#-Because NO i can't handle even thinking about what some people have been gone through. sorry about that

[imsofreakingtired]

Can we PLEASE get an angsty sevika!Xreader headcannon for reader who is a removing shimmer addict and is struggling with cravingssss

omg i love that. also, sorry this took a while, couldn't figure out a way with a hc list so i wrote it as a drabble instead 😭

hold me, console me

content warning(s): depictions of addiction and withdrawal

"come on, don't leave me, it can't be that easy babe if you believe me, i guess i'll get on a plane fly to your city, excited to see your face hold me, console me, and then i'll leave without a trace"

~~~

“Sevika,” you groan, “I’m going to die.” 

“I hope not.”

She walks into the room, twisting off her prosthetic arm. This is a good sign. It means she is ready to settle down with you, that she doesn’t have any plans of leaving again for a while. 

Sevika sits down on the side of the bed where you’re lying with your knees curled against your chest, trying to breathe through wave after wave of pain. She places her warm hand on your thigh and straightens your leg. Her voice is soft. “Stretch, baby. It’ll get easier.” 

What they didn’t tell you about coming off Shimmer: the muscle spasms. The blinding headaches. Your body can’t adjust to the sudden drop in energy after such intense and constant enhancement of the senses. It is recoiling at normality. It is punishing itself for ever getting hooked in the first place. 

You can deal with the physical symptoms, though. You’ve been through some shit. You’re tough enough to handle a little pain. What you can’t stand are the cravings, the nightmares, the paranoia. You wake up several times a night in a cold sweat, shaking uncontrollably after some terrifying, nonsensical dream. You break down at the most inconvenient times, convinced that Sevika has finally gotten sick of you, that she’s leaving you, that she’s already gone. On really bad days you’re ready to kill for just one shot, one tiny vial, just to take the edge off. You crave the kick, the rush of heat in your head, the burst of energy. The feeling that you can do anything. Even as it killed you slowly, even as you felt the aftereffects eroding your body. You know in the back of your mind that the decision to quit has saved your life. But gods, was it hard to stay off it. 

Sevika watches your face with gentle eyes as she massages your legs. Her big hand, rough with calluses, powerful and tender. She is strong even without Shimmer. When you were using it, you felt almost like you deserved her, that you belonged to her—that you could repay her even a little for what she did for you. 

Now you look up at her and wonder what she sees first—the traces of Shimmer, the faded pink veins lining your skin? The desperation in your eyes? The way your limbs lie, depleted and scarred from the past use of the substance? 

“Sevika,” you say.

“Hmm.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Me when I was on it.” You shift on the bed, your head feeling heavy. “You know…you know how I fucked like you never saw before when I was on it.” You mean it to be a joke, but you can’t bring yourself to smile. This is your fear: that she met you when you weren’t quite yourself, that she’s disappointed in the person you actually turned out to be. 

She’s quiet for a moment. Then she asks in a low voice, “do you think I was with you because of the way Shimmer made you in bed?”

“I’m useless now,” you say. You feel the tears burning behind your eyes, and you’re ashamed of the way your voice falters. “I can’t even lift a full crate of bottles.” 

Sevika moves closer to you. You push yourself away, not because you don’t want her to touch you, but because you don’t want her pity. You dread some words of nonsense flattery, empty reassurance. You don’t want her to lie to you, then turn her back, the way countless others have done before. It was part of the reason why you started using Shimmer in the first place—so you could feel, for once in your life, that you were powerful—someone people wanted to stay for. 

She doesn’t say anything of the sort, though. You’re lying on your side now, back turned to her so you can’t see her face. 

She says, “get over here, idiot.” 

You turn your head. She lies down beside you, aligning her body close against yours. The heat of her skin feels good against your aching back. She wraps her right arm over your waist, pulling you close to her. 

Into your shoulder she murmurs, “you’re not useless.” 

The tears gather in your eyes and you can’t stop them from falling into the bedsheets. 

“It’ll get easier,” she says again. She brushes your hair away, kisses your neck. “And I’m always gonna want you.” 

“How did you do it?” you whisper. “It must have been so much worse for you.” 

“Baby, does this body look like it’s built the same way as yours?” 

You laugh weakly. 

“It was hell,” Sevika says. “So I get it.” 

You reach for her hand and hold it close to your heart. “It’s still beating, right?” You ask. 

“Yes, thank god.” 

“You’re not leaving, right?” 

“No, fool. Get some rest.” 

You let your eyes close. Your breathing grows even. Sevika is not a woman of many words, but you know that when she makes a promise she will keep it.

~~~

thank you @prettyinpink69 for the req :)

[indycinders]

Gonna add my own thoughts to this too because this was cool to think about /w\ maybe mild spoilers ahead?

When you think about them and MC, it makes a lot more sense.

Caleb wants you to only see him as that person that's always been by your side, that's always played with you and took care of you and protected you. He never wanted you to see his dark thoughts, his obsession, his feelings. And his eyes reflect that. He's carefully guarded and chooses what you see. It's almost scary how good he is at manipulation and deception. I wouldn't want to piss off the Colonel if I wasn't MC haha.

Even after the events of his chapter and when you unlock him, in his following memories, he still struggles with dropping that mask after you know everything. Even if you accept all of him, as he is, flaws and all, he's so conditioned to this that it's his default now. In one of his phone calls, we hear his vulnerability with him saying something like, "Even if he's the worst Caleb of all of them, you still want him?"

Caleb is so tragic to me but that also makes me love him so much more. I'm waiting on the last shard before I peruse his myth, so my feelings might change, but what I know so far makes my heart break.

When it comes to Sylus, he's got that carefully crafted criminal leader persona. And that's what it is, a persona. Made from the struggle of survival, from the judgment of humans, from not being good enough for whatever reason he feels that is. I wouldn't say he's manipulative, but he is definitely calculating. He's playing 4D chess while we're all still figuring out checkers.

His eyes are so expressive because that's how he communicates. He feels the weight of responsibility for a position such as his and he can't often let himself outwardly show emotion. In his Night of Secrecy card, when he covers our eyes, even then he's hiding himself from us. We get a glimpse of him losing control of that facade and giving into that weakness, that vulnerability that we cause him.

I also think he's not afraid of showing his emotions through his eyes simply because of his power with the Aether core and ability to know people's desires. And maybe a part of him lets himself be vulnerable in that way because he can expose others vulnerabilities.

We know he's not guarded like Caleb. We see it in the way he treats us, the way he cares and shows love. Anything we ask, he has an answer for. He never lies, not really. He might omit the truth but he also expects us to be keen enough to know what he's saying. Like, again, in his Night of Secrecy card. He tried to slip away by making an excuse but knew we would catch on and follow him.

I haven't gone through his Conqueror myth yet (thanks Caleb for distracting me lmao), but I know his Abysm Sovereign myth. We know some part of him feels self loathing and almost shame for what he was.

In my opinion, he doesn't bother fully masking his emotions because he knows that the only one worthy and capable of handling what he lets slip through is us. He knows that we can and have accepted every part of him, good and bad.

He said it best in Razor's Grip. "There is no love purer than mine." And there really isn't.

Not to be weird on main or anything, but I've been studying screenshots of Caleb's expressions and it's so funny how comparatively less expressive his eyes are to Sylus'.

Like Sylus communicates 98% with those big red eyes of his. Caleb communicates only very VERY big changes of his expression solely through his eyes.

So I was compiled some eye screenshots because I really love the expressions Sylus has and did the same with him, (and have way too many saved), but I realised how little his eyes share. These however, are some gems;

When compared to Sylus's eyes though;

It becomes super obvious how much of Caleb's expressions are pretty performative, in the kind of way that is very familiar to me as an autistic person, and feeds in quite nicely to the common theme of him wearing a mask throughout the main story.

Sylus' communication is done mostly verbally because the game actively conveys the fact that he doesn't emote or physically show his feelings very often (he's labelled cold or numb or distant, in a similar way to Zayne, but with more disdain from those around him. It's only the twins who have ever looked at him and realised he was lonely.) because of that his expressions reflect it. His lips don't move much, but his eyes tell stories for him because they're much harder to control.

Meanwhile, Caleb's eyes betray him in big moments. When he's overwhelmed or very emotional, often in the negative, but for the most part he keeps it under control and performs his emotions through the use of smiles and expression. Without his full face, his expressions don't come through properly.

🤷 it doesn't mean a lot, but it was fun to dig through while I was compiling images.

[catnykit]

dont'ya hate it when interesting asthetics are aslo connected with 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 which means that you came for pretty images and you got triggering vents

[lacydollette]

RECKLESS ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: bf!sam x fem!reader

warnings: angst, established relationship, sam being overprotective, fighting, lots of blaming each other, mentions of dean being in hell, some fluff, wc: 1.9k

You slipped out of the motel room as quietly as you could, not wanting to wake Sam. You had been driving for days, hunting a wendigo near the outskirts of Iowa. But the hunt wasn’t even the hardest part—it was the weight of everything else. Ever since Dean's deal, since he was dragged into Hell, Sam had been on edge, more protective than ever. And you could feel it creeping into every part of your lives.

You glanced at Sam one more time as he lay sprawled on the bed, finally catching up on some sleep. He deserved that. Still, you knew you needed more supplies. You were running low on salt, and in the need of a few essentials plus, you figured a little food wouldn't hurt.

The grocery store was only ten minutes away, so you grabbed the keys and your bag, telling yourself you’d be quick. On your way inside the store, you checked for your phone—"dang it", you cursed, you must've left it at the motel.

So you quickly breezed through the aisles, grabbing salt, herbs, and a few sandwiches and snacks for Sam. You loaded everything into the car and started heading back, happy to know you’d have Sam’s favorite food waiting for him.

But while you were on your way home, Sam was already panicking, pacing around the motel room. He’d woken up to find you gone, no note, no message, just your phone lying there. His mind raced through every worst-case scenario. Every minute you were gone, his worry grew until it twisted into anger. Losing so many people did that to a person, and Sam had lost more than enough.

He couldn’t loose you too.

When you finally walked in, expecting Sam to be asleep, you were met by the intense sight of him, eyes locked on you the second you opened the door, and tension radiating off him.

"Where the hell were you?" Sam's voice was filled with frustration and disappointment. "I... I went to grab some salt from the market. We were almost out," you answered, confused by his reaction. "Why? What's the matter?"

Sam rubbed over his face in frustration, walking toward you. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, as if ensuring you were in one piece. Even though you were back now, his heart was still racing. "Heck y/n, I woke up and you were just gone. Do you know what that feels like after everything? I thought something bad had happened to you." His voice was shaking with distress.

"I was literally gone for half an hour! I thought you'd be asleep. I didn't want to wake you," you explained, fumbling with your words. "I wanted to be quick in case we needed the salt. It took me longer because there was this huge crash on the highway—"

"Wow, that's a perfect excuse." He cut in. "And you didn't think of a way to call me? Let me know you'd be gone longer? No, no... the only thing on your mind was getting some damn salt." His words stung, more than you expected. "You need to calm down." you replied, trying to pull yourself together. Was he really so distrustful? "I know I should've told you before leaving, but look at me—I'm fine. Everything's fine."

Sam ran a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes. "Goddamn it, I don't care if you're fine right now. It's the principle, y/n. You do shit without thinking, and I can't stand it." He took a deep breath, trying to control his anger. "There are so many things that could've happened to you out there. How can you be so careless?"

That hit a nerve, and your frustration bubbled over. "Oh, so you think I can't protect myself? After everything we've been through—after all the times I've saved you and Dean—you think I can't handle something as simple as a grocery run?"

Sam's face darkened. "This isn't about your skills. I know you're a good hunter. But you're reckless, y/n. You don't understand what it's like to see someone you love get torn away from you because of one mistake, one slip-up. And then to wake up and think it's happening again..." His voice broke, some vulnerability showing.

You softened slightly, realizing how deep Sam's fear went. But you weren't going to let him accuse you of being reckless. "I do understand, Sam. I know how much losing Dean broke you. But I'm not him. I'm not going to disappear, but you also can't suffocate me because of it."

