smiled, watching them. They looked like puppies that had been kicked out. “Thank you,” you said, ruffling both of the brother’s hair, your hand lingering in Milo’s.

You headed to the kitchen and started looking around slowly, trying to not make a mess. You grabbed two glasses and pour water in them, you brought them back to the twins, who were now resting on the couch. They looked about to doze off, so you let the glasses make a soft noise against the table, startling them. They looked up at you, curious.

You smiled at them, motioning for them to grab the glasses. “Water, drink it.” You looked as they did so, both smiling at you. “Thanks!” Miles said, chugging the water. Milo looked at you with a smirk, slowly grabbing the drink. “Thank you, ma.” He said, teasing, and you felt your cheeks get warm. Your rolled your eyes and sighed. Miles made himself comfortable against the end of the couch and Milo left space between them for you to sit there. You hesitated, but sat next to him. The smile he gave you was worth it.

He leaned against the back of the couch, and you mirrored him. He placed his arm on the top of the couch, around your shoulders. You wondered if he’d do the same if he was sober. He started to doze off, but you had to go home. “Milo,” you said softly, as to no startle either of them. Miles was fast asleep so you didn’t worry about him. Milo turned to you, sleepily. You smiled at him, enjoying how he looked. “I should go home.” You said, apologetically.

He scowled, pouting slightly. “Why?” He said, childishly. You laughed at that, throwing your head against the couch top (and inevitably, against his arm). “What do you mean why? It’s where I sleep!“ You said between laughs. He smiled, memorizing your laugh. “Sleep here.” He said, and went back to dozing off. You laughed softly, shaking your head. You started getting up, careful to not touch Miles. “Nah, I can’t. C’mon, gimme your keys.” You said, but Milo made no move to get up. Even more, he blocked your way out, smirking slightly. You rolled your eyes and turned around. “That’s cool, I’ll just get a chair-“ you said walking away but you weren’t able to get far because Milo grabbed you by the waist and brought you back down to the couch, making you lay down between his arms.

You tried to turn around or get out, embarrassed. “Milo!“ You cried out, flustered. He shushed you, tightening his arms around you. “I’ve been waiting too long to talk to you, I am not letting you go so easily.” He mumbled, and you felt his breath on the back of your ear. You sighed, feeling your cheeks burning. You relaxed into his embrace, processing what he said. “What do you mean by that?” You whispered, turning around a bit to look at him.

Now he was embarrassed. He buried his face in your head to hide it and you turned back, smiling. “I’ve been trying to get your attention this whole year. A bartender gave me a couple of shots to gain the courage.” He said, burying himself further into you. “It helped.” He said, smiling. You rolled your eyes and turned over to him, surprising him. “That’s stupid. Just talk to me next time, there’s no need for you to get wasted in order to do so.” You said, scowling at him. He laughed, changing your positions so you were resting your head on his chest, an arm around your waist and the other over his eyes, covering the light. “Ok, I’ll have it in mind for the next time, ma.” He said, dozing off.

You sighed, staring at him. This had been the weirdest night ever. You smiled, thinking that it was also the most fun you’ve had the whole year. You grabbed your phone to send your mother a quick text that you were staying over your friend’s and got comfortable in Milo’s arms, dozing off too.

Bonus:

Rio took the keys out her purse, explaining something that happened at her shift to Jeff, who was nodding at her, showing that he was paying attention. It was almost 5 AM and they were exhausted. After their shifts, they had decided to go out for dinner, their sons having a sleepover at their uncle’s. They were also excited, having the house for themselves. “And, so, this woman from urgencies, comes, verdad? She comes, yelling and panting, and-“ Rio stopped, standing over her entrance door.

Jeff looked at her, attentive. “What? What’s wrong, were we robbed?” Jeff looked around, trying to see if anything was missing. Rio just pointed at your heels, with a murderous look on her. “Jeff. Those are not mine.” Jeff looked at them, raising an eyebrow. He honestly couldn’t tell, Rio had many heels. She huffed angrily, going to the living room mumbling insults and prayers in Spanish with Jeff behind her, matching her energy.

She stopped in front of the couch, watching all three of you sleep. Miles was sprawled on one end of the couch, snoring loudly. Milo was on the other end, both of his hands around your waist as you were on top of him, resting your head on the crook of his neck. Both twins reeked of alcohol and Rio and Jeff noticed.

