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autisticlancemcclain · 4 months

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The ship was shaking like a kid holding a goldfish bag.

It was not, in case you were wondering, a good time.

Keith grit his teeth, planting his boots on the ground and half-walking half-climbing over to Allura, who was paler than Keith had ever seen her. The grip she had on her podium was tight enough to drain the blood completely from her knuckles. Despite his own fear, Keith’s heart softened for her.

“How is it looking?” he asked, shouting over the noise of a thousand asteroids and a million laser strikes. All while their lions sat, drained of quintessence, locked in their hangars

One goddamn thing after another. Jesus.

“It is looking bad,” Allura shouted, not taking her eyes off the space in front of her. “I can’t – Coran, I can’t hold it on my own!”

Coran looked back at her grimly. He had probably the most success keeping upright – seriously, was it posture or did he have a steel rod anchored to his back at all times – but even he was struggling against the whipping and shuddering of the massive castleship, attention focused on the controls. Trying to keep the shield up as well as possible, trying to get their own defenses running. Trying, as always, to keep the castle going, even when the odds were a million to nothing.

“You can,” he encouraged. The effect was less encouraging when a massive asteroid hit the side of the bridge point-blank, throwing him right off the controls and splat into the walls. Despite Lance and Allura’s cries of alarm, he made a startlingly dignified crawl back to the deck controls.

Hell of a man, that advisor.

He continued once he was steady, sweat beading on his brow but gaze soft and assuring. He waited for Allura to meet his eyes, then nodded, once. “Focus, girl. Hands on the spheres. Mind cool on the exhale. However we need to get out of this – you can guide us. Make your decision. Your team is behind you.”

“Yeah!” Pidge cheered, lifting her fist in emphasis from where Shiro held her steady, eyes trained on her computer screen. Blaring red lines of code Keith could not pretend to read flashing rapid speed in front of her, and she typed back at it just as fast, keeping their crackling systems at bay. “You got this!”

Allura breathed out. The tense line of her shoulders softened, just slightly, despite the ongoing chaos. She lifted her hands and rested them, gently, on the podium spheres as Coran instructed. They glowed.

“We retreat,” she decided, nodding to herself. “We’re already low on quintessence, standing to fight will drain us dangerously. We must get to safety if we are to survive with our home intact.” She bit her lip, eyes opening. “But, uh, full disclosure, I have enough strength in me to open a wormhole and that is About It. I will be out of commission the moment it closes.”

Hunk shrugged. “We’ll catch you, then.”

“Try not to wormhole us into a black hole,” Shiro suggested, smiling slightly. “We’ll manage anything else, Princess.”

She laughed slightly, thankfully, but within seconds called out for everyone to brace themselves. Keith did as she heeded, or he tried to – but the castle got hit as he tried to crawl back to his seat, sprawling him on the floor. He glanced over at Allura, panicked, but her eyes were already glowing, and the space in front of them was already starting to warp. He swallowed roughly, squeezing his eyes shut. The floor was shaking too badly for him to get his bearings. He couldn’t get his feet under him, couldn’t stand, couldn’t dream to crawl to his seat. He stilled, resigning himself – he didn’t know exactly what would happen if he wasn't strapped down and protected during a wormhole jump, but it couldn’t be good. He had to hope for the best.

“God,” sighed a voice to his left, “you’d die without me, Dropout.”

A hand clenched the back of his jacket and yanked, pulling him tumbling onto another body. Quick as lightning a seatbelt was stretched over him, clicking into place just as the space in front of the castle finally warped, bright blue, and the entire bridge lit up so bright Keith was blind with it.

When the light finally died down, Keith was half-convinced nothing had changed. The castle stopped shaking, but instead it was plummeting, hard and fast, controls dead and energy gone, towards the surface of a planet.

“Someone catch Allura!” Coran shouted, and on queue the princess’ eyes rolled up in her head and she slumped forward. Luckily, Hunk had been more prepared than the rest of them, seatbelt already off and arms extended to catch her. He carried her back to her seat, buckling her in carefully, and strapping himself in next to her. Wise move – trying to crawl back to his own seat, fighting against the G-forces, would be near impossible.

There was a click, and then a shove, and then Keith got to feel those G-forces firsthand.

“What the hell!” he demanded, barely managing to catch himself on the arm of the blue paladin’s seat. “I coulda brained myself!”

Lance shrugged, playing for innocent, but a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. Keith could’ve strangled him. “What? Thought I’d let you get back to your own chair. You're welcome for saving you, by the way.”

“Some saving, jerk! We're still falling!”

“Yeah. Personally, I would find somewhere to buckle up.”

“You’re so annoying,” Keith growled, and it was by spite alone that he managed to stomp back to his own seat and buckle himself in. He was bright red, anger making him hot – Lance always made him like this, so furious he could barely blink. One day they’d be making progress, working together like a dream, wiping the floor together, and the next it was like a switch was flipped. Like Lance was reminding himself that he and Keith could never get along. It was ridiculous, and Keith couldn’t for the life of him understand it. Was he so bad?

“Incoming!” Pidge shouted, shaking Keith back to himself. Her screen was now linked up with Coran’s, the only two things on in the entire castle – electronics seemed to come alive when Pidge touched them – and diagrams of the castle systems were blaring red, flashing with symbols Keith didn’t know, but recognised as bad. “The nav and power systems are down! It’s not safe to get anyone back there to force them back on manually, but I think I can get steering up in a sec. Shiro, I need your arm for power. Hunk, keep on Allura, make sure she’s upright when we crash, we don’t want a spinal injury. Lance, Keith, I’m turning steering over to you guys. Don’t fuck it up.”

Despite their bickering, both of them nodded. Neither of them particularly wanted to be turned into paladin pancake anytime soon, so they could collaborate for one thing.

Seconds after Pidge spoke, a screen flickered to life in front of Keith. Stats blinked back up, glitching rapidly as they translated themselves into words and symbols Keith could understand. The hologram shifted and expanded to its usual 3D model, joystick in the middle, thrusters and controls to his left, a screen with Lance’s comm line to his right. In his little screen, Lance met his eyes, eyebrows raised in question. Keith nodded. Together, they wrapped their hands around the joysticks, breathed out, and let their minds fuse.

As always, it was a freaky feeling. Imagine the weird, shuddery feeling you get when you say the same thing as someone at the same time, voices layering, tone mixing, for a moment your own voice and the voice of a stranger synching into one. The weird, deja-vu-but-not of it, the uncanny valley feel of recognising your own voice but…different.

Then multiply that freakiness by a hundred, and you still won’t quite get it.

On some levels Keith was aware that he was his own person. He knew his name, knew his hands, knew his history – or well, some of it. Nothing about himself had changed.

But at the same time, he was also Lance Esposita-McClain. He knew his name, knew his hands, knew his history, more of it than he could ever get from shared stories or mind melds. There’s no telling the way your sister’s arm feels hooked around your neck for the sixth noogie in as many minutes. There’s no explaining the way your breathing only gets calm with your feet in the saltwater. There’s no describing the curve of your mother’s smile. Nothing Keith was seeking out – no memories he would even know to look for – but they were there, simmering, triggered by a smell or the crook of his finger in a particular way. Memories stored in the body and the soul and the senses, not in the brain, shared when two consciousnesses become one.

Lance’s mind was hyperspecific. It complemented Keith’s well, with all his flitting, quick detail-oriented observance. As Keith jumped from angle to angle, noticing the planet’s curve, the pull of its gravity, the heat of its atmosphere, Lance zeroed in on an island, one of the only ones big enough for them to land. While Keith kept their craft in control, steering along the air currents, Lance kept them directed, single-minded focus on a stretch of rocky beach – not exactly a soft landing, but not a lot of living things for them to destroy when they crash. (Keith would’ve chosen to land in the meadow. Crushing frogs and bugs or whatever is never something on his top priority list of things to avoid. But he didn’t argue when Lance nudged them towards what is about to be a very bumpy landing.)

“Brace yourself!” he shouted, not daring to look away to make sure his friends were buckled. Trusting that they were, he held his position, letting them plummet, coming closer and closer to splatting on the planet’s surface before finally yanking on the joystick as hard as he could. He felt Lance’s strength twist and tangle with his own, and together the two of them levelled the castle almost parallel with the ground, letting them glide on their own velocity until they slowed down enough to let the bottom of the craft brush against the rocky outcrop.

It was the most turbulent landing Keith has ever felt, except maybe that time he and Lance crashed blindfolded into a sand dune, and every bump on the ground gave him whiplash. When the castle finally hit the ground for good, dragging them a gauge in the ground for several miles as friction finally slowed it to a stop, the leftover inertia yanked Keith forward so roughly the buckles of his seatbelt made something crack in his ribcage. When the castle finally stopped he got slammed back into his chair so hard he was almost surprised he didn’t fall right through the impenetrable material.