"I'm not trying to suffocate you. Fuck, you really don't get it, do you?" Sam's voice rang in your ears, and for a second, he just looked at you with disappointment in his eyes. "Just forget it y/n."

The sudden intensity of his words, the way he yelled, startled you. Sam wasn't the type to lose his temper like this—not with you. Sure, you two had your disagreements, but this was different. He was on edge, and you could tell that this wasn't just about the salt. It was about everything that had been weighing on him since losing Dean.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, seeing his fists clench like that scared you, so the only thing you could do right now was walk away. Your voice was quieter now, the fight draining you. "I'll take a walk, clear my head."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you turned to leave the room. The last thing you wanted was to fight with Sam, especially not like this. But before you could reach the door, you felt his hand gently grasp your arm, pulling you back.

"Wait." His voice was softer now, the anger replaced by guilt. Sam pulled you close, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as if letting go would somehow mean losing you again. You relaxed into him, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. The warmth of his arms and the sound of his breathing helped calm you both down.

For a while, neither of you spoke. It was as if both of you needed that quiet, the space to breathe and let the tension resolve. And after a few moments, you pulled back just enough to look up at him. His eyes were softer now, and you could see he felt bad for snapping.

"You know," you said quietly, "I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to worry about losing me every time I step out the door. But you also have to let me breathe, Sam."

Sam let out a long sigh, his hand moving to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I know," he murmured, though his voice still carried the weight of doubt. "I just... after Dean, I've been going nuts. Every hunt, every day, I'm constantly thinking about what could go wrong, what I could lose next. It's like I can't shut it off."

You reached up, cupping his face with both hands, your thumbs brushing gently along the stubble on his jaw. "Sam, I understand. I really do. But you can't live like this—constantly on high alert, constantly afraid. It's not fair to you. And it's not fair to us."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment, savoring the comfort of your hands on his skin. "I don't know how to stop," he admitted quietly.

"I think it's always going to be there," you said softly. "The fear. But you don't have to let it control you." You paused, searching his face for a moment before continuing. "I'm strong, Sam. I know how to handle myself. And I promise you, if I ever feel like I'm all up in my head, you'll be the first person I call. But you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

Sam opened his eyes, looking down at you, and for the first time that night, you saw a flicker of relief in his expression. He nodded, though you could tell it wasn't easy for him. "I can try," he said, his voice a little stronger now. "I'll try."

"That's all I'm asking," you whispered, giving him a small, reassuring smile. You stayed there in his arms, the tension easing itself. Finally, Sam spoke again, his tone lighter but still a hint of guilt in it. "I guess I owe you for getting the salt." You chuckled softly, leaning your head back against his chest. "Yeah, you do. I went through a lot of trouble for that salt."

"Next time, maybe wake me up before you leave," he said, a small smile on his lips, “Or at least don't forget your phone."

"Deal," you agreed with a playful grin. "No more disappearing acts. But you have to promise me something, too." His brows furrowed slightly, "What's that?" he asked. "You have to promise to stop worrying so much. At least a little. You're going to give yourself a heart attack at this rate."

Sam chuckled, the sound low and warm in his chest. "I'll do my best," he promised, “but no guarantees.” You smiled, reaching up to kiss him gently. "I'll take it." Sam kissed you back, slow and soft. When he pulled away, there was a warmth in his eyes, a quiet appreciation for the way you understood him, even when he didn't always know how to explain himself.

"Come on," you said, tugging him toward the table. "I got your favorite sandwiches, you need to eat." Sam hesitated for a moment, glancing at the filled grocery bags. But then he let out a sigh and nodded, he definitely needed these sandwiches now.

"Thank you, baby." He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before grabbing the plastic bags and putting everything away. The room still felt heavy with the weight of what you were both going through, but at least you were in it together. You were safe. He was safe. And for now, everything was okay.

kinda need to fight with Sam just for him to be all soft and cutesy with me after and make up..

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags: @gibson-g1rl @nuemanfilms @beausling @angelicjackles @sammyluvr @samwinchesterswifu @sampilled @seasons-of-death @starkeysprincess @rubyvhs @deansenvy @ribbonprincess @mxltifxnd0m

[bitchfitch]

My mother's bf had a fairly major surgery (he's fine and recovering well DW) and he's going to be housebound for his birthday this year, so I've been enlisted to come up with a fancy birthday meal for the special birthday boy that's primarily fruit and veg, sweeter than savory, and is something he's never had before.

Bc I'm making watermelington. It's beef Wellington, but watermelon. bc my mom only found out recently you can use watermelon as a tuna substitute. And I know that you can substitute most higher quality beef cuts with tuna or salmon.... usually. Anyways the idea fascinates her so I'm hoping to use that for bonus points.

Now he's off his ass on pain killers so I can't like. Ask him if he's ever had something before. so to meet my brief I've decided to just. commit a novel hate crime against the British I guess.

Anyways. I'm writing this because I need to walk myself through this process and think it'll be surreal enough to be worth taking y'all along for.

So, Beef Wellington. In its most basic bitch arrangement is a beef tenderloin wrapped in prosciutto/really thin bacon, with a layer of mushroom and onion mush, that has been further wrapped in mustard slathered puff pastry.

We will be ship of Theseusing this. bc beef Wellington is like. the opposite of what he wants. Which is why it's funny.

Puff pastry-> it's still just puff pastry

this one doesn't have to change (aka I can't be fucked to do pastry prep and I'm just gonna use store bought it's Fine.)

the prosciutto is also just going to be prosciutto.

Thin meat

Beef tenderloin-> watermelon,

Tbh this is a pretty 1 to 1 substitution. I'll bake the slices at like. 250-300 for an hour or so ahead of the rest of prep to dry it out a bit. bc you can't like. Sear watermelon to seal in the water like you can beef. By definition it's a very wet fruit (like me when I fall into the lake). Ill Add salt and chili and lime juice while baking maybe. this is the easy part

The mushroom mush-> salsa done bad style

As the word mush implies, this is meant to be a very soft mix. It adds a lot of nuttiness to the wellington that rounds out all of the salt from the meats. I'm replacing it with white person salsa(the birthday boy can't handle spice). Tomato, lime juice, parsley, avocado, cucumber, feta, and maybe mango so I can have an excuse to have a lil mango treat. I said I wasn't making it spicy. I'm still putting a bit of chili in it. bc it'll be better like that. This is also a ridiculously wet bit of mush, Even the original mushrooms have too much water. I'll figure something out.

Mustard -> jelly

He lives in a big city. those preserve sections are massive. I'll find a weird one. maybe apricot.

Prep:

We're in the mind palace kitchen, I have not attempted any of this. We're just thinking real hard about it and I'll edit as needed on the day and post results.

The watermelon

Preheat oven to eh. 300f? We want low and slow to dry things out without it taking a year. but idk what his oven is like. If it's gentle I'll bump it up another ten-twenty.

Slather some watermelon slices in salt chili powder and lime juice mixture.

bake for 30 min on a wire rack or directly on the oven racks (after cleaning thoroughly) if he doesn't have a wire rack. with a drip try underneath to catch the drippage. check frequently. Have one slice that's for being poked to see if it's approaching being meat. Bake longer if needed.

Salsa bad style

chop everything up and add it to a pan with some oil in it. Tbh I don't think the type of oil you use for cooking matters if you're not like, getting near any smoke points. Most people can't tell the difference unless you made your food bland as hell.

Anyways there's some wildly different moisture contents on the list so there has to be an Order to cook off as much water as possible without getting yucky.

Tomatoes and cucumbers go in together with some salt to get the cucs softening, then the mango chunks and lime juice. Once most of the water is gone the avocado feta and parsley can go in. There is a good amount of water in avocados but they're delicate and don't pan fry well, so we're just going to ignore their water crimes and hope for the best. They just need to be evenly mixed through the rest of the mush.

Putting it together

lay out the puff pastry, cut into sections to wrap each watermelon slice individually with.

Slather in jam

Take the prosciutto and lay it out on half of each section of the pastry,

spoon the salsa onto that

Melon

Another layer of salsa

another layer of thin meat

Fold the pastry over the top and pinch the edges bc watermelon slices are not a rollable shape and I don't want to carve a watermelon into a tube for this because that sounds irritating.

Brush with egg wash and more parsley

Cook in oven following the pastry's preferred temp and time. it's fucking watermelon, you're not getting ecoli from it.

watermelington :)

I'm serving it with baked sweet potatoes and spinach based salad with whatever toppings are left over from making the salsa.

anyways thank you for joing me on this thought experiment. I will post updates once the deed is done. I'm sorry to every British person ever.

[mixelation]

i read through part 2. spoilers i guess. also, again, if you can't handle reading critique of a professionally published book, don't read

so the reviews on storygraphs indicate a lot of people were frustrated with part 1 because zetian is basically confined to a room the whole time. i do think this whole section could have been condensed by a lot because it was pretty repetitive and filled with a lot of characters just explaining "laborism" (communism, basically) to each other and also with the nuance and vocabulary of the average twitter user, but i don't actually think it was a bad writing choice. it lets the breakneck speed of the previous book take a break and lets zetian orient herself to the next step in her... whatever her plan is. she is a uneducated 18 year old whose only talent is having a lot of qi, suddenly being handed a crown and betrothed to an emperor deadset on revolutionizing society. seeing her learn to navigate this new type of life is genuinely an interesting concept

so what is zetian's plan? one of my big criticisms of this series in general is that what Zetian is even trying to do at any given moment is frequently completely unclear. if you read my Iron Widow review, I said that the later ~2/3s of the book feel really unfocused because Zetian doesn't have a real goal or driving force. things just happen because the plot requires them to happen. Heavenly Tyrant is..... a little better about this. Zetian wants to kill the "gods" and get Shimin back. Qin Zheng, the emperor, also wants to kill the gods. This part is solid and the plotting revolving around making this happen while the gods can see their every move is easy to follow with clear action -> consequence.

but then there's zetian's other goals about making society better, especially for women. she doesn't seem to have.... any sort of real plan here? she has very few specific goals for improving the lives of women, and when she does come up with a goal (like getting more female pilots), it's often unclear how exactly she thinks her actions will lead to the outcome she wants or what the outcome will look like. then some outcome happens and it feels more like we just hit that part of the story outline rather than an organic consequence of characters' actions. and "zetian keeps doing shit despite being bad at planning" is a fine character trait, don't get me wrong, but the writing is not good enough to make this feel like it's what's happening instead of just a bunch of "just trust me bro" moments

another complaint i had about Iron Widow is that we get told all these worldbuilding details for qi and how the mechs work, but none of it is actually used to be plot relevant. this.... also gets a little better. but not a lot better. mostly we just see Zetian struggling in battle a lot, even though she should theoretically be more experienced and have all this special training from Qin Zheng, which made me wonder why she's the empress at all. she's bad at politics and she keeps flubbing her robot battles. oh, plus-- the fights are not written super well. i know Zetian can pull the tails off her nine tailed fox mech and form them into lances, but i still don't really know what a hundun looks like??? also what happens to the lances she drops? and they just gone? what's happening

we do slowly see her get better at politics in part 2, but it's slow going and also largely boring. the "laborism" theory as presented feels juvenile and a lot of the societal problems are just "telling" and not "showing." there's a few scenes where we actually get to see problems illustrated, but they're few and far between, and there's so much boring internal monologues and poorly written dialogue spaced between them.

and guys.... the dialogue. it's so bad. everyone speaks with the exact same voice, and that one voice does not adequately mimic how real humans speak. there's a line where "and/or" literally appears in the dialogue.* every other spoken sentence ends with an exclamation mark. i grew up reading fanfiction so more exclamations mark than usual seems fine to me, but it's SO MANY. plus a lot of descriptions are written like the writer is unsure of what things are actually called? i don't know how to describe this feeling but i don't like it. it's like a watered down version of when fanfics will say stuff like "an oven-like device"

*yes i KNOW some people say this irl. i say this sometimes. do you think an ancient emperor who speaks with a cockney accent** says this???