They crossed their arms, looking at you. “They are grounded.” Rio said, angrily. “Oh, for sure.” Jeff said, scoffing. “Until college.” Rio said. “Mhm.” Jeff agreed, matching his wife’s energy.

[thdramas2]

I was stalking and came across this post (757536924343943168) and I have a fun story that happened related to this. This is a little lengthy so I would get a snack or something.

I have this character who I clearly care about a LOT. To really get the full picture off how much I love this character: His page is decked tf out. He has a pettable page doll, its own css, and he's worth a little over 300 dollars bc of the og owner commissioning a lot of art of him (and since i dont have 300 dollars just laying around, i'm incredibly lucky to have this character for as cheap as the og owner let me get him for.) I love this character so much that I had a nightmare about somebody managing to transfer his character page to their th without me finding out.

I also have on my profile not to add characters to wishlists or anything unless they're in my sales folder, which I would assume would make somebody think; "Perhaps I shouldn't offer on this persons ocs either if they arent in a sales folder." but the absolute buffoon that I encountered did not think this way. They don't follow me, and they've never interacted with my page prior to this, so they would've seen the warning but clearly they didnt learn phonics. This motherfucker types on my character's page verbatim; "R they eo or what". Are you joking? Where are the cameras. Despite the person never knowing of my existence prior, they aren't just some random person. Because that isn't interesting, no, they're somebody who the og owner of this character commissioned on like 3 separate occasions.

Now, I would understand them asking this if I just got this character but I've owned him for a few months now. This character was up for offer in late April/early May. It is the ripe month of AUGUST. You had the opportunity to ask MONTHS ago, but you see that the person who owns him is clearly NOT the person who was accepting offers and you decide to ask if I'm eo.

For anybody curious; In the end, after telling my friends the absolute neanderthal I had the displeasure of interacting with, I just deleted the comment and updated my warning to include not to ask if i'm entertaining offers for characters that arent in sales because nobody on toyhouse knows how to use context when wanting to know if a character is accepting offers or nah. If they look to see why I havent responded and see the aftermath or if they manage to read this story and recognize the utter ridiculousness they've displayed they will realize they shouldn't waste my time.

This was my tale. Goodbye.

Damn.

[evilmagician430]

boyfriends but awesome (and instead of a webtoon its an independent webcomic)

design notes and 3ds flipnote concept art below the cut

general notes abt their designs and what the comic would be like in my head:

>they dont have names in this version cause i think that was one of the good things they did originally. i imagine they refer to eachother as "that one" "the other guy" etc like the dhmis guys when talking about eachother.

>they are not in a defined romantic relationship with eachother because i think thats more interesting, the polyamory aspect would be kept (im not polyamorous btw so im not gonna try to write an established polycule) but its more vague in that they all kind of have a thing for eachother but also hate eachother and want to rip eachothers guts out. and theyre all roommates and bffs. if you asked them what they were the answer you would get would be "friends who are boys". they are the height of male friendship, hate, love, etc.

>instead of focusing on sexualizing them in strange ways and doing boring moe shit it would lean into the comedy aspect BUT NO MEMES OR LATE 2010S SLANG !! this was something i could not fucking stand when reading the original (if you couldnt tell by now i did used to read boyfriends. it was a regrettable time and in redesigning and overhauling them i hope to make something good out of this wasted period of my life) like even when it was current boyfriends always made memes feel.. out of place. like as soon as they said it it wasnt cool anymore. it was the unfunniest shit ever

>i wanted the characters to look less WHITE and also more distinct from eachother and also less young cause in the original its like the same twink 3 times in different haircolors and their Chad. said chad is the best character only by way of not being annoying. so yeah i'll be more specific later but none of them are white and i gave them all different eye and nose shapes and distinct physical traits and bodies etc.