It took a minute for everything to hit. His connection with Lance had been severed the second they hit the ground, too focused on being, y’know, crashed to keep holding on. After the shock of being tossed around like dice in a cup wore off, which did not take long, Keith’s body made it very clear that yeah, no, armour actually only does so much, and crash landing is one of those things that’s just bound to hurt. His skull pounded. At least one of his ribs was most definitely cracked. His wristed and knuckles ached from the strain of holding up the entire weight of the castle as he’d steered it. He was alive, obviously, but – Jesus. Being alive sucked.

“Sound off,” croaked Shiro from somewhere left of him.

“Ugh,” groaned Pidge. “Screw you, Keith, I hate it when you drive.”

“Next time I’ll be sure to let us crash,” Keith responded flatly.

“Um, you did, bozo, I asked you to land us –”

“The castle was dead! What did you expect me to –”

“Allura and I are both fine,” Hunk interrupted. Amusement lined his voice. “She’s still out, but she’s breathing fine, and I didn’t let her hit anything on impact. She should still get checked out, though.”

“Roger that,” Coran agreed. “Ease your worries, Number Two, you did well. I will have her in the MedBay as soon as our systems are up and running again.”

“Oh, whew, that’s a relief, because I didn’t want to say anything but she kinda jammed her elbow into my sternum by accident and I’m not blaming her or anything since she’s unconscious but I think my spleen may be a little dead, not a huge deal I’m sure but –”

“Everyone quiet!” barked Shiro. “That’s six accounted for! Who’s missing?”

Immediately, heart pounding, Keith whipped to his right. His stomach dropped. The Blue Lion Command Chair was empty – seatbelt torn somewhere on the shoulder, cracked helmet overturned carelessly on the seat. The crisp blue and white lines were marred by a small splash of red. Panic clawed its way up Keith’s throat, and he was out of his seat before he could register unbuckling his own straps, looking frantically around the bridge.

“He’s here somewhere,” Pidge fretted, “he couldn’t’ve just disappeared –”

Coran had a gloved hand clenched in his hair. “The windows and walls should be almost impenetrable, there is no way the crash broke them enough to let someone in –”

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck –”

“Guys,” a soft voice interrupted, and Keith could’ve collapsed with relief. The castle has been flipped sideways during the fall, floor suddenly now 90 degrees, and standing at the side of the control board, now the very high top, was Lance. For whatever reason he had climbed it while they bickered, and now stood very still, gloved hand pressed to the glass of the windshield. Blood trickled from his temple, tracing a line down the side of his face, disappearing in the neckline of his armour. “We got company.”

Shifting gears – Keith was about to tear him a new one, when Shiro says sound off you sound off – but froze when he looked out the window, following Lance’s gaze.

Marching towards them, in numbers Keith couldn’t pretend to count, was an army.

— — —

part two

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halevren · 4 months

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I'm going to be sappy real quick. It's almost been a month since I've joined tumblr and it's gotta be the best decision I've ever made. I've met some some incredible people and made a few lovely mutuals. I have yet to make like. Actual friends (dming is scary but I want to chat with people so badly. DMs are OPEN pls talk to me) but I feel like I've found a place where I really belong.

It's so nice to post about fantasy high or figayda specifically and have people agree and understand what I'm talking about. I don't have any friends into dimension 20, or dropout in general, so having a place where I don't feel annoying talking about something is so nice!

Thank you. Thank you to the figayda fans who enjoy the scenarios I write (especially the worm figayda post, you guys love that one). Thank you to the fantasy high fans who interact. And just thank you to you all for being so welcoming and accepting. I love it here. And I love you, my dear fellow tumblr users. This experience has been incredible so far <3

#sappy #sappy post #fantasy high #d20 #dimension 20 #d20 fantasy high #dropout #dropout.tv #figayda

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bullet-prooflove · 10 months

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The Beauty of the End Part 5: History - Michael 'Riz' Ariza x Reader

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life, @danzer8705 @mysoulisasunflower @vannabanana1995 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @sxmmarie @queeniesdiary @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @genius2050 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @oureternalbond @baybaybear1 @@thanossexual

Part One: Nashville - Riz makes a decision that affects your relationship in Nashville.

Part Two: Reckless - Taza and Neron realise that Riz is spiralling.

Part Three: Walk The Line - Taza calls you to get the truth about what happened between you and Riz.

Part 4: Bright - Vicki reminds Riz it's not all about him.

You don’t pick up the phone when he calls and Riz doesn’t blame you. When it goes straight to voicemail he doesn’t even bother to leave a message, he simply hangs up the phone and sighs. He tries to plan out his next steps in the shower but every avenue he looks down comes with a problem.

Access.

It’s not just as simple as picking up the phone anymore, if you block his calls, it’s not as if he can just turn up at your house. He’s lost track of your schedule over the past few months, he’s not even sure which city you’re in.

Those tickets at the box office, he would bet his life they aren’t even in his name anymore. Even then they only gave him access to the venue, with security the way it is, he wouldn’t be able to get anywhere hear you. He presses his palms to the cool tiles and hangs his head under the hot stream of water in an attempt to drown out the noise that resonates through his head.

He’s fucked up.

He’s ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to him because he can’t face the prospect of being rejected by someone that he loves.

He knows what this is about, but he hates the fact that it still fucking affects him even after all these years. The scars, they’re buried deep underneath the ridges of his skin but that time he spent in the orphanage in Mexico still stings. He knows his mother did what she thought was best, twenty-two with three kids, no man in the picture, too many mouths to feed… It wasn’t abandonment not really.

He was fifteen when he was cut loose, a few bucks to his name and a backpack. He knew his mother had a sister in the US so he’d made the trip under the cover of darkness and ended up here in Santo Padre, Vicki had just started up the brothel at that point. A wayward nephew had never factored into her plans. She had had taken him in anyway, putting him to work doing anything that needed doing around the house. Turning rooms over between clients, helping with the bar, keeping the appointment books and balancing the accounts.

He’d been a dropout ever since kindergarten, at least in the brothel he was productive. He’d learned from the best how to please a woman, how to listen to the sounds of her body, the heady echo of her moans. For the briefest moment in those exchanges, he felt like somebody loved him, that somebody wanted him. He forgot that love in his world was transactional. It took him a long time to accept that Vicki kept him around because she cares about him and not out of obligation.

“You’re surprisingly well adjusted.” You had told him as the two of you sat in the yard, sharing a spliff as the sun went down. Your feet were resting in his lap, his thumb caressing the hollow of your ankle before he leant over and handed you the joint.

“The MC helped balance me out.” He told you when he settled back into his seat. “It gave me the thing that I was missing, showed me that love and loyalty doesn’t have to come with stings. I think I have Taza to thank for that. He sponsored me, took me under his wing, he was the first person who really saw me for who I was and gave me that encouragement to grow as person and explore who I am.”

“He’s your MC dad.” You told him as you took a drag and he had laughed because he’s never thought about it like that. Taza’s the guy that calls him on his shit, sits with him when he’s low, he’s the one that taught him how to play guitar, that shared his love of music.

Taza always been there when Riz has needed it, despite the fact that Riz has done everything he can to fight it recently.

“Fuck.” He mutters, throwing his head back and using his palm to wipe the water from his face. Even when he’s an asshole, Taza’s still there, trying to help him put the pieces back together.

He’s barely set foot out of the shower when he hears the knock on his door. He almost ignores it. He doesn’t want to see anyone else tonight, he wants to get into his bed and scroll through pictures of the two of you on his phone the same way he has every other night since he ended things. He’s still clutching the towel to his waist when he answers the door and sees you standing there.

You still look as beautiful as the first day he saw you, that black silk dress hugging your form. Brown boots and a matching leather jacket thrown over your shoulders. Your suitcase is propped up next to you. In the background he sees Taza and Creeper idling in the van, Taza gives him a nod before he turns his head to Creeper and the two of them pull away from the curb.

He’s thought about what he wants to say so much over the past couple of hours, however now that you’re here the words just won’t come out. As your gaze shifts to the towel slung low around his hips, he realises this he’s still standing there at the front door, dripping wet and wearing next to nothing. It’s you that breaks the silence.

“Can I come in?”