**I'M NOT MAKING THIS UP

i don't think i really talked about this in my Iron Widow review, but this series has a lot of characters that are there for structural support and nothing else. an example in Iron Widow would be Sima Yi, who's there because a strategist character is needed, but barely has a personality and zero interesting things about him. there's no point to him except that this specific type of role needs to be played by someone. and that's fine in small doses. some characters are just there to be the usher at the theatre. Heavenly Tyrant is better at making its side characters actual characters (like Wan'er and Taiping), but then there's still more and more named characters you have to keep track of who are barely characters. like in part 2, Qin Zheng has to go into quarantine for... almost all of part 2, so Zetian needs a new copilot and recruits two prisoners. one of them is basically not there, and the other is a guy named Di Renjie whose narrative job is to be there and occasionally lecture other people about prison reform to remind you that he is a person. he's barely present at all and has no emotional or narrative impact, so it doesn't feel like much when he dies. there's not enough room in the novel to flesh him out (it's not impossible to communicate a character quickly, but this book doesn't seem to be good enough at character writing to do this) or to explore the absolutely horrific situation zetian forced him into, even though this seems like it definitely should be explored because it's what happened to her. he's just there because the plot needs her to have a copilot who's not qin zheng. zetian does spare a few thoughts of guilt about di renjie, but he's very much a non-character

as for the quarantine thing..... qin zheng gets confined to a single "sterile" room because his 200 year old body supposedly has no immunity to modern pathogens. my educated scientific opinion was "that is bullshit evolutionary biology" so (SPOILERS) i was relieved when it turned out to be a lie. however i need you to understand that that is the tone of this book. i read a completely bullshit explanation, knew it was bullshit, but everything is so overexplained yet immature that I was just like "yeah, seems like that's real for this world"

i will say the Fake Quarantine Reveal briefly had me excited. but i have read the first couple chapters of part 3 and it's just about sex. these two do not have enough chemistry to make this interesting or spicy, and you guys know i love characters who hate each other so much they simply must have sex about it. nope, these two just regular hate each other and their interactions are largely unpleasant. please bring back the plot

their safeword is "private property" and once again i am choosing to believe this is a joke for my own sanity

i've been reading heavenly tyrant (the sequel to iron widow by xiran jay zhao). thoughts after finishing the first part below the cut.

note my impression is mostly critical so far, and so clicking will reveal negativity. i assume most people have control over their own ability to gauge if they can handle this or not, but i've been proved wrong before

bullet points:

i feel the writing has improved on a structural level, but frequently veers into strange twitter-esque rants about the evils of capitalism? and often there are very first draft vibes to descriptions

there is a scene-- i shit you not-- where zetian accuses qin zheng (a legendary emperor who was frozen for 200 years that zetian woke up) of treating her like he owns her, and then makes a quip about how a guy who's against private property shouldn't be like that. qin zheng then replies-- i shit you not-- by explaining the difference between private and personal property. then he says something like "i have to go reform the education system" and leaves. i choose to believe this is a joke for my own sanity, but it is genuinely unclear

one of my complaints about iron widow is that the last 2/3-ish of the book seem to lack focus because zetian doesn't really have a specific goal, she's just doing stuff. in the first third of this installment, she spends 85% of her time confined to a single room. so now she doesn't seem to have much of a goal (she keeps talking about learning how qin zheng became powerful, taking that power, and killing him... but it's unclear why she wants to do this or what she thinks will happen if she succeeds) AND she's not even doing stuff.

i do like qin zheng more than shimin or yizhi. probably because he is the only one in this book making any sort of decisions. that being said, his ~toxic situationmance~ with zetian isn't... like... fun? they just don't like each other

if you liked yizhi or shimin then bad news!!!! they're barely here!!!! i didn't really care so i'm having fun with this new guy. how are you going to uplift the common man but live in a palace, new guy? hmm?

also zetian has gone from "ridiculous but fun to watch break things" to just like. unlikeable. it's to the point where it's hard to feel bad for her because some of her problems really do feel like they wouldn't exist if she was just, like, polite.

ANOTHER complaint i had about iron widow was that there was too much telling instead of showing. i felt this had improved a little with heavenly tyrant, as we see zetian actually attempting positive interactions with women (one of her repeatedly stated goals in the first book was wanting to help girls, and yet we barely saw her give a shit about any individual woman) and the narrative actually gives itself enough room to have zetian and qin zheng interact. however qin zheng keeps giving speeches about new policies he's going to use to fix society and folks, we have not been shown all these societal problems. like at all. there's medical debt? educational debt? no named character has these problems. i did not know these problems existed in this society before this speech.

also his big plans really do read like a 16 year old on tumblr making up an imaginary government based on some posts they read and 0 real world experience. slay

a lot of the reviews on storygraph complain it's too slow but honestly i read the first ten chapters really quickly because like. what is happening here. we'll see if anything manages to happen in the next part

[hiiragi7]

Things I've experienced post-Final Fusion:

All of a sudden, the days felt really... really... really long. I never really felt like there was any time in the day prior to final fusion; living my life in parts, I had never experienced such continuous flow of time before. It's long.

It feels like I now have a lot more time to do things in the day, and I have to be careful not to push myself too hard. I've found myself being online less and less and getting a lot more involved in my offline hobbies and reading. I have a lot more time to work towards things I want to do.

I can actually think about and plan for the future now, and it's incredibly exciting. I talk to my partner constantly about it. I am very excited about the future.

I can remember so much more of my childhood, things I never thought I would ever remember I now do. That being said, there are still things I don't remember, likely tied to other memory issues, and I've made my peace with that.

While my memory certainly got significantly better in many ways, I've realized I struggle with non-dissociative memory issues as well, and I will live with those issues for the rest of my life; it's just how my brain developed, and that's okay.

Speaking of memory, I can remember things freely that before were limited to the memory banks of my individual parts. I no longer have to worry about what parts hold which memories and go about tracking them down; I as a whole either remember something or I don't, and of my memories, I can remember any of them whenever I want.

I feel a sense of ownership over my life, over my memories and my sense of self and my body. I can look at it all and very confidently say "that's me", and I feel and know it to be 100% true. A long way away from not being able to recognize myself in the mirror.

I can't dissociatively "take a break" from life the way I used to (ie switching out and letting another part handle it), and while it took a long adjustment period to get used to this, I'm okay with that; I have other ways to take breaks while still being present, I can listen to music or watch videos. If I really just need to be unconscious, I take a nap.

I had to come to terms with the fact I couldn't push myself past my limits anymore in the way that I used to, and that this is in fact an expression of self-care for me. I used to be able to push far past what I should have been able to, especially with regards to physical pain, and to some extent I can still do this under specific circumstances, but it is no longer something that I will do in my day-to-day life living with disability and chronic pain.

Actually existing in my body now, I have come to realize just how much chronic pain I have been in. It's made me a lot more alert to my needs and how to care for myself, what makes it better and what makes it worse.

When people say "there's always a chance you'll split again", it doesn't scare me; it comforts me to know my brain would still know how to cope if such an extreme situation occured that I needed to split again. I've worked through dissociative barriers, I could do it again. I know what lies at the end of that path is love.

No part of me has ever gone away. Even fully fused, we are all still here. I can even still communicate with myself as parts if I choose to. I still have parts, they just look different now. There are no barriers between us.

My parts held a lot of different aspects of my identity to them, aspects I'm still to this day sorting out. I've had a lot of realizations about who I am as a person post-final fusion, especially with regards to gender and disability. A lot of things about myself were formerly very heavily fragmented and dissociated which no longer are, and I'm still making sense of them.

I no longer experience flashbacks and nightmares. This is a major thing for me I sometimes still am in disbelief about, my nightmares used to be so severe that I would refuse to sleep because of them, and my flashbacks were horrible and caused very intense physical sensations. I no longer have them, and that's incredible.

Life is so much more vivid and colorful than I ever realized. I never realized how dull everything felt and looked before final fusion. It feels like a complete perspective shift that is hard to grasp in words.

I can feel my body so much more now physically than I ever could before. I feel each of my limbs, I feel changes in temperature, I feel my own breath, I feel different textures and sensations, everything I hear and see and feel and taste has so much more depth to it now.

I have emotions! A whole lot of them, and I can feel all of them. I can feel emotions that might be percieved as "contradictory" at the same time, I can feel emotions over little things and big things and just about anything at all. I'm no longer limited to feeling my emotions in parts, and it's incredibly freeing.

On that note, I have so much more emotional capacity now for feeling all of the love I have for myself and others. It's wonderful. I can't shut up about it.

[twilightkitkat]

I know we have Laura, but do you ever think of how the other kids at the X-mansion would react to Logan?

Logan was a male role model for them. He might not have been as much as a "father" as Charles but he was family. He'd help teach the children things that the other X-men wouldn't, taking them seriously despite their age. He'd sneak them snacks or "contraband" when the other X-men weren't looking. He'd explain things that the other X-men hid.

Logan was likely the first person to treat them like anyone else. He didn't judge them for their mutations, didn't get angry at or scared of Rogue even when she almost killed him. He didn't hide or sugarcoat the truth for them, he said it bluntly. He wasn't mean, but he was honest. He treated them like they could handle it and this meant they respected him, too.

He was the first person to believe in them and their abilities and teach them that they had their own choice. Like he said to Rogue: he wasn't there to be her father, he was there as her friend. He coexisted as a protector, someone who they could rely on as an authority figure when danger struck, but also as a supporter. He didn't argue with Rogue over what was the "right" thing to do regarding her ability or force her to go back to the X-mansion when she wanted to leave. He told her that he trusted her judgment and just wanted to make sure she was doing it because she wanted to.

Logan knows what it's like to be restricted. To be collared and treated like "less than." He hates feeling caged in and pressured, so he went out of his way to make sure that above all the children knew that they had a choice. They had the ultimate say in their own lives.

The other X-men taught the children to be kind, to be understanding, and to be cautious. Logan taught them to be self-confident, to learn new skills, to set boundaries, and to make choices just for themselves. He's the one who looked at these kids and told them they were allowed to be selfish when everyone else told them otherwise.

And then... Logan was gone. And he was dead. Permanently.

The children kept living, but it was never the same. Of course, they missed him. How couldn't they? He was the first person to try to understand them just for the sake of it, without trying to poke and prod. He was safe. He didn't try to influence them one way or another, he just listened. Nobody else filled those shoes when he left.

And then, by the time most of them were almost grown up, he came back. But it's different. He's different.

He's more jaded than he was before. Closed off in ways that even the most reserved children there weren't. He's tired and older and different from their Logan in ways they can't explain.

But he still looks at them in the eye, not above their head or at their feet. And he nods at them in acknowledgment. And he listens. And he's different but he's so painfully Logan despite it all.

It makes them want to cry. A few of them do.

And Logan... to his credit, takes it in stride. He ruffles their hair and pulls a few into sideways hugs. He grunts as Rogue launches herself into his arms but still holds her. He doesn't shy away.

But Logan isn't a part of the X-mansion, anymore. He visits, occasionally, but he's no longer an X-man. And never plans to be.

The only people he consistently interacts with from the X-mansion are Laura and, to some extent, Colossus and his trainees through Wade. And it almost stings more, that way. To know that he was capable of keeping in touch. That he'd do it for his daughter and Wade but not for them.

Do you ever think how the kids would feel about this? About finally having a version of the person they admired most back only for him to not want to stay? About him choosing to stay with Wade at his shitty, run-down apartment instead of coming back to them.

We, as the audience, can understand. He's traumatized and grieving and staying at the X-mansion would only be rubbing salt in the wounds and reopening cuts that finally are beginning to scab over. He's starting to move on from that chapter in his life, from the guilt and regret both before and after the X-men's deaths.

But the kids don't have that perspective. They were too young, back then, to truly gauge the environment and how Logan might have been kind, in his own way, but was never truly happy. Never felt free or at home. Like a bird coming back to the same, familiar cage because there's nowhere else to go.

