#honestly i feel like everyone will hate me for this

[luveline]

Omg can we plsss get a Steve summer blurb like I’d be happy with anything I love your Steve sm and he is just sweet golden summer boy

Steve digs his nose against Robins freckled cheekbone and says something you can’t hear. Must’ve been something kind. She goes soft even as she pushes him away from her, citing a need for her personal bubble, Steven.

He loves Robin half to death and she spends most of their time together making fun of him —it’s why you want him, you can be the most embarrassing version of yourself and Steve won’t flinch.

He’s like it with everyone. Dustin has a mustard stain in the corner of his mouth and hair greasy from sweating in the sun and Steve just wipes at him with a groan. Eddie breaks another glass on account of his bad arm and Steve tells him they were shitty anyways. You lay down beside the pool, unmoving, useless company and treasured anyhow, constantly checked on. He’s making his way to you now with Robin’s towel around his shoulders, water from the swimming pool glistening on his tanned neck.

“Baby,” he greets. 

“Hey, killer.” 

He clambers down on your towel, knees bruised from a fierce game of chicken where Eddie insisted he could be the one on the bottom and then promptly fell forwards, dunking the both of them and almost killing Lucas and Max in the process. 

The sounds of the kids arguing floats on the breeze. The sun winds down slowly, gives everything at the pool and clementine glow like watered down paint, but nobody mentions going home. Robin coughs around a cigarette and Eddie offers to roll her her first ever doobie, but she kindly declines. “I’ve been high before,” she says. “It was fun, but I hated throwing up. Steve didn’t even hold my hair back.” 

“Fucking Steve.” 

“Fucking Steve,” you murmur through a smile. He leans down to kiss you, his hair dripping on your chest as he hovers. 

“What’s the matter with you? You’re like a statue today. Not talking, not swimming. You need something to eat or what?” he asks. 

“Need you to take off my bikini bottoms for fucking Steve,” you say calmly. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he laughs, tipping away from you. He hangs his head and his neck beckons, long and pleasing, pleading for a kiss. 

You take a pull of your strawberry and apple juice, sitting up properly, ducking your head. You watch as his neck turns splotchy with blush. Mean, you spread your hand across his stomach. 

“Want to cool off with me in the pool?” you ask. 

Steve gets in with a splash, holds his hand out as you slide in like he’s worried you’ll take a tumble. The water is lukewarm, not immediately cooling until Steve holds your face and dips your head back, and the water feels cold in your hair. 

“That better?” he asks. 

You squint in the sunshine. He’s pretty with a sunshine halo. “We’re cooling you off, not me. I was fine.” 

“I was fine, ‘til you came onto me like an animal.” 

“An animal?” you ask. 

He grins at you. “Am I in trouble?” 

You close your eyes. Steve pinches your nose gently, predicting your dunk under the water before you’ve submerged yourself. For a couple of seconds you stay there, holding your breath, Steve’s hand keeping you from sinking to the bottom where it’s spread against the small of your back.

He lifts you up and kisses you suddenly. You give into him for as long as you can, three or four seconds of breathlessness, pushing him away to gasp against his chin.

“Owed you that one. Robin’s had more kisses today than you,” he says.

“I’ve had more sloppy ones.” 

“That’s what you think.” 

You giggle listlessly —he’s pulling you in, pressing his wet tummy to yours, your chest to his chest but your head held apart. It’s too hot to be close out of the water. This is a good happy-medium. “My smart boy,” you tease lightly, “the pool day has really lifted moral.” 

“Just wanted to see you in your keds.” 

“My swimsuit, you mean.”

“Nah, I like the tennis shoes.” He wipes water from your cheek unthinkingly. It’s honestly hotter than the kiss. 

You use the water to bouy yourself up, wrapping your arms around his neck in a passionate embrace that’s one part dramatics and two parts real. He laughs out loud, bending under your weight as you brush back his hair with your nose to kiss the sweet almond shape of his eye. 

Eddie wolf whistles from the sun loungers. Mike cries indecency. Steve falls back into the water to escape them, taking you with him, tiny bubbles flying in a rush from between your chests. 

[dollyswishingwell]

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Jealous boy

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ fluff, petty men, slightly yandere, they’re jealous and also disgusted ahaha.