Love Riz? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#michael riz ariza #riz x you #riz x reader #riz mayans #riz ariza #michael ariza x reader #michael riz ariza x reader #michael ariza #antonio jaramillo

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robynator · 3 months

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don't mind me just thinking about how deciding to check out the silly mountport spin-off on dropout was one of the best decisions i've ever made and led me to not only discover zach and jess but also meet the most wonderful people here on tumblr

#i'm feeling sentimental #i love you pibe + off book fandom #and all my lovely mutuals #jess mckenna #zach reino #off book #off book podcast #play it by ear

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rubyof-thesea · 3 months

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getting a dropout subscription was the best decision i’ve ever made

#bissy talks #dirty laundry #dropout

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yellow-dejavu · 4 months

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Egon and Doris made the best decision ever by saving money for Claudia's university. Thank you Egon and Doris for seeing your daughter's potential.

Their failed marriage didn't matter; these two made it possible for Claudia to break an impossible knot, to fool 2 high school dropouts who became cult leaders, and to erase from existence a cursed family tree.

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recentlyheardcom · 6 months

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Growing up, many of us were taught that a college degree is basically a guarantee that you'll enter into a financially secure career — but one $1.6 trillion student loan debt crisis later, that advice isn't exactly aging well. Recently, u/milly-0607 asked redditors who make over $50k without a degree to share what they do, and the responses were eye-opening. Here are some of the top replies:1."I deliver bread to grocery stores, and I made $120k last year working six to eight hours per day. Healthcare, pension, paid vacation, union representation. It's great work if you can find it."2."I do autopsies as a autopsy tech and make $50k without over time. I take out peoples' organs and give them to a doctor to do the actual autopsy. Then I sew up, clean up, and release bodies to funeral homes. It's smelly work, and you see things you can never unsee. But the death industry is the last Wild West, and I have a lot of down time for reading and naps."—u/iremovebrains3."I rotisserize chicken at Costco for $63k a year. Bought a house and everything. Great times."—u/stilgrave4."I’m a career nanny. I’m in my 20s at $90k plus benefits, 45 hours a week." Freshsplash / Getty Images5."I work at a union warehouse for Kroger, and I make about $80k–$85k a year, but that’s with overtime. I work about 50–60-hour weeks. I do pay $80 a month for union dues, but that’s all I pay. I get free healthcare, dental care, vision care, and a good retirement plan. Not bad for a 10th-grade dropout."—u/positive-pack-3966."I do loss prevention for a Fortune 10 company. With bonuses and stock grants, even entry level brings in $50k+ a year."—u/venustoise_tcg7."I'm a hairdresser. I work hard and a lot of hours. I make well over $100k post-tax, honestly reporting and legit. After 33 years in the business, I still love it. It’s honest work, but still work." Peathegee Inc / Getty Images8."I learned how to configure Salesforce for free and immediately started working with a Salesforce partner. My income went from $45k to $75k, and I hit six figures within my first year in the industry."—u/motonahi9."I'm a project manager for a health insurance company making $100k working remotely. I worked my way up over the last six years. I started in data entry. The trick is just finding a good company that likes to promote from within."—u/wxlfcody10."Real estate. Spent my last dime on my license. Last year, I did over $120k, and I am on my fourth year in the industry. Best decision I ever made." The Good Brigade / Getty Images11."I make $138k working as a baker, no degree, seven years of experience. I'm in San Francisco, California at a Michelin 1-star restaurant."—u/retardedastro12."Industrial rope access. I make between $50–$75 an hour. Plenty of work. It's not too expensive to get started. You work from ropes to get to places that are difficult to access with traditional methods and conduct work. I have worked on oil platforms, wind turbines, the roofs of stadiums, dams, and bridges. It can be very quick to move through your certs and make more money. Prevailing wage work comes around and can change your life."—u/pantsopticon8813."I'm a welder. I did an apprenticeship through the federal government. Started almost five years ago at 28 at $18 an hour. Now I'm making close to $35 an hour as a journeyman. I'm pushing $100k this year with overtime and bought my first house last spring. My work is dirty, but it isn't crazy hard, and I'm not forced to travel. That being said, I would not recommend welding as a trade — there are lot more trades that make more money and are less rough on your body and lungs." Moof / Getty Images/Image Source14."I'm a server/bartender making roughly $60k with 50-hour weeks."—u/flnn15."Aircraft maintenance for a major airline, two years of trade school. I make over $200k."—u/holidaycapital998116."I make $64k as an emergency 9-1-1 dispatcher. High stress and long hours, but a satisfying and interesting job nonetheless." Jacob Wackerhausen / Getty Images17."I make $60k as a supply chain account manager.

It’s basically glorified data entry for the most part. Fully remote since COVID."—u/nottodaybroadie18."Bank and credit union jobs. I've worked my way up and make $66K. They are by far the easiest jump from retail to a career path. You just lose the flexibility of the retail schedule. Typically, banks pay more. Credit unions have better benefits. You get 10+ paid holidays a year. Not including vacation. Some offer tuition reimbursement, and some will help you pay for certifications. If you find a mentor and a career path, there are TONS of options to grow. It's a small world, so people know people."—u/milky104819."I work for the post office as a part-time flexible rural carrier. I make $24.84 hourly and will clear $90k with overtime this year."20."Industrial maintenance tech. I work 40 hours a week with some overtime here and there and gross around $70k yearly. I could move to other plants making more, but I choose not to live at work. I enjoy my family time."—u/kaleafraid953521."Pest control. I make about $60k pre tax. I work from 8 to 4 most days, but I do make my own schedule, so somedays, may be 8 to 6, and some may be 10 to 3. Company vehicle and phone. I buy my own health insurance, though. Some days can be a dream, some can be absolute hell. Still can't afford a house or nice car, but I can enjoy my life."—u/wasted_potency22."Retail. Moved my way up at a grocery store and then a big retailer, currently making $70k and looking to be a store director by the end of next year. That job pays around $110k plus bonus. Most people don’t move up in retail; it’s a short term stop on their way to something else. But if you get good at it, like managing a super Target or becoming a district manager, you’re making bank." Jacoblund / Getty Images/iStockphoto23."I make about $65k–$70k a year as a patient placement coordinator. We're basically off-site case managers finding doctors and hospitals willing to take patients who can’t receive the care they need in the hospital where they’re currently located. I was working at Starbucks and Macy's three years ago and make about $13 more an hour now."—u/chance_assignment42224."Live entertainment. I started at 21 doing corporate AV in hotels. Learned as much as I could in four years. Eventually, I got to operator status, and now I make around $75k–$80k a year running lasers at one of the hottest clubs in New York. It also helps to be friendly and build a good network of people."—u/grandequesadilla25."I started in IT support as I was always a computer dork. If you are even slightly technically inclined, you can pretty much learn everything on the job. Started at $35k back in 2016 and worked my way up to a systems engineer making $75k now. I did get a few certificates along the way, but when I first landed the job, I just had a high school diploma. It's a solid career path. I have worked with numerous people without any degrees, and they make over $100k a year." Westend61 / Getty Images/Westend6126.And finally, "I make $110k a year doing application testing for an insurance company. I started as customer service making $25k and worked my way up over the last 16 years."—u/satan-catComments have been edited for length and clarity.Do you have a good paying job without a degree? Tell us all about it in the comments.

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phanfictioncatalogue · 2 years

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Found Family Masterlist

A Long-Awaited Reunion (ao3) - Archive (Curlylinguist)

Summary: Dan hesitates in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt the intimate moment. He wishes his hands weren't full so he could snap a quick photo of the scene; Phil bending down to rest his head on top of Kath's, her hand gently rubbing between his shoulder blades, Nigel on their other side leaning into Phil, whose arm is slung across his shoulder.

It's been 16 months since Dan last saw them in this exact formation as they wandered round the Saatchi Gallery excitedly pointing out the ancient Egyptian artifacts to one another - but looking at them like this now, settled, comfortable, familiar as ever in each other's presence and it could've just as easily been last week.

Kath and Nigel finally visit Dan and Phil in their new home.

all the lights are shining, so brightly everywhere. (ao3) - commonemergency

Summary: Phil loved his family; the family that he was given, and the family that he had chosen.

Broke, Gay and New in Town (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan Howell was in dire need for a change - he hated his job and his life and he just felt stuck. His grandfather's letter was a blessing that came with an incredible gift: A farm. Dan had no idea how to run a farm but he was willing to give it a try.