And even now, they're too young to really separate their feelings from his choice. In a way, they think it's their fault. That they weren't reason enough for him to stay. That he abandoned them because he didn't want them anymore.

...And that couldn't be further from the truth, obviously, but it's complicated. It's a choice between cutting away some ties even if it hurts or getting tangled in them because all he can remember are their corpses. It's the choice between leaving them behind or being stuck in the past, reliving the same pain and guilt over and over.

And here's the thing: Logan was the one who taught the children to be selfish. Finally, finally, he's allowing himself to take his own advice.

[scary-grace]

if my heart was a house (chapter 2) - a shigaraki x f!reader fic

It's been nineteen years since Tomura was sentenced to death, and you've built a life in the space he left behind, braced each day for the worst. You're prepared for everything - the questions your daughter asks, the memories that sting a little more in the winter, the specter of the news you've been afraid of for years. But of all the things life's thrown your way, it's the one you haven't dared to hope for might be the one thing you can't handle. (cross-posted to Ao3) The prequel can be found here: what I can't remember nowwritten for @pixelcafe-network's Challenge Friday event! Banner/divider by @cafekitsune

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

It’s freezing when you step out of the community center, and only the fact that Chihiro’s waiting for you to pick her up at school prevents you from going right back in and borrowing a scarf and gloves from the bin of spares. You knew you should have dressed more warmly, but you didn’t realize there’d be so much wind. By the time you make to the car, your teeth are chattering, and the car always takes longer to warm up than you want it to. You moved to Hokkaido nineteen years ago because it was the last place anyone would look for you, and no one’s found you yet. You just wish the price of privacy didn’t include freezing your ass off in the moonless polar night.

You think Chihiro worries about you a little less lately. You’ve gone to a month of pottery classes, and you make sure to respond to messages in the PTA moms’ group text every so often, and once when Kaori’s crazy mom asked you to get tea, you agreed. You left that conversation feeling like you’d been through a tornado, but the important thing is that you’re trying. That Chihiro sees you trying. That when she moves away for school, her worry for you won’t hold her back.

Her comment about you not having friends hit a little too close to home, and it’s still hanging around in your head. You used to have friends — Tomura’s friends, and some of your own. You loved them. You know they loved you. Half the reason you survived Tomura’s arrest and trial was because they were with you, suffering the same way, helpless to stop anything that was happening and trying all the same. Knowing all of that, it makes even less sense that you ran from them afterward.

But that’s always been who you are. When you’re hurt, when you’re scared, when you’re sad, you pull back from the world. You don’t like having your feelings where other people could see, and if you didn’t like having your feelings in front of anybody, there was no way you were having your baby in front of Tomura’s friends. You weren’t interested in how they felt about it. You didn’t want to hear what they’d say. And you didn’t want them involved, constantly circling, reminding you of everything you lost. Reminding your baby, once they were old enough to understand. Your new new job (you lost the first new one), your apartment, your friends, your city — it all started to feel like a prison. You could run, so you did.

Lately, though, you’ve been thinking about them. Enough to look them up and see that Toga’s a fairly well-known costume designer, and wish you could talk sewing with her; find out that Dabi’s doing okay, when you’d been worried ever since you met him that he’d wind up in prison; learn that Spinner’s a writer with a popular series of detective novels, famous for mercilessly skewering the police over their incompetence and corruption. You’ve thought about reaching out, seeing if they know anything about Tomura’s situation, if they’ve heard anything from him. Then you decided it wasn’t worth it. You don’t want to find out that he’s spent nineteen years talking to them and not to you.

Your car finally warms up. You take a deep breath, shove the thought of your old friends away, and drive.

Someone’s car spun out on the route you planned to take to the high school, and you call Chihiro to let her know you’ll be a little late. She doesn’t answer, but she probably just busy. The choir director is kind of a hardass, but Chihiro worships the ground she walks on, and she’d never interrupt a rehearsal for something like a call from her probably-clingy mom. You are a little clingy. You just don’t ever want her to wonder where you are. To spend even a second doubting that you’ll be there when she needs you.

You get to the school, park, and switch idly between channels on the radio, skipping away whenever you hear a snatch of the news. The choir kids trickle out of school slowly, talking through chattering teeth, and scatter to their parents’ cars. You watch for Chihiro, knowing that she stays late to talk to the choir director sometimes. But then the lights in the music room go out. The choir director steps out, locking the door behind her, and fear like you’ve never experienced in your life floods through you.

It feels like acid in your veins. You lurch out of your car and get in the director’s way as she heads for hers. “Where’s Chihiro?”

“She left at the break,” the director says. “Typically I don’t allow it, but she’s an excellent student and she’s never asked before —”

Chihiro left. Chihiro left school an hour ago. You can barely speak. “What happened? Did she get sick? Why didn’t you call me —”

“She said she would,” the director says, bewildered. “She didn’t?”

“If she’d called me, I’d have picked her up already.” Your voice stutters, fractures. “What happened?”

“She and her friends were discussing something. A news article, I think. I doubt that’s what caused it.” The director is frowning now, disconcerted to your terrified. “When we resumed practice, she was distraught, and asked to be excused early.”

Distraught. You’ve never heard anybody use that word to describe your daughter. “Did she say why?”

“She needed to go home. She said it was a family emergency.”

A family emergency? You’re her family. Your parents passed away when she was in middle school and you and your brother haven’t spoken in years. What family is she talking about? You don’t need that answer right now. You need to find her. “Thank you,” you choke out, and run back to your car.

You and she live five miles outside of town — on a big road that gets plowed and salted, sure, but still outside of town. Could she walk all the way home in an hour? You don’t think so. Not in this weather. And you can’t think of anywhere else she would go. You drive slowly, carefully along the road, your heart rising into your throat at each bend in the road and sinking when the stretch of road ahead of you continues to be empty. Your mind twists in agony. A family emergency. What does that even mean? It crosses your mind that it’s the perfect excuse, one no teacher would ever refuse a student like Chihiro — but why wouldn’t she call you? Why would she start walking home in the dark? What is there that she thinks she can’t bring to you, that you wouldn’t help her with? You’d do anything for her. You just have to find her, and you’ll figure it out.

You catch up to her halfway home, her hands jammed into her pockets and her shoulders hunched against the cold, her breath billowing out in a frozen cloud. The relief of finding her lasts for only a second. Now you need to get her home. You flip on your hazard lights and slow to a crawl alongside her, rolling down your window. “Chihiro, get in the car!”

She doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even look your way. “I’m so glad I found you, but I don’t understand,” you say. “You must be freezing. Why didn’t you call me? I was so scared –”

You’re making this about you. It’s not about you. “Chihiro, please get in the car. I just want you to be safe. I love you —”

“Shut up!” She wheels on you, and you hit the brakes, more in shock than anything else. Your daughter’s eyes are swollen and bloodshot with tears, and her lips are cracked and bleeding in the cold. Her mouth is turned down like you haven’t seen it in more than a decade, but her eyes are hot with rage. “Don’t come near me. Don’t even talk to me. I didn’t call you because I hate you. I hate you! How could you do that to me?”

“Do what?” you ask.

“Lie,” Chihiro spits, or sobs. “How long were you going to lie to me, Mom? Were you ever going to tell me the truth about my dad?”

Your stomach drops. How did she find out? How many people know? “I never lied,” you say. “I never told you he was dead. I always told you —”

“He’s gone.” Chihiro’s nose is dripping. She looks frozen. “Don’t play that stupid game. You knew what I thought you meant when you say that, and you just let me think — you were always going to let me think he was —”

“How did you find out?”

“That’s all you care about? I hate you —”

Right now, you hate yourself, too. It hurts to hear Chihiro say that, hurts to know she’s so angry with you that she’d rather freeze than spend even a second in the car with you — but your feelings don’t matter right now. They stopped mattering nineteen years ago. This is about your daughter. You shove your feelings to one side. “You hate me,” you repeat, and she scoffs. “You can hate me just as much in the car as you can out there, and the car is warm.”

Chihiro squints at you as she wipes her eyes. “It’s not that far. I can walk.”

“Yeah. But it’ll take you another hour, and it’ll just keep getting colder.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “I won’t try to talk to you. In the car or when we’re home. Just — please, get in the car, Chihiro. You don’t have to hurt yourself to let me know you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry, Mom. This is way beyond angry.” Chihiro takes a deep breath and coughs on the cold air. “If you try to talk to me, I’m getting out again.”

You don’t deserve to feel relieved, but you do. You put the car in park and unlock the passenger-side door. “Okay.”

The drive home is awful, but at least it’s brief. The first thing Chihiro does after taking off her shoes and coat is head straight for the bathroom. The water switches on in the shower, and you’ll bet it’s scalding hot. She must be so cold. And so angry with you, angry enough to override her better judgment and drive her out onto the road alone. Is she right about you? Were you ever going to tell her the truth about Tomura? You don’t know. But you should have seen this coming, somehow. You could have seen it coming, would have, if you were doing anything but hiding from your own pain. Of course Chihiro’s furious with you. You deserve it.

Deserving it doesn’t make it hurt any less, so like always, you find something to keep you busy. You set out clean pajamas for Chihiro on her bed. Then you finish folding the laundry, emptying the dishwasher, folding the quilts that are still strewn across the couch from Chihiro’s movie night with Kaori over the weekend. After that it’s time to sew, and even with the focus paper-piecing takes and the noise of the sewing machine, you can’t shut out a single question: How did she find out?

The water in the shower shuts off. You hear Chihiro’s footsteps in the hallway, then the sound of her bedroom door shutting. Shutting, not slamming. You abandon your sewing machine, planning to go to your bedroom and stay there, leaving her the kitchen and the living room and not coming out until she goes to sleep. You don’t want her to have to look at you. Or maybe you just don’t want to see how she looks at you now.

The thought stops you at the threshold. You’ve made everything about what’s happened into something about you. Who are you helping by going to hide? Yourself. You’re protecting yourself from your daughter’s anger, which she deserves to express, and from the questions she probably wants to ask, which you should have answered a long time ago. You can’t hide. You need to stay here and be the person — the parent — you should have been all along. Even if it’s too late.

You hear the bedroom door open, but you don’t turn, and Chihiro comes closer with soft footsteps. She stops at the edge of the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“Making hot chocolate. Do you want some?”

“You’re being weird,” Chihiro says. She sounds unnerved. “I told you I hate you. Why aren’t you yelling? You’re not even crying. Do you even care?”

Your heart breaks a little bit, even as a surge of frustration rocks you. “It hurts to hear you say that,” you admit. No more lying. From here on out, you tell the truth. “But I don’t think it hurts as much as finding out your mom’s been lying to you for eighteen years.”

Chihiro’s quiet. She’s quiet, and you’re not trying to downplay what you did or run away from it, so you ask a question of your own. “How did you find out?”

The electric kettle goes off with a click. “The water’s done,” Chihiro says. “Are you making hot chocolate or not?”

She reminds you so much of Tomura — that same bluntness, that same impatience, that same affinity for cutting the knot. “Yeah. And some for you.”

Once you’ve both got your cups, you head to the living room. Chihiro unfolds all the blankets you folded earlier and burrows into them, and you sit in the armchair and pull your feet up and away from the floor. She watches you over the rim of her cup. “It’s weird when you do that,” she says. “It makes you look really young.”

It’s quiet for a second. “I guess you are kind of young. They said in school that most people don’t have kids until they’re thirty, and you were only twenty-two when you had me.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Four years older than you.”

It sounds wrong when you say it. Too young. Way too young. Chihiro looks unsettled. “I wouldn’t have a kid when I was twenty-two,” she says. “Why did you?”

You take a sip of hot chocolate, trying to calm your nerves. “I’ll tell you that and everything else. I want to know how you found out first.”

Chihiro’s eyes narrow, but to your surprise, she answers. “Takako at school — she watches that true-crime show. The one you don’t let me watch.”

“I never said you couldn’t watch it. I just said not on the TV out here,” you say. Chihiro rolls her eyes. “Your computer in your room is fair game.”

“My computer doesn’t get cable.”