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ The galas are always in your honour. it’s just not fun for the boys to watch people’s sad attempts of hitting on his wife

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The gala is shimmering. Crystal chandeliers drip like icicles, the air is thick with perfumes you don’t recognize and people you don’t care to know. But you’re not just attending, you’re the event. Every eye catches on the delicate glint of your jewels, the soft sway of your gown, the effortless grace in the way you curl your fingers around your champagne glass. And beside you, in his perfectly disheveled way, stands Rafayel.

He’s in a white silk shirt with three buttons undone, scandalously so, and loosely tailored black pants that somehow look regal in the careless way they fall around his hips. One hand casually holds a fluted glass, the other remains around your waist like it’s grown there. Possessive. Restless. Lazy in posture, but coiled beneath the surface.

People try to make conversation. Most don’t make it past you’re even more stunning in person. But the moment someone dares lean a little too close, laughing a little too long at a joke that wasn’t funny, Rafayel’s whole demeanor shifts.

He lets out a small, audible sigh. “Mm. Can you not?” he says, not even bothering to fake politeness. The person stutters, confused.

“I mean, really,” he adds, gesturing vaguely with his glass. “Whatever this is—” he waves a hand between the guest and you, “—it’s dead. Ashes. Rotting. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

You feel the pressure of his fingers tighten at your waist. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind everyone that you’re his.

“I know she’s pretty,” Rafayel hums, eyes half-lidded as he lowers his voice to whisper against your ear, “but they’re not supposed to look at you like that, cutie. They don’t get to want what they can’t even understand.”

When another guest attempts to praise your beauty, earnestly, nervously, Rafayel doesn’t even blink. “She knows,” he says flatly, expression dull with boredom. “She hears it from me every morning when she wakes up tangled in my sheets and kisses. So unless you’re offering something useful…” he lets the sentence trail, eyeing them with thinly veiled disgust, “…walk away. Before I decide I don’t like your face anymore.”

Later, when you’re alone on the balcony, the night cool against your skin, he nestles close behind you, arms winding around your waist, lips brushing along your shoulder.

“You looked perfect tonight,” he murmurs, voice languid and low. “But I hated sharing you.” A pause, then a pout against your skin. “Next time… can we just stay home? I’ll put glitter on your lashes and cook lobster and we’ll dance in the living room. No one staring. No one breathing your air.”

And when you laugh, because only he would think glitter and lobster are a romantic evening, he smiles against your neck. “You’re the one that themed the exhibition gala after me. You should blame yourself, Raffy.”

“Maybe but can we admit I’m much better company than anyone in there.”

And honestly? He’s right.

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

The gala is a grand affair, silver, sterile elegance dressed up with crystal centerpieces and champagne towers. The elite of Linkon City’s medical world fill the ballroom like cold stars, orbiting around a single spotlight: Zayne. Or rather, the medical breakthrough bearing your name.

The newly-documented cardiac technique, The Everly Procedure, is the subject of tonight’s acclaim. A complex maneuver with a high success rate. Revolutionary. Elegant. And named after you, his wife. The press loves the romance of it, the dedication in the name. What they don’t know is that the real reason he did it wasn’t for the spotlight, or even the award, but because you were the reason he ever picked up a scalpel in the first place.

Zayne stands beside you, towering and sharp in a tailored charcoal three-piece suit, his coat brushing behind him like a shadow. His silver-framed glasses catch the chandelier light as he surveys the room, jaw set in that calm, unreadable expression. To most, he looks untouchable. Reserved. Stoic.

To you, he’s just slightly irritated.

He doesn’t need to say it. You feel it in the way his gloved hand rests at the small of your back, too light to be obvious, too firm to be mistaken. The quiet message is clear: Stay close.

The compliments come anyway.

“Dr. Zayne, your wife is… stunning tonight.”

“How did a man like you manage that?”

“You’re not hiding her from the rest of us, are you?”

You feel Zayne’s fingers twitch slightly against your back.

“I named a surgical technique after her,” he says flatly, hazel green eyes glancing at the guest like he’s diagnosing a malignant tumor. “You think I’m letting her go home with someone who can’t even hold a scalpel properly?”

It’s not exactly rude, but it lands like a knife. The laughter that follows is nervous, but no one lingers too long.

Another young doctor, a bit too bold, a bit too charming, leans in toward you, attempting some half-baked line about being your “next appointment.”

Zayne exhales through his nose and shifts his glasses up the bridge. “Flirting with a surgeon’s wife at his own gala,” he says, voice dry. “A bold strategy. I’d recommend a cardiology consult while you still have a heartbeat.”

Later, as you’re tucked into his side near the veranda, Zayne lets his expression soften just enough for you to catch it. His eyes sweep your profile, your gown, your hair, the soft glow on your skin under the moonlight.