He arrived in Stardew Valley with few expectations but even so, he could never have imagined he would encounter magic, otherworldly creatures, corporate conspiracies, so many queer villagers, a secret destiny and right at the centre of it all the love of his life.

candles are how we keep fires as pets (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan tries to convince Phil that no, they absolutely cannot adopt the fire sprite that comes to visit their flat every day. Spoiler: He fails spectacularly.

family (found) (ao3) - huphilpuffs

Summary: Dan reflects on his friendship with Martyn.

finding light in the dark places. (ao3) - commonemergency

Summary: (TW) They’re all connected in some way. All have their own stories to tell. If Dan were a better person he’d get to know them more but he always feels like something is holding him back. So they just continue to work in each others spaces, creating things out of dough and making better things with icing. Donna’s slogan is that everything was made with love but he thinks that’s just because she made this thing—they’re just the hands that give it out to other people. One day, Dan thinks, he’ll hope to feel that passionate about something again. Or a story about grief and loss, found family, donuts, and first love.

fortune cookies (ao3) - oqua

Summary: Dan goes with Phil to celebrate Father's Day with the Lesters, and suddenly all his complicated feelings about his own parents come bubbling to the surface.

Basically 11k words of Dan being angsty and the Lesters being wonderful.

home for christmas (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan's an almost-homeless twenty year old almost-dropout, and putting his faith in Kathryn Lester is probably the best decision he's ever made.

I Became We (This Christmas Eve) (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: Hanging from the ceiling above the counter, in probably the only space in the store that didn’t have icicle lights dangling from it, was a glowing sign that read:

SANTA’S LITTLE HELPER

or,

Dan is an Instagram influencer, and the only thing he takes as seriously as his carefully crafted aesthetic is his hatred of the holiday season. That is, until a certain Christmas elf breaks through the walls he has built.

Laws Of Attraction (ao3) - strawberrysunflower

Summary: When Phil turned twenty-nine, he wrote out a list of all the things he had in his life. One terraced house in Manchester, rented. Two housemates who still buy the cheapest alcohol on offer in Tesco. Three failed long-term relationships.

After a spur-of-the-moment Friday night out on Canal Street, Phil ends up in the bed of a very handsome stranger. It’s a nice yet meaningless distraction from his directionless life. No big deal. Until he bumps into him again. And again. And again…

(Letting You) Sink In (ao3) - obsessive-fics (xoPrincessKayxo)

Summary: When Dan finds himself hostage on a rival pirate ship, it seems like the perfect opportunity to move up the ranks and become captain. What he doesn't expect, however, is the bond he forms with the crew's current captain, Phil.

(Very loosely based on the tv show Black Sails)

Love Isn't Like That (ao3) - adorkablephil (kimberly_a)

Summary: The Lester family is obviously too good to be true.

The Incredibly Domestic Life of Daniel Howell and Phillip Lester (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: A series of drabbles detailing the life of two grown British men. I have a life...

they grew up so nicely, didn't they? (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Cornelia doesn’t just get a boyfriend when she starts dating Martyn, she gets a whole second family too. Kath and Nigel welcome her with open arms and she becomes a pseudo older sister to Phil.

She is there watching from the sidelines as a boy bolts right into Phil’s heart and sets up camp. She gets to watch as Dan and Phil build careers and an internet community and all the trials and tribulations, as well as the pride and happiness, it brings along.

turn this house into a home (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: A 2009-centric fic about starting to find pride in your identity for the first time, and finding family who helps you do that (even if it’s not the family you were born into)

When the Weather Breaks (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: Sitting across from Phil on that worn out velvet Starbucks sofa, sharing sickeningly sweet coffees and what they would like to think were hushed giggles, was the first time Dan felt a glimpse at what real love could feel like. or Perception checks, pining, and peppermint mochas.

Your mom, my mom (ao3) - enoon

Summary: He found a family up there in the North, the best kind of family, the one he always wished he had.

It's Dan and Kath talking, essentially.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #foundfamily #foundfamily masterlist

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missspringthyme · 2 months

Text

February 27th, 2024

My meeting today got canceled because we were going to do a reading on the Greek girl, but she's sick. It's for the best anyway, I would have definitely been late. Unfortunately, it did mean that I wasted a cute business casual outfit. It's with the blue pants that I really like but have trouble styling for whatever reason. I don't have a lot of tops that go with them, and they're a very specific shade of blue, but I figured out a good look today. Ah well.

I was going to work on my research proposal today, but I'm not feeling enough panic to push me to do it. Instead I spent some more time researching places I can look for jobs when I'm done with my masters and making an application tracker in excel. I also watched the new episode of this show on dropout called VIP, which i love with my entire heart.

While I was doing this, German American was also sat in the living room stressing out because she had her last exam today. At one point, she went to the window and just started flapping her arms, so I made an executive decision. I turned on Sweet Caroline and made her dance with me. My favorite style of dancing is just a lot of jumping, but I feel like it's also a good way to get rid of stress. It did seem to work, but it was also a good reminder that my cardiovascular health is dog shit.

My dad also called me tonight and I brought up the idea of doing a German intensive. He suggested that instead of staying with a random host family, I stay with my actual family. It's a good idea to save money, but I'm a little iffy on the idea for 2 reasons. 1. They always want to practice their English with me 2. It's more embarrassing for me to look my German relatives in the eye and tell them I'm paying money to improve my German. I think I'll probably go back to the US in June, my dad really wants me to come and keeps asking. Honestly, I kinda don't want to, but what can you do. That also made me realize that if I stayed for 2 months then I probably could work a job part time while I finish my thesis and get some money. This then made me realize that my internship from last summer adored me and wanted to have me stay on but couldn't when they learned I wouldn't be staying in the US. They told me if I had time next summer to let them know, so I sent an email. If anyone would be willing to let me be flexible with start/end dates and hours, it'll be the people who I already know adore me. Plus, the internship is remote and super easy. It would be perfect.

So as it currently stands, my plan is June-July US and possibly do an internship to make some money, August come back to Germany, and then august/September do the intensive, September hopefully go to Italy, October graduate. That means that even when my lease ends in August I have places to stay until I graduate, and I continually have things going on. My thesis deadline is the same day my lease ends, so hopefully everything just kinda flows smoothly.

I make money, I finish my thesis, I do the intensive, I lay on a beach in Italy, I get a job and so on. In case you can't tell, I managed to make myself pretty stressed. Time is just moving so quickly and I wish that I had done a 2 year masters. I'm not ready to let any of this go. I'm just really happy here and I'm not getting enough time. I'm scared it would be difficult to find a job in Germany, and I don't want to leave. This is one of the first places that I could actually imagine myself living in for decades. I don't want to go. Most of the best jobs that i can do before my PhD are in the US and i'm so afraid that i'll keep making the easier choices and ill end up stuck. It would make so many people in my life happier if I lived in the US, particularly in Colorado but I can't do it. My parents are in their 60s, my dad is inching closer to 70 everyday and I cant bear the thought of losing him, but he's in Colorado. The only life T has ever known is Colorado, and he loves it there. I'm just not a full person there. I wish I could be happy there, that I could buy a house close to my dad's and have dinners with him and my sort of step mom. I wish that was enough.

There's also something else that's been knocking around in my head. I'm considering pregnancy. Not anytime soon, but my hard stance on never doing it is softening.

The reasons why I have been very adamant about never getting pregnant are as follows (1) I have PCOS and endometriosis, which both mean issues with fertility and increased risk during pregnancy. My mom had 8 miscarriages and I don't know if I can do that. (2) I'm terrified that it will permanently harm my health or, result in my death. Pain is not nice, but it doesn't scare me. It'swhat the pain could mean. Plus, I have a theory that my mom had post partum deppression after i was born. I know she had a big personality shift and suddenly lost interest in a lot of things that used to drive her before. Its been a few years since i met the diagnostic criteria for depression and I dont want to go back. Im so scared. (3) I know it will change my body and as shallow as it is, I don't think I have stable enough self esteem to handle that. I already have to be very careful I don't slip habits that look suspiciously like eating disorders now, it would be incredibly difficult for me post-pregnancy. (4) I hate how vulnerable pregnancy is, there's so many scary things and you have to trust so many people. I'm afraid I can't do that, I already have enough trouble with doctors as is.

Reasons why I am now considering pregnancy (1) I desperately want kids, it's one of those things that I'm just very sure about and have thought about a lot. (2) T wants a biological child and I have some ethical concerns with the adoption industry, although if I could I would love to foster (3) surrogacy is expensive and poses some logistical issues. One of which is I would be unable to pass on my German citizenship. One of the many reasons I want to speed run German fluency is that I would want my kids to not have to deal with what I had to. It also means finding someone we trust, and there's legal and medical red tape. Lots of things. Not impossible, and not off the table, but still. (4) It means I can make more decisions and have more control over the process (5) the more I see these amazing women who did it and the world didn't end, the more comfortable I am with the idea.