“So pirate it,” you say with a shrug, and Chihiro nearly chokes on her next sip of hot chocolate. “I never said you couldn’t watch it at all.”

“Yeah. Like you never actually said my dad was dead,” Chihiro says. Ouch. “Do you want me to tell you or what? She watches that show, and you’re not the only mom who’s weird about it, so she tells us all about the episodes when they come out. I guess this week’s episode was about this guy Shigaraki Tomura who killed his whole family, and how he’s been on death row longer than anybody else in Japan. So we looked him up to see if he’s still alive — I guess the episodes get made in advance — and there were pictures of him at his trial. He has the same birthmark I do.”

You nod. “And the same eyes. Ever since you were a baby.”

Chihiro looks down into her cup. “One of my friends joked about it. I thought it was funny, so I laughed. But then I was thinking about it, and the — timing, I guess. And I realized you never said he was dead. My whole life, that was what I thought, but it wasn’t what you said.”

She takes another sip of hot chocolate. “I was looking at the pictures. From the trial, and you were in them. Your hair looked different, but I knew it was you. And I guess I — there was this one picture. From his sentencing. You’re holding his hands.”

You hadn’t realized someone snapped a photo, but you should have known. Your fingers still ache from the memory. Chihiro looks up, her eyes glassy again. “It’s him, isn’t it? My dad’s Shigaraki Tomura.”

“That’s him,” you say. You can’t call your voice steady. Flat might be better. “What do you want to know?”

“Why,” Chihiro says at once. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There were a lot of reasons,” you say. “I think my main one was trying to protect you.”

“From him?”

“No,” you say. “From everybody else. I don’t know if you read any of the articles about the trial, but the way they talked about him — and about me — was awful. People treated me differently, and I was just his girlfriend. I didn’t want anybody to do anything to you because of who your father was.”

“I got in fights anyway. Because I didn’t have a dad.” Chihiro’s voice is dull. “Maybe if they’d known who he was it would have been different.”

“Maybe.” You take a sip of your own hot chocolate, even though it’s getting hard to swallow. “That was part of it. Part of it was that I didn’t want you to grow up with that hanging over your head. Knowing that your dad was on death row and not even being able to visit him.”

“You said he didn’t know about me. Was that a lie, too?”

“I tried to tell him,” you say. “I called, and wrote letters, and tried to visit — he never wanted to see me. And he never answered.”

Your voice wavers slightly. You don’t try to fight it. Fighting it makes it worse. “I wanted to. He wouldn’t let me.”

Chihiro looks disturbed. “So that picture —”

“That’s the last time I saw him,” you say, and Chihiro’s expression collapses. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry about that.” Chihiro lets go of her cup to wipe her eyes. “Why else didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was selfish,” you say. It hurts to admit it, to admit that what you swore you were doing for Chihiro’s own good was for you all along. But you have to be honest. You’ve lied to her, by omission or on purpose, enough for a lifetime. “I didn’t want to think about what happened. Any of it. And if you didn’t know — if nobody knew — then I wouldn’t have to talk about it ever again.”

Chihiro wipes her eyes a second time. You keep talking, your throat aching more in every word. “I didn’t wake up one morning and decide not to tell you about Tomura. It just happened —”

“And kept happening. For eighteen years.”

She’s not going to let you get away with anything. The fact that you know she shouldn’t doesn’t make it any less frustrating. “Yeah. Eighteen years. I did it because it would make things easier, for me. Because it wouldn’t hurt as much, for me. I was thinking a lot about me and I should have been thinking about you.”

Chihiro looks away. “Do you think he did it?”

“Chihiro —”

“He confessed,” Chihiro says. “He said he did it.”

Yeah, Tomura confessed. They interrogated him for twenty days straight before they got anything out of him, and when you came to visit him again before the trial, he looked like something had broken inside of him. He seemed out of it, too. He barely recognized you, barely knew you were there. You don’t know what they did to him in there, but you trust that confession even less than you trust the testimony his adoptive father gave. “He confessed,” Chihiro repeats, her voice rising. She fumbles her phone out of her pocket, unlocks it one-handed. “Do you think he did it?”

She’s looking something up. You remember all at once how Chihiro stumbled on him in the first place. “Did they execute him? Chihiro, tell me —”

“Do you think he did it?” she demands, and you shake your head. You were there at the trial. Every day. You never saw anything that made you believe he was guilty. Chihiro squeezes her eyes shut and holds out her phone towards you. “You were right.”

Some part of you registers what she just said, but it doesn’t stick. It bounces off the surface and vanishes, because Chihiro has a news site open, with a bright red BREAKING NEWS banner across the top. SHIGARAKI TOMURA EXONERATED AFTER NINETEEN YEARS ON DEATH ROW.

You spend one wild second panicking at the sight of an “ex” word in the same sentence as Tomura’s name and “death row”, but then you force yourself to go back. Exonerated. Not executed, exonerated. You lift the phone out of Chihiro’s hands and she lets you take it — with a caveat. “Read it out loud, okay? So I know we both saw the same thing.”

You start reading, your voice rattling. “In a time of rising crime, escalating drug trafficking, and a loss of trust in our institutions, the accused mass murderer Shigaraki Tomura became the avatar for Japan’s worst nightmares: A remorseless killer, hiding amongst the innocent, ready to strike at any time. Those who questioned the scant evidence the prosecutor provided were ridiculed. Those who believed that his confession to the murders of his parents, his grandparents, and his older sister was the product of coercion were reviled. Nineteen years later, they and the man they spoke up for have seen justice served.”

Your eyes are burning. You blink back tears and keep reading. “In a stunning but well-reasoned decision released on Monday afternoon, the Supreme Court reversed all seven murder convictions against Shigaraki Tomura in light of new evidence uncovered in the course of an entirely different investigation. Midoriya Izuku, a prosecutor turned human-rights advocate, became interested in Shigaraki’s case while working to restore another inmate’s right to visits from his adoptive father — fuck!”

Chihiro looks up. “Huh?”

“Sorry. It’s just — he called me,” you say. “Midoriya Izuku. He’s been calling. I didn’t know why.”

“It’s weird when you swear,” Chihiro notes. You mumble an apology. “Keep reading.”

“Upon reviewing the available evidence and pursuing new investigations, Midoriya made a motion for a retrial, which was granted by the Supreme Court and conducted under terms of absolute secrecy in order to avoid the media circus that ensued during Shigaraki’s original trial. The Court has agreed to release all documents related to Shigaraki’s case and is expected to do so within the next twenty-four hours. Some sources have indicated that a different suspect in the Shimura family’s murders has already been taken into custody, but no official confirmation has been received.”

Your hands are shaking now, so hard you almost drop Chihiro’s phone in your cup of hot chocolate. “Mom?” Chihiro says, and you look up, blinking hard. “Do you know who they arrested?”

Your first inclination is to ask why she thinks you of all people would know, but you clamp down on that. Even though the world’s just been yanked out from beneath your feet, your daughter is still the injured party. And when you think about it, you do have some idea of who it is. “His adoptive dad. He was the one who had custody of Tomura when the murders happened, and he was really excited to cooperate with the investigation.”

“Custody?” Chihiro repeats. “How old was he when he — when they died?”

“Fifteen,” you say. “If you’re older than fourteen when you commit a crime, they can try you as an adult.”

“You think his fake dad set him up,” Chihiro says. You nod. “Is there more to read?”

“A little bit.”

Chihiro scoots over on the couch, making a space, and you sit down next to her. She has to wake up her phone again for you to keep reading, and you get the jumpscare of SHIGARAKI TOMURA EX- a second time before scrolling down to where you left off. “Although a release date has not been announced publicly, it is the view of this magazine that Shigaraki should be released from prison as quickly as possible. He has paid a debt to society that was never owed in the first place. When Shigaraki Tomura is released from Fuchu Prison, he will walk out a free man. Society’s atonement for the crime it committed against him is only beginning.”

You glance at the byline out of habit. This article was written by Kizuki Chitose, and if you remember right, the last article she wrote about Tomura struck a pretty different note. She’d better start atoning right now. You’d be happy to help. Balling up every single scathing editorial and hit job she wrote and jamming them down her throat feels like it would be a good start.

“It’s real,” Chihiro says. You nod. “He’s getting out.”

You nod again. You’re with Kizuki on wanting Tomura to be released as quickly as possible. You’re just not sure what happens next.

Chihiro’s thinking along the same lines. “Mom, what are we going to do?”

“We’ll figure it out,” you promise her. She leans in against your side, and some horrible part of you exults. With the chaos that’s about to unfold, Chihiro can’t afford to hate you any longer — or if you stop thinking about it like an asshole, she doesn’t know what’s going to happen and you’re the person she turns to. It doesn’t matter that you don’t know any more than she does. You’re the adult, but something happened to you when you read that headline. Somehow it feels like no time has passed at all; like he was just torn away from you, like you’re a lonely, hopeless twenty-two-year-old with a baby on the way all over again.

But you aren’t. You made it this far. Your baby turned eighteen this year, and you managed to raise her close enough to right. “We’ll figure it out,” you promise her again. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

“Maybe you were right,” Chihiro mumbles. “It would have been harder if I knew all this time.”

You think so. It’s still not an excuse. You wrap your arm around your daughter’s shoulders and hug her closer, relieved beyond words when she doesn’t pull away. You’ll take care of her first — make sure she eats, make sure she gets some sleep, because you know from experience how much harder everything becomes without it. And after she’s fallen asleep, you’ll finally return Midoriya Izuku’s calls.

<- Chapter 1

[elliecore4eva]

The Weight of Words We Can't Take Back

pairing: asshole! ellie x Joel’s adoptive daughter!reader

Summary : You’re Joel’s adoptive daughter, living in Jackson, Ellie and you have been dating for 2 years and everything’s going well until it isn’t causing Ellie to snap and give you the silent treatment.

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Warnings: Angst, Mean Ellie and the silent treatment + fluff at end.

Very Mean! Ellie x Sunshine! Reader coded.

Requests open!

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The Tipsy Bison buzzed with its usual evening crowd when everything fell apart. You and Ellie had been together long enough - two years of shared breaths, stolen kisses, and promises whispered under starlit skies - that everyone in Jackson knew you as a unit. The sunny-natured girl who'd stolen Joel's heart and his brooding, fierce adopted daughter. A perfect balance, they said.

Until tonight.

It started with patrol routes, like many of your arguments did. But this was different. The mountain pass had claimed three lives last month - good people, experienced fighters. The kind of loss that left holes in Jackson's tight-knit community.

"I'm taking the mountain route tomorrow," Ellie announced over your shared plate of Seth's famous fries. Her tone was casual, but you knew that set of her jaw. "There's been infected activity reported, and I'm the best shot we've got."

Your heart dropped. "El, no. Maria specifically said that route's off-limits until the snow melts. Even Joel agreed—"

"Joel doesn't make my decisions," she cut in, that familiar defensive edge creeping into her voice. "And neither do you."

"This isn't about making decisions," you countered, trying to keep your voice level. The couple at the next table was already stealing glances. "It's about being smart. Being safe. What happened to Danny and the others—"

"Happened because they weren't prepared!" Her voice rose slightly. "I'm different. I'm immune, remember? If anything goes wrong—"

"Being immune doesn't make you bulletproof!" The words burst out louder than intended. A hush fell over the nearby tables. "What about last summer? When you came back half-dead because you thought you could handle that bloater alone?"

"That was different—"

"No, it wasn't! You spent three weeks in the infirmary. I had to watch while you—" Your voice cracked. "While you fought for your life because you're so damn determined to prove something!"

Ellie's eyes flashed. The whole bar had gone quiet now, watching the unfolding scene. "I don't need to prove anything. I need to do my job, which is protecting this place. Protecting you."

"And what about the people who love you? What about Joel? What about me?" You could feel tears threatening. "Do you have any idea what it does to us every time you throw yourself into danger?"