>mostly i just did this cause the "nerd" and "goth" ones piss me off so bad like thats not real. thats not a nerd thats just a nondescript waify femboy with glasses. thats not a goth, thats a tiktok eboy. and i felt bad for jock being trapped in this comic. and the prep one i feel nothing towards hes the most accurate to gay preps irl because they really are that annoying. but i tried to make him a little interesting atleast. anyways

nerd - black, brony, always aggressively corrects the others when they state an incorrect fact, really into playstation eyetoy and obscure playstation games. insanely autistic. usually pissed off if hes not indulging himself in something he likes (yaoi, games, ponies, figures, etc). i just wanted to overhaul him completely to make him almost nothing like refrainbow's nerd because nerd type characters are always the ones i tend to see myself in and are my favorites but reading the webtoon that guy just pissed me off fr.

jock - 2nd gen chinese american, one of the things i liked in the original actually was when they sexualized the jock (probably cause hes the only one who doesnt look 14 in that comic) and his big tits. hes a very genuinely kind guy, not the brightest, has a voracious appetite, he also still bakes cause thats cute i think.

prep - he looks different here because i was originally going to make him white but i decided to make him a light/medium skintone black guy (he just wears a blonde wig and contacts). when companies make their pride month merchandise and advertisements this is the exact person they imagine in their head who is going to buy these products. hes a million percent one of those swifties who thinks taylor swift is secretly a lesbian. trust fund kid btw obviously. his only redeeming quality is that hes good at makeup. jokes in the comic are usually made at his expense.

goth - 1st gen latino american, specifically peruvian because i am a self serving motherfucker. hes a really big numetal fan and listens to like 2000s evil wolf amv music in addition to legitimate gothic. his face changed a little too between this and the final design. his outfit completely changed but its only because i realized everyone else was dressed for relatively warm weather so it wouldnt make sense for him to be wearing multiple layers of black. if i do cold weather outfits for them id def reuse this look for him. hes still trans but i think all of them are in my version. also they dont use labels for their sexual/rom orientation. except prep hes homosexual gay.

congratulations for reaching the end of this incomprehensible bullshit 👍 hope someone enjoys this but idrc if its just for me either

[roomofshroom]

kyman headcanons part 2 !!!! SFW (cartman oriented!!!)

since yall liked my kyman headcanons so much i thought id give it another try and write down sum more ! :D

part 1: here

cartman would plan little fucking schemes to see if kyle really loves him (text him from a fake instagram profile, pay a girl to make a move on him, shit like that)

motherfucker craves attention so much, so he like pretends he's sick or dying or that something really serious happened to see if kyle comes running to him

kyle quickly realizes this is not a one time thing and is really annoyed w him but manages to come running everytime cartman pulls something like this, eric always treats him with a big smile when hes at the doorstep ("you came! :D " "ofc i came you said ur fucking mom was dying?! where is she?" "oh she just went shopping" "so you made it up?! you know how fucked up that is?!" "technically, my mom IS dying, we are ALL dying every second of every day ever since we were born, kHAL...")

cartman uses like an unhealthy ammount of emojis in every message, sends shit ton of tiktoks, reels, youtube shorts and has a completely different types of conversations w kyle on every social media platform all at once (like on instagram he's venting to him about how he doesnt feel appreciated enough by the world while hes sending him memes on discord and streaming himself playing fall guys or smth i dont fucking know)

kyle's style of texting is very simple, he doesnt like long messages, he doesnt really send memes or tiktoks or anything but he religiously watches everything eric sends him, responds to him asap and writes medium sized messages with emojis because cartman is super fucking clingy and goes on a rampage if kyle doesnt respond for more than 3 hours or if his response isn't "enthusiastic" enough (*eric sends a meme of cats with a "this is so us" comment* kyle: <3 eric: do you hate me? kyle: no wtf i dont??? why? eric: idk just seems like you hate me)

cartman hangs out w kyle's mom and makes kyle's mom unknowingly share embarrassing details of kyle's life just to tease him w the information later, they also look through baby pictures together

eric and kyle's mom love gossiping together and they watch say yes to dress together and critique the dresses ("the mermaid style dress with HER LEGS!? i thought she'd wanna show them off!" "yes, such a shame, wasted potential")

sometimes cartman just goes to kyle's house solely to hang out with his mom ("oh hey cartman, i wont be able to hang out today, i need to-" "no worries, I'm here to watch tlc w your mom")

cartman's love language is words of affirmation, obviously, and he makes kyle say everything he loves about him at least twice a week as a "communication exercise, so that their relationship stays good and they both feel appreciated" (its honestly just a way for eric to get praised, he loveeees that shit)