That being said, there are some things that I would need to be in place in order to feel even remotely comfortable enough to do it. (1) I would want to be in excellent physical health, and would get a physical trainer to coach me like I was about to do a marathon (2) not in the US, I don't trust maternity there and I would like adequate leave (3) I would want to hire a midwife, and ideally a confinement style post-birth recovery where the only thing you do is rest and feed your baby. (4) therapy, therapy, therapy.

This wouldn't be for years anyway, and maybe I'll keep changing my mind, but I'm finding it difficult to tell T. He knows how I feel and completely understands, but with how vocally against becoming pregnant I have been since people started talking to me about it, I feel like a fraud back tracking. Or like people are going to treat this like I finally stopped being silly. There's already such an enormous societal certainty that pregnancy is what you have to do that I feel like once I voice anything besides a hardline stance, I don't get any say in the matter. When we start having serious conversations about kids I'll think about what to say then.

In the meantime, it was nice getting this off my chest, didn't realize how badly I needed to cry.

#febuary #roommates #t #dad

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kaitlynreardon · 8 months

Text

highschool

i dropped out of high school maybe 5-6 months ago, and let me tell you...

best decision ever. i enjoyed school solely because of the friends i had, i had (still have) the best friend group ever. and i had no fuss masking new friends. i always worried when we would get our timetables out for the year that i wouldn’t have friends in my classes! but i never had that problem it always worked out.

but when it came to the actual education i found it very difficult. i was struggling with my mental health severely and it definitely had the biggest impact on my education. it started by me not going to school every now and then. till i got addicted to it LOL. i rarely would show up to school and when i would i was always skipping classes. somehow i continuously got away with it and was never pulled up on it..?! so i thought in my mind i’d keep skipping school as their was no consequences.. little did i know 🤣 it put my education at risk of course! i would miss so much class that i wasn’t learning anything and then when it would come to the test i would flank them and fail. it got to the point that i’d get a 30% on a test and i was happy with it.

i failed every single class due to my attendance and results i was getting. i didn’t pass one class for the last 3 years i attended high school.

i also had a part time job at kfc, i became a workaholic and would work till 11:30 sometimes even 12am on a school night, and with all that it lead me to be so drained i wouldn’t have the energy to go to school.

i’m not one to reach out for help. i don’t like people trying to help me because i’m what one would call a perfectionist and not one person would know how to fix my problems.. including me. as i mentioned in a recent post i don’t like the attention either so i just would never ask for help, in hopes they’ll come to me.. but no one did.

my parents began to hassle me of course and made me talk to my coordinators. they were all talk when i told them about what i was going through.. they never helped me instead sent me to see the school councillor where i would sit with a younger women in a room with fidget toys and bullshit inspirational posters... school councillors are a joke btw. this women sitting in front of me had no idea what i was going through and even if she did how could she help me?? she was probably only a few years older then me tbh. regardless i would show up to these sessions every week where she would recommend me breathing exercises and getting fresh air.. like seriously ??

i was sick of it i was sick of the teachers that were only there to get pain and that’s it. i don’t think i came across a teacher that really cared about us. just money driven. i attended term one of year 11 (barely). and then term 2 came round and i just never showed up, that was it. i was done with highschool and i didn’t even know it .

i don’t regret dropping out of highschool at all. not one ounce of me wishes that i didn’t dropout. i know god has me on the right path🙏🏻

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

Graduation Day ~ Kim Hongjoong

“I told you you’d do it,” Hongjoong smiled as you walked off the stage with your certificate held tightly in your hand, spotting him instantly waiting for you.

His arms moved around your waist as you stepped into his side, pressing his lips against the top of your head. He was your biggest supporter over the past couple of years, even when life seemed to be throwing every hurdle your way.

The long nights, the teary nights, the sleepless nights had all been worth it for the piece of paper that you held onto in that moment.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered down to you, pressing his hand to your cheek, “it’s nice to see you smiling again with the weight of the world off your shoulders.”

There had been far too many times then he liked to remember when he’d ended up finding you teary eyed or breaking down in front of your laptop. Too many visits when you’d crumbled around him because the workload became too much.

Hongjoong could remember his last visit with you the most. How you sobbed into his side for hours and vented about how difficult you were finding your final essay and how hard you were having to fight not to dropout.

“Let me take a proper look,” he smiled, holding his hand out for you to give him your certificate.

He pulled the ribbon that was around the scroll, opening it up so that he could read through it. His heart was full as he read through your name and all of the other pieces of information that came with it, including the all-important pass you’d been working towards.

“You deserve this so much,” he whispered, tying it back up again once he’d finished reading through it, “how does it feel to finally be a graduate?”

“I didn’t think I’d be a graduate a few weeks ago,” you chuckled, feeling your cheeks begin to turn red, “I was convinced on that night that I was just going to give it up, I don’t know how you managed to convince me to carry on if I’m honest with you.”

If Hongjoong was honest, he had his doubts too. Your deadline was only a couple of weeks away, and he knew you were stressed, but even he hadn’t seen you in such a state before. He was clueless, but somehow, he managed to do the right thing.

Watching you now with a wide smile on your face, he was relieved he made the decision to go to your dorm that night and see how you were getting on. If he hadn’t, he doubted that you’d even be stood where you were right now.

“And now you have the rest of your life to look forward to,” Hongjoong reminded you, “and best of all, you don’t ever have to submit another essay again.”

Your eyes lit up just at the thought of finally being free from all of your studies, “I feel like I could sleep for a thousand years after everything I’ve been through over the past few months.”

Hongjoong had often just sat back and admired your dedication and determination to getting yourself the best grade possible. You’d pushed yourself to breaking that, but your grade reflected that, which Hongjoong knew was all that you’d ever wanted.

His arms moved back around your waist once your scroll was handed back to you, tapping gently at the graduation cap on top of your head. He almost felt as if he was in a movie as he studied you kitted out head to toe in your hat and your graduation gown.

It didn’t take long before your hat piqued his interest, and he began to tap at it again and again until he sent it toppling off the top of your head. Your eyes rolled as he bent down to pick it up, sitting it perfectly against the top of your head as if nothing had happened.

“I swear it’s like bringing a child to my graduation,” you remarked, jabbing into his side gently. “You’re not with the boys now, you don’t have to keep touching everything and messing around with it,” you reminded him, rolling your eyes as his jaw opened in surprise.

“I’m just reminding myself that I’m dating a graduate,” he proudly smiled, pressing a kiss against your forehead to keep you quiet. “I feel pretty smug being able to say that, especially when I’ve been such a crucial part in helping you get to this position.”

“A crucial part? You really think that’s what you’ve been?”

His head nodded in response to your question, even though you knew he was joking, if you were honest, Hongjoong wasn’t wrong in the slightest. Each time you felt like giving up, he was there, when you wanted someone to visit you, he was straight round, and each time you succeeded, he was the first one there to congratulate you too.

Your eyes glanced back up at him, “I guess I probably wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you, you’ve always been my biggest supporter.”

“I knew exactly what you were capable of, that’s why. Even if you doubted yourself, I knew you’d get to this position with a little bit of support,” he smiled.

“You’ve done so much more than a little bit of support,” you responded, “you’ve really been there when I felt like giving up.”

For all the times that he’d had to help you when you felt yourself breaking down or wanted to hand in your letter to tell them you were dropping out, they were all worth it and so much more as Hongjoong watched you graduate. He had never been prouder than the moment he watched you walk up on that stage and take your certificate.

“What’s next then?” He questioned suddenly, “now you have the whole world waiting for you, what do I have to support you through next? Have you got your next step?”

“Right now, I just want to do nothing for a while and give myself some time to relax.”

“That’s a good idea,” he chuckled.

Your smile grew wider, “maybe I could come and annoy you at work, make up for all the times you’ve constantly appeared at my dorm over the years.”

He couldn’t hide his delight at the thought of you getting more involved with his work now that you had the time. Hongjoong was forever trying to get you to spend time at the studio or come to a show, and now the weight of the world had lifted from you, you finally had the time.

“Whatever you do, I’ll be there,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead gently.

“I know,” you giggled, “you’ve been by my side through so much of the worst, it’s about time we go through some of the best together too.”

“It’s all been worth it to see you now, you’ve put so much effort and hard work into this, and now you can reap the rewards. I don’t think I’ll ever really be able to tell you just how proud I am of how far you’ve come.”

Your head nodded slowly, “I’ve definitely come along way from breaking down in the dorm. I’m just relieved that I chose to stick it out and carry it on until the end.”

“Me too, and now you can finally call yourself a graduate.”