"Oh, that's rich," Ellie laughed, but it was a harsh sound. "Coming from Little Miss Sunshine herself. You think just because Joel took you in, because everyone loves your perfect, optimistic ass, you get to tell me how to survive? I was surviving long before you showed up with your fucking rainbows and happy endings!"

The silence in the bar was deafening. You saw Jesse start to rise from his seat at the bar, saw Dina's hand fly to her mouth. But Ellie wasn't done.

"You want to know something?" She stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. "Maybe I'm tired of pretending. Tired of playing house and family dinner and whatever the fuck this is. Maybe some of us don't get happy endings. Maybe some of us are just too fucked up, too broken to—"

"Ellie!" Joel's voice cut through the bar. He must have just walked in, but the look on his face said he'd heard enough.

But the damage was done. You stood slowly, your whole body shaking. The tears you'd been holding back spilled over, and for the first time since you'd known her, Ellie's face showed a flash of immediate regret.

"Y/N," she started, reaching for you, all the anger suddenly gone from her voice. "I didn't—"

"Fuck you, Ellie Williams," you whispered, the words foreign on your tongue. You never swore, never spoke with anything but kindness. But this - this was different. "Just... fuck you."

You ran. Past Joel's outstretched arm, past Dina's concerned face, past the whispers and stares. Out into the cold Jackson night, where the stars that usually held so much wonder now seemed to mock your tears.

That was the beginning of the silence.

[First Silent Treatment - Day One]

The morning after the fight, you woke up in your old room at Joel's. He hadn't said a word when you showed up crying, just opened his arms and held you like he did the day he found you - half-dead from infected, but still fighting. Still hoping.

You spotted Ellie at the stables during morning patrol assignments. Your heart did that familiar dance - leaping at the sight of her, then remembering why it shouldn't. She was gearing up, checking her bow with mechanical precision, when you approached.

"Ellie?" Your voice was soft, hopeful despite everything. You held out her favorite travel mug - black coffee, two sugars. A peace offering. "Can we talk about last night?"

She stiffened. You saw her fingers tighten on the bow, saw the muscle in her jaw jump. For a moment, something flickered in her eyes - pain, regret, longing. Then nothing.

She shouldered past you, the coffee untouched, leaving nothing but the ghost of her presence and the scent of pine needles that always clung to her clothes.

The mug slipped from your fingers, shattering on the stable floor. Jesse appeared from nowhere, already sweeping up the pieces.

"She didn't mean it," he said quietly, gathering ceramic shards. "Any of it. You should have seen her after you left. She punched a wall so hard she broke two fingers."

"Then why won't she talk to me?"

Jesse sighed, looking older than his years. "Because Ellie's got this way of punishing herself. And right now? She thinks hurting you is what she deserves."

[Second Silent Treatment - Day Two]

The greenhouse had always been your sanctuary. Today, the warmth felt stifling. You were replanting those strawberry seeds - the ones you'd been saving for the garden you and Ellie had planned behind your shared garage. Your shared everything, until now.

The door creaked. Your heart stopped.

Ellie stood there, looking lost in a way that made your chest ache. Dark circles under her eyes matched the bruises on her knuckles. She needed supplies - the greenhouse was the only source for certain medicinal herbs.

"The yarrow's fresh," you said, voice trembling slightly. "I... I remembered you were running low."

She moved like a ghost through the rows of plants, past the tomatoes you'd grown together, past the herbs she'd helped you name. When she reached the yarrow, her hand brushed yours. For a split second, electricity sparked between you.

"El," you breathed. "Please."

She yanked her hand back like she'd been burned. The door slammed behind her with such force that leaves trembled from nearby plants.

Dina found you crying among the strawberry sprouts.

"She's not sleeping," Dina said, sitting beside you. "Keeps walking past Joel’s house at night. I caught her standing there at 3 AM, just... staring at your window."

"I miss her," you whispered. "Even when she's right in front of me, I miss her."

[Third Silent Treatment - Day Three]

Family dinner at Joel's had been sacred for two years. Even during your worst fights, you'd both shown up, kept the peace for Joel's sake. But tonight, the empty chair beside you felt like an open wound.

Joel had made his famous venison stew - the one that always made Ellie smile, even on her darkest days. The bowl sat untouched before her empty seat.

The front door opened. Ellie stepped in, freezing when she saw you. Her hair was wet from patrol, her jacket dusted with snow. Something dark stained her sleeve - blood? Your heart lurched.

"You're hurt," you said, already standing.

She turned and fled, the door banging shut behind her.

"Goddammit," Joel muttered, throwing down his napkin. "Baby girl," he said to you, using the nickname that always made you feel safe. "Stay put. I'm gonna talk some sense into that stubborn—"

"No," you stopped him. "She's not ready."

He looked at you with sad eyes. "You're too good for this world, you know that?"

"That's what Ellie used to say."

[Fourth Silent Treatment - Day Four]

Movie night at the community center. Your heart was already in pieces, but seeing her walk in with Dina, deliberately avoiding your usual seats - it felt like those pieces were being ground to dust.

You'd found "Jurassic Park" - her favorite movie. Had planned to use it as a peace offering. Now you sat alone in the front row, the empty seat beside you a monument to everything falling apart.

Throughout the movie, you felt her eyes on you. Every laugh from the crowd made you think of her commentary during previous viewings. The way she'd squeeze your hand during tense scenes, even though she'd seen it a dozen times. How she'd whisper facts about dinosaurs in your ear, her breath warm against your skin.

Jesse found you in the projection room later, rewinding the film with shaking hands.

"This has to stop," he said, pulling you into a hug. "You're both drowning without each other."

"I don't know how to fix it," you sobbed into his shirt. "I don't know how to reach her when she won't even look at me."

"She looks at you all the time," he said softly. "You just can't see it because you're too busy looking at the ground. She watches you like she's dying of thirst and you're the last drop of water in the world."

[Fifth Silent Treatment - Day Five]

The final straw came when you took the mountain pass patrol - her route. The very thing that had started this whole mess. Maybe it was stupid, maybe it was reckless, but you needed to understand. Needed to know what drew her to these dangerous paths.

You didn't expect to find her there, perched on a ridge, watching your approach with wide eyes that quickly turned to fury.

"What the fuck?" She broke her silence at last, voice raw with disuse and emotion.

"What are you doing here?"

"The same thing you do," you answered steadily. "My job."

She moved toward you like an approaching storm. "You can't— This isn't—" She stopped, chest heaving. "You shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you."

Something broke in her expression. For a moment, you thought she might finally talk - really talk. Instead, she turned away, shoulders shaking.

"If you won't talk to me," you called after her, your voice carrying across the snow, "at least talk to Joel. We all miss you, El. Even if you don't miss us back."

You saw her pause, saw her hand come up to wipe roughly at her face. Then she was gone, leaving you alone with the wind and the weight of all the words you couldn't take back.

That night, after your confrontation on the mountain pass, the storm that had been threatening all week finally broke. You sat in your old room at Joel's, watching lightning illuminate the mountains where you'd seen Ellie hours before. The thunder reminded you of her - wild, unpredictable, earth-shattering.

A knock at your door. Joel.

"She's at the water tower," he said softly. "Been up there for hours in this rain."

"Let her freeze," you muttered, but your hands were already reaching for your coat.

"Before you go," Joel caught your arm, his eyes serious. "Found her in the garage earlier, starin' at that guitar you two fixed up together. She was cryin', baby girl. First time I've seen her."

Your heart clenched. "Dad—"

"Just listen. Remember when I found you? Half-dead in that old library, surrounded by infected but still readin' stories to those kids you'd protected?"

You nodded. It was the day that changed everything - the day you gained a father and, eventually, a love you never thought possible.

"Knew right then you were special. Same way I knew about Ellie. You two... you're like those strings on her guitar. Different notes, but they make something beautiful together. Even when one's out of tune."

The rain was freezing when you stepped outside, but you barely felt it. Your feet carried you to the water tower automatically - how many nights had you and Ellie spent up there, counting stars, sharing secrets, planning futures?

She was hunched at the edge, soaked to the bone, looking smaller than you'd ever seen her. Your approach wasn't quiet - it never was, she always teased you about that - but she didn't turn around.

"If you're here to yell at me," her voice was hoarse, "get in line. Pretty sure Joel, Jesse, and half of Jackson already have dibs."

"I didn't come to yell." You moved closer, careful, like approaching a wounded animal.

"I came because my stupid, stubborn girlfriend is sitting in a thunderstorm, probably catching pneumonia, and apparently being dramatic is contagious."

A sound escaped her - something between a laugh and a sob.

"You know what the worst part is?" She finally turned to look at you, her face streaked with rain and tears. "Every time I walked past you, every time I forced myself not to speak, not to reach for you... it felt like dying. Over and over again."

"Then why?" Your voice cracked. "Why put us both through this?"

"Because!" She stood suddenly, gesturing wildly. "Because I'm poison! Because everyone I love either dies or leaves or—" She choked on the words. "And then there's you. You with your sunshine smile and your stupid optimism and the way you make everyone fall in love with you just by existing. You're everything good in this fucking world, and I'm just... I'm just me."

"Just you?" You stepped closer, anger and love warring in your chest. "Just the girl who spent three weeks teaching the settlement kids how to read? Just the person who risks her life every day to keep everyone safe? Just the idiot who climbed through my window every night for a month because I had nightmares about the library?"

"That's different—"

"No, it's not! You want to know what I see when I look at you, Ellie Williams? I see the girl who hums while she cleans her guns. Who doodles dinosaurs in the margins of patrol reports. Who taught me to play guitar even though I'm terrible at it, and never once stopped smiling when I hit the wrong chord."

You were toe to toe now, both shaking from cold and emotion.

"I see the person who makes Joel laugh," you continued, poking her chest. "Who sneaks extra rations to Maria when she's working late. Who named every damn cat in Jackson and pretends not to care about them but always saves scraps from dinner."

"Stop—" she whispered, but you were on a roll.

"I see someone who survived hell and still manages to be gentle. Who acts tough but cries at sad movies. Who makes stupid puns just to see me smile. Who loves so fiercely it scares her."

"I see you, Ellie. All of you. The mean and the sweet and the broken and the healing. And I'm not going anywhere, so you can either keep pushing me away and make us both miserable, or you can kiss me in this stupid romantic rain and then come home before we both get sick."

For a moment, she just stared at you, water dripping from her eyelashes. Then her hands were in your hair, pulling you close with a desperation that took your breath away. The kiss tasted like rain and tears and coming home.

"I'm sorry," she breathed against your lips. "I'm so fucking sorry. For everything I said at the Bison, for pushing you away, for being such a—"

"Colossal idiot?"

"I was going to say ass, but yeah, that works too." She pressed her forehead to yours. "I love you. Even when I'm being impossible. Especially then, probably."

"Good," you murmured. "Because I love you too. Even when you're giving me the silent treatment and making our whole family stress-eat Seth's cooking."

A genuine laugh bubbled out of her. "Joel stress-baked three pies yesterday. Three."

"I know. Dina and Jesse ate most of them while planning ways to lock us in a room together until we worked things out."

"Guess we saved them the trouble." She pulled back slightly, her eyes serious. "I can't promise I won't get scared again. Or that I won't try to push you away when things get hard. But I can promise to try. To talk instead of run. To remember that you choose me, every day, even when I don't understand why."

"That's all I need." You brushed wet hair from her face. "That, and maybe a hot shower before we both turn into ice sculptures."

Later, wrapped in warm blankets in your shared apartment, Ellie traced the constellations of freckles on your shoulder - a habit you'd missed desperately these past five days.

"Hey," she said softly. "Remember what you said last month? About wanting to plant a garden?"

"The one with the strawberries? Yeah."

"I, uh, may have started it. During the... you know. When I couldn't talk to you. Figured if I couldn't say the words, I could at least grow something beautiful. Like you."

Your heart swelled. "Is that what you were doing in the greenhouse?"

"Among other things." She reached under the bed and pulled out a journal - one of her many. "I wrote to you. Every time I couldn't speak. Every time I saw you cry and hated myself for causing it. Want to read them?"