he knows kyle's love lang is acts of service (hes known him for years, kyle didnt even need to tell him) so while he's at his house he'll wash the dishes and fold his clothes but he won't admit to it, he actually hides it and feels embarrassed, kyle just knows ("hey, did you clean my room while i was downstairs?" "no?" "look, its clear you did, just say so" "i don't fucking know what you're talking about, khal" "...thank you, eric" "...shut the fuck up, jew, as if I'd touch your dirty ass room")

cartman's actually very shy with showing affection when its just two of them and when kyle says something sweet unprovoked, cartman usually blushes and shuts him down, turns it into a joke or straight up ridicules kyle ("you're actually very pretty, cartman" "yeah, you're pretty too... pretty gay, HAHA")

kyle's shy with showing affection in front of others and cartman fucking takes that and runs with it sometimes, doing everything to make kyle uncomfortable, he's being all lovey dovey infront of kenny and stan to see kyle cringe internally and awkwardly smiling on the outside to 'not seem like a bad boyfriend' (cuz when he once couldn't take it and told cartman to shut the fuck up, cartman got fake sad and stan came to kyle afterwards and gave a speech about "sometimes having to put up with stuff you don't like to make your girl, uhm sorry, to make your... significant other happy")

[theambivalentagender]

I love your comic!! What inspired you to share Zekes story?

There's a lot to this answer so buckle up.

I've always been a writer, ever since I was a little kid telling stories has been my entire life's goal. But its been a struggle, and for a long time I've felt kinda lost in trying to survive taking soul sucking desk jobs. It honestly destroyed any desire I had to create.

And then at the beginning of 2022 I got abruptly fired (for what I don't think are honest reasons but that's another story). And then I found myself just not being able to land a new job no matter what I did - I worked in a tech-adjacent industry and know others in similar positions also have had these issues. Weeks turned into months, and my mental health took a nosedive.

That summer I noticed one of my long time close friends kept popping up on steam playing Stardew Valley at odd hours in the morning. I'd heard of the game before, I loved farming sims, and I really needed a distraction. So I finally bought it.

Long story short, several hours into the game this motherfucker hits me up with this line:

So you can imagine what that did to my psyche. I got so god damn invested in the game. Like I do with any game, I started modding the crap out of it, mostly to add more lines for Shane. And then I found myself imagining my own little story with my farmer.

For a good while this was just a dumb headcanon story I had every time I played Stardew. But then I found myself actually plotting things out, connecting different aspects of SDV that were "unexplained" or "implied" with the story I was developing in my head. And then I realized - I was making a story again. I was feeling the exact same way I used to feel when I would plan out and write a play, or a short story, or one of my many unfinished novels. It was such a good feeling, and I started coming around to the idea that I shouldn't just keep this story in my head.

I dealt with a lot of self doubt over it of course. The last time I wrote anything like fanfiction was when I was 10 and it was a HP fanfic where I misspelled Slytherin in five different ways. Some part of me felt like it would be wasting time because I wouldn't make money off of it. Another part of me worried I'd be mocked for writing an entire self-indulgent story about a borderline self-insert character romancing a grumpy pixel man, when I was nearly 30 living in an apartment with a long term partner and shouldn't be doing such *childish things*.

I lurked around the SDV fandom for a long time before actually posting anything, and seeing other people, often people close to my own age, doing exactly what I was afraid of because fuck it, we're adults and we get to decide what that means, really helped. It also helped to see a positive community praising and supporting creators of all skill levels.

As for the money thing, I ended up "justifying" it to myself that if I made myself draw just about every day working on the comic (since I had decided to make it a comic rather than a fanfic), that would help me bring my art skills up to par with my writing skills. And, well, it would probably help my mental health if I had something productive to work on while I still looked for a job, because there's only so many times you can rotate between various video games.

I honestly didn't expect the comic to get as much attention as it has. But I told myself even if nobody cared about it, I'd make it for the one person who wanted to see this story play out - me.