---

Masterlist

#ateez #ateez imagine #hongjoong #hongjoong imagine #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong imagine #ateez scenario #ateez reaction #ateez hongjoong #ateez drabble #ateez one shot #ateez fluff #hongjoong scenario #hongjoong reaction #hongjoong drabble #hongjoong one shot #hongjoong fluff #kpop #kpop imagine

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historyman101 · 3 years

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Prince of the Empire Joachim Murat, King of Naples (1767-1815)

With the Poniatowski saga officially in the works, I figure I should talk about some of the key characters and figures that will be prominent in my story. First up is not Napoleon himself, but one of his right-hand men, Marshal Murat.

He is, of course, Poniatowski’s closest friend in the Grande Armee, and it’s not hard to see why. The two men are very similar to each other and both lived very colorful lives that ended in a similar tragedy.

I realize that @joachimnapoleon is more knowledgeable about Murat than I am, so no doubt I will get some things wrong in my assessments of him. Take all of my opinions on the guy as you will.

Murat fascinates me because his rise and fall mirrors that of Napoleon’s. He came from humble origins (an innkeeper’s son), rose not only to be one of the senior-most Marshals in the empire, but a king. However, he was also a man of contradictions. Exceptionally brave, but ultimately looking out for himself. One of Napoleon’s trusted friends, but ultimately betrayed him (I know about Marshal Marmont, but Marmont isn’t in this story). A superb horseman, but showed a lack of concern for his horses (especially in 1812). A renowned ladies’ man, but happily married with children. An ardent republican, but was made a king.

Before Murat became a legend in military history, he was destined to be a clergyman, but dropped out of college and ran away from home to join the cavalry. He was stuck on the sidelines for much of the Revolutionary Wars until his fateful meeting with Napoleon Bonaparte during the 13 Vendemaire Uprising. Then a captain, he was charged with fetching the cannon that allowed Napoleon to mow down the Royalist mob.

He faithfully served Napoleon in Italy and Egypt, earning a reputation as a courageous leader of cavalry and a dashing beau sabreur. Murat always tried to make a splash and draw as much attention as possible, usually through his extravagant uniforms, and the tiger pelt on his horse’s back.

As an officer, he had keen tactical instinct. Aggressive, fearless, and charismatic, he was the perfect cavalry commander on the battlefield. He often put himself at great personal risk, such as when he rode into battle at Jena with only his riding crop. His finest moment was probably at Eylau, where his massed cavalry charge saved Napoleon’s army and turned what looked to be a bloody defeat into a bloody draw.

On the battlefield, he was peerless. But as an administrator, he struggled. Nowhere is this better demonstrated in Spain, where his only answer to every problem was to call out the troops and order firing squads. When you’re a hammer, everything else looks like a nail.

Spain brings me to what I think is when things began to go downhill for Murat: when he received the throne of the Kingdom of Naples. I’ll probably get some flak for saying this, but I think Napoleon making him a king was perceived as a slight, as I can’t imagine Murat not wanting the throne of Spain. For someone with a big head like his, Naples was seen as second prize, and I don’t think he ever forgave Napoleon for it.

Not to say I don’t understand where he was coming from, but it strikes me as very petty and ungrateful. The guy was a college dropout who had risen to be not only one of the most senior marshals in the empire but also became Napoleon’s brother-in-law. Count your blessings, Prince, and consider yourself fortunate to even be made king.

However, Murat, from what I’ve read, was well-liked in Naples. He reformed the army and the government, tried his best to limit French influence, and even turned a blind eye to smuggling, which, naturally, hurt his friendship with Napoleon.

He was still trusted enough to lead the cavalry in the Russian campaign, but as in Spain, he showed his limitations as a commander. He drove his men and his horses hard in Russia, and that had disastrous consequences for the French army. Not only did horses die from exhaustion and lack of fodder, but even failed to distribute proper horseshoes. He had no sense of strategy and only knew how to fight, as he did with great skill at the Battle of Borodino and during the retreat from Moscow.

By 1813, Murat was no longer concerned with aiding Napoleon, but hanging on to his kingdom, and thus entered secret negotiations with the Allies to keep his throne. Even as he did so, he still proved an adept leader of cavalry at Dresden and Leipzig, and even came close to turning the tide at the latter.

But after Leipzig ended in defeat, he switched sides and joined the Coalition. But even on the winning side, he failed to engage the French in a decisive battle and when Napoleon abdicated in 1814, his troops had seen no real fighting. When it became obvious to him that he would lose his kingdom, he tried in vain to ally himself with Napoleon, who refused to give him refgue in France. When his kingdom was overthrown, and he was tried and found guilty by the Neapolitan court, he met his death with courage befitting of Europe’s greatest horseman.

His last words to his firing squad were, “aim for the heart, but spare my face.”

Murat reminds me a lot of a Greek tragic hero or a French George Armstrong Custer. Courageous and charismatic, but brought down by his own pride and arrogance. He was at his best when facing the enemy on the field, but he never had a mind for strategy or planning. His planning always essentially boiled down to “Let’s get ‘em!” When he tasted power, he became more interested in holding onto it rather than supporting who had given him that power in the first place. He was ultimately self-interested and forgot what allowed him to become royalty to begin with, and that proved his downfall.

Marshal Berthier said it better than I ever could: “You are only a king by the grace of Napoleon and French blood. It’s black ingratitude that’s blinding you.”

#napoleon's marshals #Napoleonic Wars #napoleonic era #Napoleonic #19th Century History #military history #Marshal Murat #joachim murat #history #napoleon

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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 3 years

Text

Anon said: I hope I'm not too late to slip in a request! I was actually hoping for a more platonic request with Miche? Just how he would help out a new cadet on his squad or something... Maybe there having a hard time fitting in now that there on a section commander squad or even worried about an upcoming expedition. Miche is one of my biggest comfort Characters and I'm such a shy person lol...I love you blog by the way, it's such a comforting place...🥺

Miche reassuring you that you're enough.

{Miche & reader | tw:none | platonic, comfort | canonverse}

{ "The Interior of the Palm House on the Pfaueninsel Near Potsdam" 1834 by Carl Blechen 1798 - 1840 }

No one can deny that the survey corps had a...certain reputation between the people, for being ruthless, unhinged and not a place for someone hoping for a future.

Their leader is known for gambling with human lives, their strongest has a criminal history record and their most intelligent, does experiments that would put medical student dropout Frankenstein himself to shame.

In short, you'd be crazy for walking there with your own two feet and expecting a crumb of compassion.

You don't go looking for fish in the desert.

You've heard it all, those sayings people keep reciting like a broken record whenever you'd bring up joining the survey corps.

"You'll just end up titan food"

"Why do you want to throw away your life?"

"God your poor family…"

And despite all of that, you still marched on, despite everyone who told you to quit.

Not only did you join and stayed alive for so long, you've even managed to climb the ranks in record time.

So fast in fact that you were assigned to join a section commander's squad after a very successful titan capture mission that earned you a pat on the back from Erwin.

Being pulled from your friends and moved to a new place where you were surrounded by veterans who've been in their positions for 10 years or more, was quite sudden and shocking.

One thing that should've eased your nerves, was the fact it was squad Miche you're being put into.

Anyone in the survey corps can tell you that in comparison to other squads, this was the most...friendly per say, since they prioritised teamwork and coming back alive over everything else, knowing together they're much stronger and willing to protect each other no matter what.

While yes they did have their quirks, it was almost nothing in comparison to Levi's strict hygiene rules and Hange's workaholic routine or Erwin's unreadable intentions.

And yet, you felt unease at the whole situation.

You were clearly "that new cadet" in this old group of close-knit people, almost standing out even.

You wanted to prove yourself, you've done it before to all those people so why is it any different now.

Maybe...because they are actually experienced soldiers this time, and not strangers living in blissful ignorance inside the walls.

Maybe because you feel the growing burden of expectations set on you for being the newest person in the squad, and being put there by none other than the commander himself which would raise some eyebrows if you couldn't deliver.

Uncertainty and doubt began pooling up inside your mind, making you second guess decisions and overthink actions.

And it's not like the squad members were leaving you out, no in fact they were doing their best to include you.

….maybe even too much actually, it didn't help that all of them were outgoing people, it was overwhelming.

Nanaba was an unofficial stand in caption when Miche wasn't around. Having a confident yet compassionate personality made her protective of her teammates, almost like a big sister, earning her a lot of respect.

So much in fact that it would unintentionally intimidate people out of approaching her

Gelgar was a strong believer in Miche, loyal to a fault almost. Yet he wouldn't say no for a chance to relax and grab a couple drinks, being friends with so many people came naturally to him with his mellow personality and overall friendliness.

Maybe a bit much too friendly? That personal boundaries were often crossed without him realising it.