You took the journal with trembling hands.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," she smiled - that rare, soft smile reserved just for you. "After all, you're the only one who gets to see all of me, remember? The mean and the sweet and everything in between."

Outside, the storm had passed. Through the window, stars began to peek through clearing clouds - the same stars you'd spent countless nights naming together. And as you curled into Ellie's side, her heartbeat steady against your ear, you knew that some loves were worth the storm.

Even if they came with a side of dramatic water tower confessions and stress-baked pies.

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🍓🥧❤️‍����🗼

READ PART TWO HERE!

[pluralthey]

what steps do you go through to draw in your current style? do you have any pointers about it? its absolutely one of my favorites

i'm not sure if i think of my process in steps. in my head, i'm just straightforwardly drawing the shapes the characters are made of at angles that look right and building on that... luckily, i stream when i draw every day, so i have a ton of videos of myself drawing. example:

i haven't bothered to upload a lot of the modern streams to youtube because my video editor can't handle editing 4-8 hour files even if i'm speeding them up and technically making them shorter because of the way video editors interact with files, and the freeware i use isn't able to make proxy files. the act of downloading and editing and combing through all the footage is a ton of time and memory space and it's just not what people are usually looking for from me, so it's not where i wanna put my time.

but that's neither here nor there. what i mean to say is these vods are really long. so you don't want to rawdog those. but you can just download a video speed controller extension to your browser and it's extremely easy to cruise through the backlog of vods at ~15x speed.

i've gone ahead and highlighted some of the recent videos to separate the chaff from the wheat. i tend to take long breaks to eat or walk my dog so there are big periods of Nothing Happening. i'll try to skim some more and do the same. unfortunately, i don't have any good videos of me coloring, since twitch deletes vods after like a month, and i've just been focusing on sketching.

but yeah, in general, it really depends on how good i'm feeling on a given day -- sometimes i will sketch multiple times for just one panel and sometimes i won't sketch at all. i use paint tool sai 2 and a pixel brush usually 2 pixels wide with no pen pressure. for comics, i have 1 layer for the panel borders, 1 layer for the sketch, 1 layer for the lines, 1 layer for the colors, 1 layer for the text, and 1 layer speech bubbles. sometimes there are special effects that overlap borders and need their own special layers. when i start sketching a new panel, i will usually put it on its own new layer, and sometimes for multiple characters i will put them on another new layer at a different opacity. this is mostly to move them around without constant cleanup. once i've gotten a sketch pretty finished, i merge all of the layers into the sketch layer. the line layer is usually just the sketch layer cleaned up and paint bucket tooled black. but basically, the vast majority of my time working on art is spent trying to fix small things like tangents, fitting speech bubbles into panels, thinking about how to lay out a page, checking continuity interaction with other pages, that kind of stuff. the complex technical parts of the process are to save time on those in ways i can without compromising quality. the other portion of working on the art is like "step 1: draw head circle (or jessie head diamond). step 2: draw the rest of the owl." i don't know if this was helpful at all y_y if you want more pointers i might be able to offer clarity on more specific questions!

[rinniereads123]

One-Shots

SOME OF THESE STORIES ARE MATURE! READ THE WARNINGS AND TAGS BEFORE YOU READ!

Last updated 01/06/2025

★ - personal favorites | masterlist | other recs

scary? my god, you're divine - @sinner-as-saint

Your marriage to Bucky Barnes was crucial in stopping the rivalry that had been getting rather violent recently between the two families. You agreed to it. But there was one little problem. Although people knew of Bucky as being a ruthless, fiercely loyal, and feared hitman, no one had ever seen his face. In the rare occasions when he’d been seen out during assignments, it was rumoured that he always wore some sort of mask which covered most of his face. So you ended up marrying a man, and had no idea what he looked like. But surely that wouldn’t be an issue. It’s not like his one touch would get you addicted. Who cared what he looked like? It’s not like you could grow to love someone like him anyway… right?

yours to hurt, yours to love - @purple-babygirl

They had a deal. She would surrender her control; he would take it. Love had no place in such a relationship, did it?

Come Find Me - @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

You get left behind on a mission, and Bucky goes to save you.

★blurred lines - @ellemj

When choosing a female agent to send back in time to gain young Sergeant Barnes's trust, everyone's in agreement that it should be Sharon. Until Bucky, the man that you barely get along with, speaks up and lets everyone know that it could only be you.

Shared desires - @veltana

You and Bucky decide to explore something new with Steve.

The Push and the Pull - @delaber

There’s nothing Bucky wants more than to be with you - and for that reason alone, he has to break both your hearts.

Little Bookworm - @heytheredelulu

Your boyfriend can’t think of anything more adorable than watching you read. One night while you’re in the shower he picks up the book you left on the nightstand: “Haunting Adeline by H.D. Carlton” and thumbs through it, very quickly realizing just what kind of books his sweet little bookworm is really into.

Anywhere Away With You - @thevillainswhore

Old ghosts from your past threaten to disturb the peace you’ve made with your new life. Will temptation steer you away?

★The Ties That Bind Us - @thevillainswhore

Even though Bucky is your ex-husband, you still have to see him often because of your shared son. But the heated tension, the spark that is still very much alive after your divorce, finally reaches its peak when you come home from your date.

Warrior/Worrier - @delaber

After a mission gone awry, Bucky finds himself on your doorstep in the middle of the night.

Pink in the Night - @d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n

Some interesting rumours have been circling around about Bucky. Little do you know, it's kinda your fault.

Love Hurts - @urdepressedslut

You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

in losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time) - @mellowsaturns

When the Avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of Hydra was destroyed. One unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but Bucky knows it. He could recognize those eyes anywhere.

I Hate You - @ellemj

After ending up on SHIELD's radar, you're moved into the tower against your will. Of course, you can't stand the one man that you have the most in common with.

One More Night - @marvelouslizzie

You and Bucky Barnes are fuck buddies for a while. The problem is you have feelings for him but you don't think he reciprocates and it just makes it impossible to continue your relationship. Little did you know how much he wants you and how hard he's trying to keep it casual.

The Things We Carry With Us - @pellucid-constellations

You were injured on a mission and didn’t tell anyone, leaving your already rocky relationship with Bucky crumbling. Was it really hate he harbored for you, or was it something else? 

Control - @bucky-bucket-barnes

John Walker makes the dire mistake of messing with Bucky’s girl. This misstep causes a major fight to break out between the two, ending in nothing but blood and rage.

I Can Save You This Time - @pellucid-constellations

It’s the 4th of July and you’ve never been more sick. Turns out you aren’t the only one in the compound that stayed home from the celebration.

Shaken Up - @jamesbuchananxsteviegrant

Steve and Bucky find their girl passed out.

Under Pressure - @banditthewriter

Y/N hides a nasty injury from the team until they know everybody is safe, and then they collapse. Bucky worries about Y/N.

Injuries - @flowinglocksofbuck

you get injured on a mission and Bucky freaks out

Wicked - @str-spangled-banner

You were injured during a mission two weeks ago and put to much pressure on your healing wounds, doing more damage than you thought possible. Bucky fears he will lose you.

Necessary Evil - @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Y/N gets seriously injured and Bucky takes care of her.

fingers fantasy fulfilled - @purple-babygirl

If Bucky's doll wanted his metal fingers then that was exactly what she was going to get.

Lavender - @wkemeup

Not every nightmare is the same and Bucky doesn’t always wake up as the man you know. 

Give Me A Sign - @lostgirlmuseum

Bucky asks the universe for a reason to live. The universe delivers you.

Fulfilled Fantasy - @sergeantbarnessdoll

Y/N admits to Bucky that she wants to have a threesome so he has Natasha help fulfill her fantasy.

Hottest Night of Your Life - @bossbtch1

Bucky and Steve joined you for a night out at the club, but things took a dark turn when a stranger spiked your drink. Bucky and Steve were more than willing to "take care" of you.

Sharing is Caring - @sad-not-glad

Soft Dom! Steve x Sub! Bucky x Dom! reader

My Queen - @adrinktostopyourthirst

The post-battle energy rush needs a release. Suddenly, there's a willing soldier at your disposal.

all the apple cider and no more haunted houses - @witchywithwhiskey

you and bucky barnes have a love-hate relationship—you love him and you believe he hates you—but when your friends insist on going to the scariest haunted house attraction in the area, the experience ends up forcing your real feelings for each other out into light

my everything - @mrsbarnesblog

The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before.

you were mine just yesterday - @notafunkiller

It's been a while since your break up with Bucky happened, but you're still not over him. You try to move on, go out, and have fun with your friend, Steve, but you end up in the same bar you two went to often. It also just happens that Bucky is there too, with Natasha by his side. It doesn't take long for you two to end up getting into old habits.

[thegoldencontracts]

Hi

What do you think about Self aware!Housewardens and what are your Headcanons for them HSBSJJAJAJAHA idk I've been into ddlc recently.

FELLOW DDLC + TWST FAN SPOTTED I MUST RAMBLE

I'm going to make more specific fics with this later because who doesn't like self-aware AUs? Probably someone but that someone is not me

Ignorance is Bliss

The housewardens of Night Raven College come to a crippling realization about the truth of their world. They all handle it in different ways.

Riddle, who knows he's in a game, that everyone here is fake. What did he learn all these rules for? What was the point of his suffering? He's just a character to be watched by others for amusement's sake. Was the Queen of Hearts a mere character too? Did any of this have meaning? But then he sees you. You're real, and he's enraptured. What are the rules of your world, the real world where life isn't some story to be played? Though Riddle can't help but envy you, he really does wish to get to know you better.

Leona is hit by the revelation after his overblot. Everything he's gone through was all a part of some game. Just a way to keep players entertained. You're real. You'll never have to deal with the crippling realization that everything you say's a part of some script, that whole life's a game you'll never be able to leave. More than anything, Leona hates the fact that he knows your kindness towards him is all fake, but he still can't help but be captivated.

Azul is envious, just like Leona. He's gone through all of this just for entertainment? His overblot, his family, his world- none of it was real? And you're there, watching his suffering like it's some game for you to play, because that's really all it is. A game. He's a character in a game. But, seeing how real you are, even if your words are conveyed through the black sprite of a self-insert protagonist, how genuine your kindness is - it draws him in. He's meant to be a cold, rational individual, but perhaps he can be a bit softer with you. You won't mock him. You won't leave. And besides, if this really is some odd game, can't Azul get more of your gems with gap Moe?

Kalim is rather accepting of his circumstances. Sure, he's heartbroken to see the truth - that his whole life's a part of some gacha game meant to make some massive corporation called Disney more money, but can he really do anything about it? Besides, Kalim has always been someone who believes in making the best of the terrible hand he's been dealt. He's stayed kind in the face on constant poisoning attempts, and he's kept his heart in a world where there was no one he could trust. And in his attempts to make the best of his situation, he can't help but get closer to you. After all, you're a real person, and you don't gain anything from turning on him. You appreciate his kindness, and even if there's a fourth-wall separating the two of you, Kalim's grateful.

Vil is shaken by the revelation. This is all a game? You're just here to be entertained? But in spite of how worldview-shattering the realization that he's just a game character meant to Garner profit is, he can't help but he oddly comforted. Nothing's wrong with him. Neige 's performance was supposed to be worse than his, and the ordeal at VDC was just as unfair as he thought. Though Vil isn't exactly fine and dandy, he's not quite broken either. And, in the actual fanbase of this game he's in, people like him better than Neige? And you're one of those people? If it turns out you write fanfic or draw fanart of him, he'll be very appreciative.

Idia's shocked. His brother's death, his overblot, all the overblots, they were setups for him to be a character in some non-otome gacha game? It's weird. Idia's all too used to not being in control of his life, though. He just tries to cope in any way he can. He's definitely going to try and learn about his fandom, what type of ships and fanfic and fanart and the like are made about him. He's one of the most likely to try and ask you about the fandom. If you make fancontent for him, he's going to be especially interested. Be warned, though, he will nitpick your characterization of him so hard. At least your stats are better now, I guess?