[ruubric]

The Upside of The Unrequited

warnings: swearing, a tinsy bit of suggestive language, unrequited love

summary done badly: Mitsuya is in love with you, but you're dating Pah. Told from Mitsuya's perspective.

irrelevant fact: a shrimp's heart is in its head

"Damn, that's a sexy dress," the girl mumbles out loud, staring at the beautiful bride to be on the TV, wearing a skin tight v-neck wedding dress. "Her mom might actually kill her. Do you see her eyes practically bulging out of her face right now?" She snickers.

I scoff, "it's not that great. I can see fraying seams from here."

She nudges my elbow, "nah, bitch. This is some fine work here. Look at the gems. The glitter. The sparkles."

I give her a look, her brown skin looks almost pale in the ghoulish blue light coming from the TV in the dark room. She looks so invested as she stuffs her face with pretzels. "You do know that there's more to designing clothes than just gems and glitter and..." I mock shudder, "sparkles, right?"

"Maybe to you, mister jaded-designer. But I want to sparkle like a motherfucking firework at my wedding." She hesitates for a moment, "y'know, if I ever do get married."

Right. The younger woman has been dating our mutual friend, Pah, for years now... with no sign of proposal anywhere in sight. She would've done it herself, naturally, but Pah hasn't exactly made it clear the direction in which the relationship is heading in. Also due to us all being in a literal gang, novelties like weddings and starting families are a fucking dream for people like us. We can't risk doing that shit, some people could die or get hurt.

It still doesn't make it any less painful though.

I've always wondered if she regrets helping us found Toman when we were younger... Maybe if she hadn't, she'd have a real job, and family, and would've gone to college to be a music teacher like she really wanted.

I look at her. She's also deep in thought, nervously biting her lip and tapping out a rhythm on the pretzel bowl. Damn it. I hate seeing her like this.

"Well, maybe...*when* you do get married... I'll make the wedding dress for you," I grin at her.

She perks up, like a sunflower in the middle of a sunrise. "Yeah?"

"Mhmm," I nod.

"Can it not be white though?"

I splutter playfully, even though it actually hurts to hear her even insinuate getting physical with Pah... or with anyone else that isn't me. "What? Are you trying to tell me something, young lady?"

"Nooo," the girl cutely wrinkles her studded nose at me. "I just think a white dress is boring as hell. I wanna wear something different."

"But still with gems and glitter?" I raise an eyebrow in amusement.

"And sparkles. Never forget the sparkles," she points at me with a big beam. Before giggling, "what do ya think, mister designer man? Can you do that?"

I lock eyes with her big brown ones, that look to me so damn earnestly. That I remember years ago, in a similar moment: watching shitty reality shows and eating snacks on her couch at her parents' house, how we looked into each other's eyes... And I was going to tell her that I had fallen in love with her.

Only for her to admit her crush on Pah. The tip to the triangle.

I remember how she giggled and covered her face when she told me, practically gurgling like a drain. I remember feeling my heart being ripped from my chest because I knew Pah felt the same... I mean, sure he wasn't giggling and gushing, but he sure as fuck was blushing and stuttering.

I remember how Baji and Kazutora gave me sympathetic looks when I told them about what had learnt that day.

"Who needs girls, right? They're a waste of time anyway," Baji had said in an attempt to cheer me up.

"Baji, she's literally our friend," Kazutora had pointed out. "And... I mean, she is really hot--"

"You're not helping!" Baji snapped.

He had been right that day, Baji. Who needs girls? I certainly didn't, all I needed was her. The foreign girl, who spoke cutely broken Japanese and had hair that curled around her face like a woven halo.

Of course, the two got together soon after. And my heart died a little every time I saw them exchange secret glances during meetings, every time I saw them link pinkies and whenever she rode on the back of his bike.... I couldn't help but wish it was me she was pressed against, and wrapping her arms around.

Their skinship was always very subtle... which convinced me that Pah knew about my feelings, which sucked. I wanted him to be happy without thinking about me.

Because at the end of the day, they were still both my friends, and I wanted them to be happy.

And still do.

In the current day, I flash her a weak smile. "Of course I can, what do you take me for?"

She beams and turns back to the TV. "What about a strawberry printed dress?"

I snort, "you're going to a wedding, not your fifth birthday party."

She stuffs some more pretzels in her mouth, "now, that would be a valid excuse if I wasn't talking to Takashi Mitsuya."

"Huh?" "You can make anything look good."