Lynne was a good balance between the two, she was considerate of others feelings...even so much in fact that she tended to sugar-coat almost everything.

Thomas and Henning were close with each other, both serious and determined. But maybe because they were so used to each other that dealing with new people became...strange, for conversations with them resembled an awkward dad attempting to check on you but not actually putting much effort to understand.

Meanwhile, you were a reserved and shy person.

It was a miracle that you managed to get a group of friends in cadet training that stayed with you throughout the years, but now after being transferred it was all turned to dust.

You have to start again, meet people again and talk to them while wondering if they actually like you or are pretending to be nice because they don't wanna come off as rude-

On top of that, Erwin seemed to keep an eye on you after your last mission, silently conveying the trust and expectations he's putting your way, to not fail him and show you're worthy of this special treatment.

It was too much, too overwhelming and draining.

Dread and uncertainty loomed in the corners of your mind, only metastating in size as the date for the new expedition was announced.

To add fuel to the fire, apparently everyone seemed almost...excited or nonchalant for going out there again, like this is a mere walk in the park as they began making preparations and training.

Were you the only one that felt nervous? Oh god.

Your legs felt like they were weighted down by stones as you stared at the large board in front of you, a white sheet signed by the commander announcing next week to be the date of the expedition, several names listed below for who'd be required for service.

Your name was at the top, even with a line underneath it. The fact it was in cursive didn't make it any less gut-wrenching.

The chatter of people around you, discussing the plans and joking with each other, began blurring out at the back of your mind.

The weather seemed colder as shivers ran down your neck. A rolling feeling in your stomach making your throat tighten, your own voice inside your head was the only noise you could hear.

All those thoughts and worries creeping from underneath the dark corners that you've been pushing them into all this time, like a swarm drowning you in their "what if" and skepticism, full of doubt and illogical pessimism for worst case scenarios.

Thoughts that aren't even your own joined them, ones you never had and knew weren't true and yet amidst the storm it was hard to tell the real from the ones passing through.

You know you're capable, so why…

Are you capable?

Yes…

but are you really?

...

And how are you even sure?

Before it could pull you deeper into that hole of despair, something snapped your attention back to reality, a hand nudging your shoulder.

"You really didn't hear me huh." The voice came from behind you, a tall figure stepping closer till you were in his shadow.

Miche looked at you with a tilted head, his lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes bore into you like he's attempting to guess what's going inside your brain.

You've been too lost inside your mind you didn't notice that you were the only one left standing in front of the board.

From the way Miche's shoulders fell after reading your expression, eyes softening after glancing at your name on the sheet, he was quick to catch on.

Before you could say something to save your face after being caught in this state by none other than your new captain, Miche just told you to come with him, making sure to walk beside you، protectively staying close that no one on your way would interrupt.

Passing the corridor leading to his office, you gave him an uncertain glance as he simply gestured for you to continue walking for whatever unknown place you're headed to.

Soon enough the buildings and stone streets faded the further you went on, grass and dirt roads taking its place.

It wasn't a long walk per say, but more of a secluded area that took both of you some turns in seemingly shady alleyways to reach.

You couldn't hear the horses or soldiers walking anymore, only the soft flowing of the nearby river.

The tall grass barely reaching below your knees, some ladybugs crawling on top of the scattered daffodils in-between, the closer to the river cliff you got the taller it became.

The first thing Miche did, wasn't explaining to you why you're here, or what exactly he was after.

No, he barely said a word even, only taking in a deep breath as the wind had the courtesy of pushing his bangs back, eyes finally in clear view now.

Gaze meeting yours, he gave you a nod, a gesture to do the same thing.

You reluctantly took a deep breath.

He smiled.

Both of you sat by the river, he gave you his jacket to sit on.

As the silence grew between you, even while it wasn't the uncomfortable kind, it was clear he was struggling to phrase something, the right words just not coming to mind.

Turning his body towards you, he finally said, "how about i just..listen, let it out.".

It wasn't easy, you can't just pour out your heart to your superior.

Not to mention the military wasn't a place for weakness, could you really openly admit to your worries?

Well, yes you could, because it isn't weak, it takes great strength to face something scary and admit to it.

It's strength that got you this far.

How could you ever mistake vulnerability for weakness?

Keeping true to his words, Miche didn't interrupt you as you slowly opened up about what's been troubling you.

He patiently listened, occasionally humming for you to go on whenever you'd lose track.

And by the end of it, after you poured out all your frustration, sadness and worries, it felt...like a weight lifted off your shoulders.

Miche looked at you with understanding in his eyes, as if he himself has been in this exact same position years ago.

...and maybe he was, considering his behaviour wasn't what's socially common, he would've definitely stood out back before he had the respect of being a captain.

He isn't a man of words, for actions spoke much louder.

That's why he became more attentive from that day on, offering to help you train, giving you a smile whenever you passed by and sitting near you whenever his squad were gathered so he'd ask for your opinion on plans or simply share looks whenever they began joking with each other.

He didn't attempt to make you change, instead he made changes to accommodate you.

You're part of the team and he made it clear.

And while he couldn't give reassuring words, he certainly gave his time and energy, paying attention to you, reading your moods and listening whenever life becomes too much.

Maybe he saw his past self in you, and wanted to give you all the comfort, attention and care he wished for back then.

Even if it was mere hugs and shoulder pats that he could offer, he knew small things can make changes overtime.

For him, it's not getting rid of your stress that he was attempting to achieve, no, for life is full of stress.

Instead, he wanted to offer you ways to deal with the stress, to acknowledge it as it is and be heard, to be understood.

Because while stress will pass either way, it didn't mean it had to pass painfully.

You weren't alone, he made sure of that.

Maybe he got too attached, maybe someone might say he's giving you special treatment, maybe Erwin would give him a backhanded comment every now and then.

But since when did Miche pay attention to these things?

Well...he can't deny he might be giving you more break days than the other Cadets, larger food portions and even most of his time.

But he won't justify himself to anyone either, he doesn't have to.

Because after all, there really isn't any ulterior motives behind his actions, they were as simple as they came.

It was pure genuine care, the type that makes someone want to protect a person and watch them grow healthy.

The type that made him offer you a thumbs up after each training session, a proud smile on his face for how much you're learning.

Maybe some slight teasing about how if you keep this up, you might even replace him as the second strongest one day.

And while he said it with a joking tone, the hopeful pride-filled look on his face told a whole nother story.

you're not sure if it was a joke or a promise.

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feedbackloop-au · 2 years

Text

Metamorphoses

Samantha Addison is sixteen years old. Sitting across from her in the stuffy air of the principal’s office is her older sister Frieda. Her face is neutral, as it always is. She manages about four facial expressions a week and will not be affording one for Sam’s sake, even for this most monumental moment of her life.

The principal is looking down at her with a steely expression.

“This is no choice to be made lightly, you understand. An education is important.”

This might’ve worked better on her if she hadn’t long ago figured out that was bullshit. Frieda herself was a dropout, and she was doing amazingly. She was already COO at a well to do fashion boutique in the swanky part of the city, with only up to go.

This stupid school is holding her back. She should already be on her way up in the world, just like her sister. Just like her brothers. She’s an Addison, too, dammit. It’s her time to take life into her own hands. She’s not a kid anymore.

Sam opens her mouth to talk, but Frieda answers for her.

“We’re sure of this decision. Can I just sign the damn paper already?”

Frieda is so cool. She’s got better, more important places to be than in this stupid school signing some stupid papers that won’t even earn her any money.

Sam grins. She does too, now.

Her future is lit up neon and beautiful.

Jacques DeVille is sixteen years old. Sitting across from him in the insufferable heat of late summer in a rural high school is the gangly monster from his recurring dreams slash nightmares. Jacques’s blood is still on his knuckles.

“Faggot.” the object of his lust and or fear growls, not caring if the principal hears him. Jaques is trying very hard not to look at him.

He hadn’t thought he’d said anything too bad. It had been a joke. The missing tooth and black eye he now sports tell a different story.

The part of him that earned him a beating wants to snark back a “Guilty as charged.”, but the part of him that wants at least one good eye to look out of has decided the scuffed tiles of the floor are far more worthy of his eye rolling.

“Mr. DeVille, why are you always instigating things?”

He isn’t trying to, now or ever. He’s working on becoming a comedian. Trying to win over the hardest crowd he can.

…In retrospect, his very loudly homophobic crush was probably not the best choice for testing new material out.

He doesn’t say anything. Opening his mouth is what got the tooth knocked out of it.

“I’m suspending both of you for a week.”

Whatever evil trickster god cursed Jacques with that violence-inducing laughing tic must be having a field day, because he’s cackling.