Malleus is already an isolated individual, and now you're telling him what little connection to others he has is fake? In all honesty, he's definitely the most attached to you out of all the dorm heads. You're the only real friend he'll ever be able to have. The only real friend any of them will ever be able to have. He does find comfort in his massive fanbase, though. You're telling him all these people care for him, and because of the difference in the way time passes in game vs in reality, they won't die in a matter of what feels like seconds for him? As shaken as he is by everything, it really is a comfort.

[mini-golden]

I've been mulling over the Labyrinth arc specifically the questers decision to allow Boris to come, with it being brought up again with Felix trying to adopt Boris. Little disclaimer I have not reread the Labyrinth arc so I will probably miss out on a couple details here.

A question that I really been trying to wrack my brain around is "what could they have done for Boris". I remember when the labyrinth arc was happening I was so mad at the questers for the way that they were treating Boris. Especially as a teenager myself (14-15 at the time so literally the same age as Boris). But now that I think about it I really do want to know what the questers could have done because I feel like no matter that choice Boris would have gone anyway.

At this point Boris had recently run away when he was told that he could not be apart of saving his brother, right. So he has already demonstrated that he can and will put himself and others in danger to be with Bendy. I know some people said that he should have stayed back with the circus crew and I believe the circus crew would have definitely tried their best but ultimately we have to remember that he's a street kid, he knows how to get around adults, I don't think that they could have truly stopped him from going if he wanted to. Again he has already demonstrated that he will pick bendy over everyone else no matter how close you are to him. To Boris it's truly always been him and Bendy against the world, he's already burnt bridges with the relationships he built up. He now has a rocky relationship with the adult figures that he trusted, he thinks they should despise him.

Now I want to make clear that I am absolutely not excusing the clear adultification that a lot of the characters do to Boris specifically in this arc. It still really pisses me off, he is an emotional 14 year old boy of course he did the terrible things that he did, his frontal lobe isn't developed he can't think his actions through as well as the adults around him can. Specifically looking at you Michael Bradley I know your traumatised but wtf that is a child. Kinda excluding Cuphead though, he was a real one with how he acted with this.

Coming back to Felix here. I think Felix should have really honed in on the decision that they made by bringing Boris along. Felix should have sat Boris down and really had a talk to him with how dangerous it was going to be. Obviously we know that the questers did not expect how truly dangerous it would be but Felix has already done extremely dangerous stuff before so I think he definitely could have better prepared Boris for what they were going into. With what I mentioned in the paragraph above though I think I can really see why Felix made the decision he did. He already told Boris no and it ended with him being severely hurt emotionally and being cursed physically. And we can see in Felix' POV how deeply that scared Felix. Although I really do wish that he sat Boris down and truly told him how he felt about Boris running away and how he only wants to protect Boris. Really try to make him see how much he cares for him and try and build up that trust again.

Honestly so much of this stuff that happens really they could have been resolved if these idiots would just talk to each other, the miscommunication in this series istg :').

Ultimately I don't think that there was a "right" or "correct" choice that would have ended in Boris being safe from the record. There were definitely things that characters could have handled a lot better but truly none of them could have been prepared for how messed up the Labyrinth really turned out to be. Also could the questers have even gotten the record without Boris? I feel like Boris was needed for the record I truly don't know how they would have gotten the record otherwise with how hard it was for Boris to get it.

I really wish I wrote down my opinions and feelings at the time to how I feel about the arc now that I'm an adult, because of how close in age to Boris I was so I could truly relate to some of the feelings he was feeling with the adults around them. And now as an adult I can see more why the adults around him made the decisions they made.

[bluejay757]

Lets talk about Simon and Betty

spoilers for episode 8

So a lot of people are throwing around some strong accusations about their relationship, some I can see where they're coming from, and a lot are really reaching.

As for the ones that I think are reaching, a lot of people are saying that Simon and Betty were a professor/student dynamic, except they weren't. Simon wasn't teaching a class he was a guest lecturer, and Betty, having read his work was interested. She was excited to meet him because she liked his research. Simon was constantly mocked in his field, if you actually read the newspaper clippings from "I remember you" you'll see that even after he found the enchiridion, he was made fun of. People were literally laughing at him and throwing things at him while he was giving his lecture. Betty likely was mocked too, it makes sense she was so excited to meet him, because this was her chance to meet one of the few people that actually shared her interest. She did not yet have a crush on him at that point in time.

I think after she got to know Simon on a personal level her fascination of him changed, as she no longer viewed him as a "celebrity" (I use that term loosely for a lack of a better word, I can't imagine his books sold that many copies, what with him being a laughing stock and him being genuinely surprised that Betty had read his work), but rather a colleague and equal. She even said that after their trip together she had grown to admire him as a person, so it's not like she had any kind of feelings for him prior to that. Now that's not to say her feelings towards him were completely normal, but there definitely wasn't a power imbalance between them.

A lot of people are saying Simon was selfish for making her stay behind, but he didn't make her. She chose to stay behind. She could have still gone on that trip, and continued to write to him and talk to him on the phone, but she chose to stay with him and go on different adventures. You're forgetting that Simon and Betty went on expeditions together all the time, it's not like she gave up her career for him, that would be a whole different story, but she made the decision to continue working in her field alongside him.

Also Simon couldn't have gone on that trip if he did want to because he wasn't offered to go, who ever it was that gave Betty that opportunity, wasn't anticipating on her bringing a friend, he also didn't have anything with him but like his wallet and keys you can't seriously expect him to go to another country with no luggage, no plane ticket, no money, no nothing. A whole part of Fionna's character arc is realizing that life's not a fairy tale, she was expecting something out of a romance novel and got a story straight from reality. Realistically the two options were for Betty to stay or to leave Simon. And I don't think her giving up her trip to Australia was a sacrifice, because there were other trips and opportunities after that, she traded that one trip for an entire lifetime of them, (or at least it would have been if war didn't break out)

And if you're gonna call Betty impulsive, call her impulsive because she went on a trip around the world with a man she had never met, not because she walked through a creek barefoot lmfao.

I'm not saying that Simon and Betty were perfect but there are other reasons to criticize them.

As for the actual problems with there relationship, none of them are their fault. Betty going literally crazy trying to bring Simon back was because of Magic Man and Patience fucking with her brain, a human being cannot handle the amount of magic she was given and it drove her to insanity. And Simon now, with risking everything to bring her back, she's literally fused with a chaos god and is going to live for eternity in that state, did you ever think maybe he wants to get her out of that for her sake? That maybe he wants closure and to say goodbye? Since he never got that chance. No it's not healthy for Simon to drive himself as far as he did to bring her back, but Jesus fucking Christ can you blame him for not wanting his fiance to suffer for literal eternity? They don't need to break up, they need therapy. I don't think their relationship pre-mushroom war was unhealthy, and I don't think it ever would have been unhealthy without Betty becoming Magic Betty.

Their relationship flaws are more so their own individual flaws that have bled into their relationship as opposed to ones caused by the relationship itself, that's an important distinction you have to see.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Boyfriend!Hobie Brown Heacanons - Hobie Brown x GN!reader

I am not normal about Hobie Brown and I don't plan on stopping

Before we begin!! I feel like Hobie would be really slow and hesitant on letting his partner know he's Spider-man (considering he wasn't willing to tell Miles).

So I imagine he'd try to juggle it with the band and all the political action he does. He just wants to keep you safe, but when it comes up he usually brushes off why he up and disappears sometimes. But if directly confronted, he's not gonna lie cause he feels like that's shitty. If asked why he's gone, he'd come out and say it, but try to soften the blow best he can.

(With that out of my system)

Okay first things first Hobie is the most SUPPORTIVE bf ever

No matter what he's always in your corner

Hobie believes in his partner a lot, and that means he'll always back you - even if he's the only person to have your back

And he knows you can handle your own, but if anyone has anything to say about it they can deal with him

(RIP to anyone who tries to talk down to you or insult you cause he finna roast they asses no filter)

He's an incredibly good listener. Like crazy good

Hobie's able to bring up things you don't even remember telling him, things said in passing that yoy may not think is important, but he still picks up on

Which is why he's really good to vent to. He may not have a lot of words of comfort, but is has a shoulder to cry on, and if you're angry, he's always there to validate that. Plus no matter what you're going through, he'll always encourage you to get through it, and keep your head up

Hobies also a low-key romantic (in his own way).

If you think Pavi is a great boyfriend then wait to you get with Hobie

If you're like most people, Hobie is most likely taller than you.

He's a lot touchier than you'd think, in his own way. Leaning on you, hanging off of you, arm over your shoulder, or crossing his legs over yours.

Hobie is a man of much slang and many nicknames (and part of the reason people playfully call Pav 'Big Steppa')

He'd call you nicknames more than your actual name - 'love',' 'darling', 'bird' the like, along with some few custom ones

Most of his date ideas involve breaking the law in some way and bashing the occassional facist together

Hobie is actually incredibly smart, both street wise and science wise, so I imagine he's pretty well read. I could see him really enjoying the some anarchist literature with his partner, and then discussing it with them

Protests are his favorite kind of date, followed by concerts, and picnics in abandoned buildings

(or, after he meets Miles, going out to graffiti)

he lets you wear his vest and even helps you make your own

He may not be as verbally affectionate or into PDA as Pavi is, but he still makes it clear that he trusts you and cares about what you have to say

He may not say 'I love you' in front of people, but he'll pull you onto his lap, or ask if you're okay, and give you slang-covered compliments all the time

Being Spider-man is actually a lot more stressful than Hobie lets on

And like most Spider-men, he looks to his other half as support, emotionally

being an international rockstar and anti-facist icon comes with big images, but when he and his partner are alone, he feels a lot more relaxed and a lot less pressured.

Hobie's been Spider-man for 3 years, meanwhile Pavi and Gwen are both in their first months of joining the spider-society. Because of that, he kinda feels responsible for them

He's been putting up with the Spider-Society's shit for years (hence why Miguel is so done with him)

There's definitely times he's come home to his dimension cursing and fuming

Any type of injustice or power inbalance really pisses him off, and sometimes if its really bad he can't stop thinking about it

Especially growing up in a totalitarian universe

He leans on his partner to remind him that there are still good people out there fighting for what's right

Hobie has already gone through most of his canon events, and he carries that with him, though he won't say it

From his reaction in atsv, he doesn't talk about it a lot, and tries is best to brush it off but sometimes, it just can't be ignored

his partner would probably be the only person he brings it up to and it just makes him more pissed with the spider-society

When he's relaxed though Hobie may be more quiet in private, strumming his guitar as his listens to you, or kicking back while the two of you shoot the shit

Pavi's energy hypes him up a lot though, so you two hit up Mumbattan a lot

Or he loves bringing his partner to band practice and mic checks. And he always calls them out in the crowd if he's on the mic

Last sweet stuff okay

If he's gone he'll give his partner one of his bracelets. He'll just be like 'oi, hold this.' then leave chill as hell

Gwen, Pavi, and Miles are all really supportive of you two, even if they have a thousand questions in the beginning (all of which he dodges or plays off)

He's not one to get jealous at all. But he will join a conversation and casually mention the rockstar-model thing. Just to assert dominance. A subtle flex

He keeps asking you to give him a stick & poke somewhere because he thinks it's a cute idea

He likes doing that thing where he sits behind you while he teaches you guitar

He loves having you sleep over, and you can crash in his dimension any time

Especially after he meets Gwen. His fave thing to do is to just play while he listens to the two of you talk for hours

Hobie is a really heavy sleeper but somehow gets up exactly when he needs to be or right before shit starts going down - otherwise he sleeps till 1pm everyday

If theres anything Hobie is, its loyal and supportive, and he wants nothing more than for you to be safe, and free, and happy

(even if most of his advice is throwing a brick at someone)

He is always pushing you to do better, to speak up for yourself or trust yourself because he knows how much you're capable of

And finally he knows your favorite song by heart to the point that if hes zoning out or missing you, he'll strum it on the guitar without even realizing

(okay bye lemme know what you thought thanks for reading loves also I am not okay i am obsessed with him )