I look at her. In her bonnet and oversized shirt with mustard stains down the front. And yet... she still looks like an absolute goddess. "Ditto," is all I whisper out.

She turns to me, her eyes shining in the light of the TV, big and earnest, and her lips shape to say something.

But her words are lost to the click that signals the opening of the door.

"Babe, I'm home."

It's Pah.

I quickly get off the couch, she looks a little taken aback as she distractedly calls back: "yeah, I'm in the living room."

Pah peaks in, seeing me, he smiles: "hey, Mitsuya."

"H-hey, Pah."

"Are you staying for dinner--?"

"No. I have... I have to do something, so I should go."

The pair both blink at me in unison. "Oh...uh, okay."

That night, I ride all over town, simply trying to clear my head. I guess that was the something I had to do.

####

"So... this is it, huh?" Draken asks from his place on the chair, looking up at the strawberry pink dress that I had spent months working on.

I take a step back and look at the dress in the middle of my studio.

The soft delicate cloud skirt of the dress cascades to the floor is paired with the strength of a strapped corset. There is a lace sleeve to the left that plays with symmetry a bit, and ends in a fingerless glove style. I had made a belt that looked like a golden arrow curved around her waist (her weapon of choice) and of course, the dress had its fair share of glitter, making it shimmer even under the dim lights of the studio.

"Yup."

I feel Draken cast me a cool look, "how long did you work on it?"

"An embarrassingly long time for someone who doesn't love me back," I say nonchalantly though tears prick at my eyes.

"So you knew Pah was going to propose?"

"He would've done it eventually." I shrug, "he's not that much of an idiot."

Draken stands and pats my back comfortingly. "If it's any consolation, she's gonna love it when you show it to her tonight."

I nod.

And that mere action shakes the tears and whispers out of my body.

[fruitzbat]

There is this bizarre mischaracterization problem with Kingsley in the CR fandom that I think shows a certain level of contempt for the character himself — and honestly, I think it’s really revealing about a troubling hallmark of conditional support of nonbinary people in real life, which I find beyond hypocritical given…well, let’s get into it.

For starters, I'm not bothering with leaving a disclaimer about how not all fans do xyz or why I think that anyone should listen to me over anyone else. We’re adults here, we should know that things are nuanced by now. I also think talking about my own qualifications here is silly and masturbatory given that this is fandom and I'm very much doing it for free along with almost everyone else, so I'm not gonna waste the space.

Getting into the exceptions and such is well beyond the scope of this post, and I frankly don't think anything I say in this will convince anyone of anything — I just need to get it out there. If any of does change your mind, great! Icing on the cake.

*eyes glowing* anyway,

Given the admittedly considerable amount of work I do relating to his character, I wade through Kingsley's character tag a lot, and in many different places. On here, on Twitter, on AO3, his tag is full to the gills of bits of people writing stories in which he steals up to a certain member of the Nein and showers them with gifts and forehead kisses and...for lack of a better term, 'Mollyisms', and lays there enraptured while they talk about their relationship with Molly — who, obviously, is him. He's called "circus man" and is unbothered by it; it's testimony to the fact that this person and Kingsley have a history that transcends silly things like death.

Thus, the general depiction of Kingsley within the fandom is one that is not unlike Molly's, if not a 1:1 replica: a fun-loving, carefree libertine whose sun often rises at a certain other member of the Nein's forehead and sets are their toenails. He's curious about his past lives, but sees minimal distinction between them and himself.

And that's utter motherfucking hogwash.

The thing is, Kingsley's not an act II of Molly. He’s arguably a very different person from Molly, and the drift in Molly’s canon and fanon depiction is an essay on its own (not to mention the shift in perception in-universe, also brilliant and fascinating in its own right).

And I sincerely want us to think about that oversight in the same vein as if there were a considerable amount of Critters making content about, say, Beauregard Lionett falling in love with a man when she's explicitly a lesbian. Like, to me, it is that dire. And I will explain why that is momentarily: once I finish talking about who he actually is, and one of the principal culprits that I blame for this schism.

"But fruitzbat," some people might cry. "But fruitzbat, we have so little to go on. He's hardly shown himself on stream and he does, in the end, come from Molly!"