“What’s so funny, DeVille? You’re in danger of expulsion at the rate you’re going.”

Nothing is funny. It’s all funny. He’s bleeding, and getting suspended for having the nerve to bleed. Or, funnier, for telling maybe too fruity a joke to a guy he’d like to say far fruitier things to, and getting suspended for having the nerve to be gay and unfunny.

“Sorry, sorry. I can’t help it.”

He’s not sure what he’s sorry for, or what it is he can’t help. Nobody will ask him. Nobody cares.

Not for the first time, nor the last, he finds himself dreaming of something better than this place he knows he won’t survive. Maybe someday he’ll find it.

Spamton Addison is twenty six years old. He feels like a massive weight has been taken off his chest, a joke he will tell every day to anyone who will listen for the next month.

That sweet sweet gently used auto dealership money is finally coming in, and he’s gotten himself a little treat to celebrate: a month off work for his surgery to heal, to handle more personal matters than attempting to hide rust behind thick layers of spraypaint.

There’s no truth stretching in the words printed on that legal document hanging behind him in his office. ‘The plaintiff, SAMANTHA G. ADDISON, will now be legally identified as SPAMTON G. ADDISON.’ No loopholes. Just the truth, his own truth, hanging where that high school diploma he never bothered finishing could’ve hung.

“It’s fine,” says Lorenzo, looking the framed paper over. “Of course, it’s fine. You always were different. I’m glad you figured out what it was.”

It’s a practical answer to what Lorenzo sees as a practical problem. Spamton expects nothing less from the guy. ‘Truth’ probably never entered his mind as a reason someone might decide to do something. That’s fine, too.

“...But why ‘Spamton’? The hell kind of name is that?”

“Art.” He taps his forehead, grinning. Lorenzo probably won’t get this, either, but he’s happy to try explaining. “I’m a work of f-f-fucking art, Renz. I’m a painting, or a sculpture. I’m the product, too.”

“Art,” he repeats, face blank. He’s looking at the reproduction Swatch piece Spamton keeps on his desk, another treat to himself, a beautiful sculpture of a dove and a vulture wrapped around a minimalist body. “But what’s a ‘Spamton’? It sounds like an insult. I don’t think I’d want to buy a ‘Spamton’, Sam- er, Spam.”

“You know what a ‘Spamton’ is, Renz. You’ve known one my whole life. Me.”

His suits fit amazingly. The grimace his gnarly mouth has always forced onto his face feels more like a conscious choice than it ever has before.

His future is golden.

Jevil is twenty six years old. He likes the way ‘Jevil’ sounds in his mouth. Seam even liked the name. They got him into Satanism, though he’s pretty sure they take it a lot more seriously than he does. He mostly thinks it’s cool how Satanists want to be nice and reasonable with people. It’s not a bad philosophy, being nice to people.

The edgy devil stuff works nice for scaring off the kinds of closed-minded dudes who used to call him slurs in his younger years, too, but that’s more of a fringe benefit.

Seam was there, grinning that lazy Cheshire Cat grin in the mirror behind him, hand on his shoulder as he dipped his finger in the white greasepaint for the first time. The paint feels cool on his face. He’d never so much as put on nail polish before. He couldn’t afford to, not when it would mark him so plainly as an outcast.

“How do I do this, this?” His scowl is smearing the white at the corners of his mouth.

“I don’t know much about clowning, but your facepaint is supposed to be something personal.” Their grin softens even more. They’re always so gentle with him. “Do what feels natural to you.”

‘Natural’ is to wipe the white off before someone sees him like this, natural is to…

No, he’s sick of hiding.

He picks up Seam’s lipstick and draws himself on a cartoonishly exaggerated grin. Clowns are supposed to be happy, he thinks. He’s not sure if he’s happy or not, but he’ll at least try to look the part. Being nice to people starts with a smile.

Natural. His laughing tic starts up, looking back at the clown in the mirror with the sloppy lipstick grin. He doesn’t try to suppress it.

The smile is in the mirror clown’s eyes, too.

He picks up the stick of black eyeliner and draws little crosses over his eyes. They’re uneven, one is way larger than the other and both are curving more than he had intended them to. He doesn’t sweat it. He’ll get better at it; he has the rest of his life to learn.

He doesn’t see Jacques DeVille, the awkward queer who was only good for getting the crap beat out of him for telling tasteless jokes, in the mirror anymore. He sees Jevil, the clown who can bring a smile to anyone’s face, even his own.

He makes a conscious choice to exaggerate his tic, letting that laugh pour out of him until it vibrates the walls of the bathroom. Natural, like Seam had said. He’s surprised how natural it all feels.

He leans back into Seam. Their tummy is welcoming, their own soft laugh echoes with his.

He’ll be able to face the future like this.

Spamton G. Spamton is thirty six years old. He’s not sure of much besides that. Honestly, he’s not sure of that, either.

Dr. G helpfully tells him it’s been three days since he last ate something. Mike tells him he should stop eating altogether. He nods at both of them. He’s tired.

“You need to eat, or you’ll die. Your BMI is dangerously low.”

He doesn’t know where he is.

“This is your punishment. You deserve to suffer for what you did.”

He doesn’t remember what he did. It must have been bad.

“You’re a liar and a thief. You stole from your family. You lied to them.”

That could be true. He’s not sure. Part of it sounds true. His legs are aching for him to stop walking, to lay down and give up.

“You need to find somewhere warm to sleep if you hope to make it through the night.”

He wonders if he was ever anything besides a place for those two to wage their war against each other. Were his dreams ever his own, or was he always just a vessel for two wills pulling him in different directions?

Who do his aching legs belong to? His name? Was that Dr. Gaster? Was that Mike?

He’ll listen to his legs, for now, but he’ll growl his name as he curls up into himself. He’s a work of art, he’s the product, and he’s one hell of a hard sell.

The stone steps his body finds itself resting on hurt his aching exposed bones. The pain of surrender hurts in a more real way than any hunger pain before it. A tarnished brass statue looms over him. He’s not sure what saint it’s supposed to be, but he recognizes it as a Swatch original.

He’d gladly die in the shadow of something so beautiful.

Jacques DeVille is thirty six years old. He’s not Jevil right now. Maybe he never will be again. Seam has a look on their face like they’re feeling guilty for something, even as they repeat that this isn’t some kind of punishment, that they want to hear him laugh on purpose again more than anything else in the world.

The nurse takes off his earrings and the pentagram necklace he’s got dangling proudly over his chest. Seam holds his hand.

“I’m sorry, Jevil, I’m so sorry.”

He answers the intake questionnaire as if he was talking about someone else. Jevil wouldn’t answer anything but a zero on the ‘suicide idealation scale’; Jevil laughed himself to tears every day of his life.

He’s handed the traditional mental hospital garb and pointed in the direction of the showers.

The nurse tells Seam it would be best if they leave for a while, the sedatives will be kicking in any time now and he’ll be knocked out for a while.

Seam looks at him as Jevil one last time.

“We’ll get through this. You’ll be back to your old self in no time, I promise.”

‘No time’ lasts the two minutes it takes him to strip and step into the impersonal exposed spigot of the shower. He watches the last of his white greasepaint circle down the drain.

Back to his old self, indeed.

Spamton G. Spamton is forty six years old. He celebrates his forty sixth birthday from the comfort of the second stay at the same mental hospital that housed him in his twenties. The food got a little better, the therapists a little more willing to ‘humor him’ about his gender identity. His hairline has receded into oblivion. His soul got saved.

There’s an asshole clown that taunts him daily, which sounds like the ramblings of a mad schizophrenic, but Jevil is very real. Very real and very loud, always grinning and laughing and making a nuisance of himself at every opportunity.

Today, on his birthday, the asshole clown gives him a cupcake as some kind of extended gay joke he’s not privy to the punchline of. He’s not even sure where the damn clown gets them from or why he ate it. It could’ve been poisoned, for all he knew.

It's delicious.

Jevil is forty six years old. He celebrates his birthday on the boardwalk, listening to waves crash into the rocks as he holds a smoked turkey leg in each hand like he’s king of Cyber City, alternating taking a bite out of each. He’s perched on the hood of his truck looking down at the bustle of people enjoying the sun. Spamton is sitting in his lap, not even complaining about the possibility of being perceived as a ‘dirty sodomite’ by passerby, for once.

Spamton’s been getting better about that in general, actually.

They both have, in their own little ways.

He kisses Spamton on the lips, grinning as he intentionally smears their lipsticks together into a gray mess across two faces. He loves Spamton, he loves him so much with every fiber of his being that it makes him laugh as he kisses him.

It’s the best day of Jevil’s life.

The best day until tomorrow.

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