To that I would reply "skill issue," because Kingsley very much has distinguished himself from his siblings. Fandoms have extrapolated way more about a character with far less in the past. I didn't live through Superwholock on this website for anyone to tell me that they can't pull a fully-fledged character out of one episode of something. With all due respect, git gud.

Kingsley is a hustler and a cutthroat. He's driven, micro-managey — like, PAINFULLY Type-A, and interested in staying alive and making a name for himself; but in contradiction with this sense of self-preservation, he’s also ready to impulsively give himself up for a greater good and/or "make new mistakes", which can be read as altruistic at its best and unhealthy and self-deprecating at its worst (a trait which he definitely shares with Molly). In commenting on his new outfit, I’ve shitposted in the past that Kingsley is frum, but it's really not that far off. He doesn't like to leave things to chance, and also strongly believes in taking care of his own — he notably takes excellent care of the Nein Heroez’s crew. He doesn't suffer fools, he's snarky (too many examples to list them all, but have a few of my favorites), and also thoughtful and analytical and a skeptic. And most of all, he’s eager to learn and curious — not just about Molly and Lucien, but in general.

He jokes about being Lucien at one point, but makes it very clear that it's not him when people in his life make that slip-up. He's also been making the point that he’s not either of them as early as the campaign finale. And within the special, too, it’s pretty unambiguous. And then there’s Taliesin himself, also making it very clear that he’s a separate animal and on top of that, that he’s an absolute fucking badass.

And as mentioned, it's true that there's overlap with some of Molly's business — he's theatrical and loves fashion, for instance. But honestly, this character has far more in common with Lucien than he does with Molly. Lucien, who spoke multiple languages and lead a mercenary group into Aeor and back multiple times. Lucien, who even the mere prospect of him being resurrected was enough to reassemble the Tombtakers. If that’s not the makings of a Plank King, I’m not sure what would be.

And here's another thing: "Kingsley came from Molly" in and of itself is a misnomer. Based on both the stream and the addendum from the Lucien novel, Kingsley is mostly the reforged soul of Lucien — Molly's soul fragment was reintegrated into the rest of Lucien's. Kingsley is what was born from that fusion. When interceding on the failed Raise Dead spell, Caduceus said "put it back...whoever it was." There's just as much potential to say that it was Lucien's soul returned to that purple body by Melora as it was Molly's.

In all candor, I think it has a good deal to do with how many vocal Molly fans wanted Widomauk to be canon or somehow endgame.

The inherent tragedy of the dynamic between Caleb and Molly is that there is a constant specter of what could have been. Neither encountered each other when they were at a point to pursue their attraction, and Molly was dead before anything could come to pass. As a passive observer, I think that this what could have been has bled into the fanon interpretation of all kinds of purple tiefling content, mostly because there's so little to analyze otherwise. One only has to glance at the tags for the Lucien novel or the Molly origin comic to see what I mean. And I think that this has also significantly impacted the fanon depiction of Kingsley.

I find that this fandom in particular has a huge problem with sacrificing characterization in the name of fanon archetypes and tropes, but due to the distinct nature of Kingsley’s character this can veer into…I mean, pretty ugly territory.

People love the reincarnated lovers trope, and I see that applied here the most, to which I always want to remind people that Kingsley is probably more like a joined Trill. He has these past lives and memories, but just like Ezri isn’t quite Jadzia isn’t quite Kurzon Dax, Kingsley isn’t Molly isn’t Lucien. Ezri didn’t hop up and get busy with Worf, even when Jadzia had been his wife. Far from it, actually. Similarly, Jadzia had an entire exploratory episode dedicated to encountering Kurzon’s spouse and deciding that she (regretfully for lesbians everywhere) felt differently.

It’s true that it’s not completely baseless; I’m genuinely not saying that. It’s true that one of the first things King did was flirt with Caleb when he woke up. And then when he’d come more into his own, there was all that wild talk they had during the…

Oh wait, that’s right. They didn’t speak one on one even once during the reunion. So the argument could easily be made that in the chunk of the stream that showed us the most about who King was as a person, he didn’t touch Caleb with a thirty-nine and a half foot pole. Meaning that at this point in time, the basis of the ship is predominately Caleb’s relationship to his elder siblings.

I don't have time and ultimately have no interest in unpacking that in terms of it being solid foundations for a romantic relationship — we all can read, baruch hashem — and will also assume that there’s content about that dynamic that explores that weirdness with all the complexity that it deserves. But my central point here is that I’m seeing vanishingly little of it, and far more of it being used in a way that denies Kingsley his own identity. The point isn't hating on a ship. Widoking in and of itself is fine, the point is that people aren't actually shipping Kingsley with Caleb. They're shipping him with someone wearing the skin of his dead older brother.

Which brings me to my next point...

I find this aspect to be incredible given the extraordinary way that this campaign explores trans identity and narrative. Plenty of other folks have written about the extent that campaign 2’s focus on identity as a theme has resulted In one of the most comprehensive studies of several different types of trans stories. Like, VETH?!?

BEAU?!?! Not to mention FJORD’S UNRELENTING T-BOY SWAG?!?!?!

And yet.

And, yes, it is that deep. Let me explain.

Molly and Lucien are canonically genderfluid. Kingsley hasn't come out as anything yet, so the jury is still out... though many people, myself included, headcanon that he's some flavor of not cis.

For me, this is because Kingsley’s narrative is arguably more a traditional trans one than Lucien or Molly's: being born with the expectation that he would be one thing, then coming to his family — who hold that expectation quite dearly — and asserting that he is someone and something else completely different from that. Lucien and Molly are trans characters, no doubt, but their stories are not about being transgender. And there is an intrinsic quality to King's that definitely is.

The notion of "trans narrative" is also something applied to someone like Nott/Veth, even in a world where transness is not stigmatized. So while transphobia is not a thing as we understand it in Exandria, that doesn't change that Kingsley “came out” and transitioned in a more recognizable way to us than Lucien or Molly ever had to — in the same light as Veth arguably struggling with her self-image in a way that many trans viewers find exceedingly familiar.

If we can apply the queer critical lens and think of Fjord being a trans guy deconstructing toxic ideas of masculinity, or of Beau being a trans girl dealing with transphobic parents that wanted a son, got one, and cast her aside, we can also use that same level of discernment when it comes to Kingsley. There's precedent.

I don’t mean to get personal here, but the flat out dismissal of Kingsley's identity as an individual and not as the sum of other parts reminds me so much of my own experience of having come out as non-binary and then telling people that I was going to start HRT. The support dried up almost immediately the minute I made it clear I wanted to switch pronouns again and pursue medical transition, though I still conceived of myself as effectively genderless.

So long as you’re fun and funky and trans in a way that isn’t obtrusive, it’s fine. Well, “fine” isn’t the right word, but people are so fucking terrified of you becoming one of “those” trans people and taking the scary hormones and changing your body and getting the surgeries. It's the cousin of that perennial TERF talking point of "why can't you just be a tomboy/effeminate gay guy". As if being a tomboy/fem guy is somehow easier, too!! But I digress. To a lot of folks, Kingsley can be whatever he wants..........so long as he doesn't reject Molly as a foundational part of him, if not the, and heaven help him if he diverges from the mold Molly left for him.

For this reason (and for other transgender reasons that I don't want to get into), that has made engaging with a lot of this faux-Kingsley content difficult. Because Kingsley came out! Kingsley has told everyone who he is and what he's about, and folks are ignoring that in favor of an interpretation that centers a different person's existence entirely. And with this coming from a group of fans that tends to trend towards being trans, too, that's quite the bitter pill.

Creatively, I firmly believe that people can do whatever they want forever. And everyone has the right to make content where their Barbies scissor. I, for one, also am 100% guilty of it in other contexts. That doesn't bother me.

What does bother me is a collective delusion where a significant chunk of the fandom, in missing their tragically dead non-binary character, effectively stuff a separate one that resembles him back into the closet without noticing the cruelty of doing so. In fact, relishing in it.

And while these people are fictional and aren't real and can't feel pain aside from what we inflict on them narratively, it gives me pause about the way this trend mirrors common transphobic behavior I have experienced as a non-binary person myself. Thus, I cannot possibly watch it happen and not feel compelled to say something about it.

In essence, Kingsley has told us time and time again who he is and what he's about. If we say as fans that we respect the narrative integrity of Campaign 2, I think it's important that we listen and honor that.