“You really are the reason they’re all here,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

You smirk. “Because of the heart surgery or because I look good in this color?”

His gaze drops to your mouth, his gloved thumb brushing a nonexistent smudge off your chin.

“Both. But mostly the second one.”

You laugh, and he allows himself the smallest smile before leaning down, lips brushing just behind your ear.

“I don’t like being stared at,” he says quietly, “but when it’s you they’re looking at… I find it worse.”

Then, after a pause, drier: “I should’ve made it a private gala. Just me, you, and a dinner tray at home.”

And honestly, after tonight? That sounds perfect.

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

The DSHA gala is an expensive affair, sleek, futuristic, and humming with subtle tension under layers of shimmering formality. The air is laced with expensive perfumes and barely-sheathed ambition, as the highest-ranked hunters gather beneath the vaulted starlight dome.

But none of them glow like you.

You’re Xavier’s wife, and everyone knows it. Dressed in radiant silks, eyes lined with shimmer, you’re more than just beautiful, you’re ethereal. The kind of untouchable that makes people stare too long, even when they know better.

And beside you, quiet and unreadable as always, stands Xavier. In his white high-collared uniform, he’s a phantom in gold and black, ornate gloves resting at his sides, expression neutral, boots silent against the floor. Despite the honors being handed out tonight, he’s not here for the recognition. He’s here for you. You, who made him wear a tie. You, who brushed snow from his shoulder and told him he looked “too pretty to pretend you’re scary.” You, who keep him grounded in a world that never made sense to him.

He stands a step behind you at first, silent, comfortable in the shadow you cast, but the moment someone steps too close, lingers too long, offers you a drink with a wink or a compliment dipped in charm?

His eyes open just slightly wider.

“…She doesn’t drink,” he murmurs without inflection, intercepting the glass and handing it to a passing server without looking.

The hunter offering it falters. “Oh—my mistake. You must be her bodyguard?”

Xavier blinks. Slowly. “Husband,” he corrects, voice soft, tone dry. “And now you’re annoying.”

It’s not threatening. It’s just true.

Another dares to flirt. A higher-ranked officer you vaguely remember from a mission debriefing. He compliments your dress. Your voice. The way you walked in.

And Xavier, standing silently beside you, simply tilts his head and asks flatly:

“Are you always like this when you’re about to die?”

The man laughs, nervously, not sure if it’s a joke. It isn’t.

You feel Xavier’s gloved hand slip into yours then, firm and grounding. The calm doesn’t leave his face, but the possessiveness radiates from him now, still waters with a trench underneath.

When he finally guides you away from the crowd and into the cool night air of the upper observatory deck, the stars reflected in his pale hair, he speaks softly beside your ear.

“You were the most dangerous thing in that room,” he says with no hint of teasing.

You smirk. “Dangerous?”

“Mm. Everyone wanted you,” he hums, leaning close, his breath brushing your temple. “But they don’t understand how quickly I would end them if they touched you.”

You laugh, fingers tightening in his. He doesn’t smile, but his eyes flicker down to your lips.

“I don’t know how to be jealous,” he says plainly. “But I can be… efficient.”

Then, quietly, almost like a confession:

“I fell asleep during the ceremony. But I was awake for all the parts where you smiled.”

And truly, in a room full of stars, you only ever needed one.

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

The ballroom is decadent. Crimson lighting ripples across onyx marble floors, chandeliers shaped like bleeding roses hang from above, and soft orchestral music swells beneath the hum of high-level deals and calculated flattery.

It’s your birthday.

Correction, Sylus’ celebration of your birthday. Which is to say: excessive, curated, and crawling with powerful people who all claim to be here for the toast, but are really just here to catch a glimpse of the woman who keeps Sylus of the Red Brooch entertained enough to host something this public.

You, in the center of it all, draped in silk the color of crushed rubies and wearing the rare brooch he gave you, the exact match to the one he wears. You’re the queen of the evening, the centerpiece in a den of wolves. And Sylus watches from beside his throne-like seat, arm slung lazily across the back of yours, his red eyes glinting with amusement and something far more dangerous.

Someone dares approach with a drink and a compliment.

Sylus doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Just tilts his head slightly.

“Ah. You’ve come bearing gifts,” he says, voice smooth as wine, dry as poison. “How thoughtful. Next time, bring a brain cell instead. She already has a drink.”

The man blinks. Tries to smile. Tries to say something about how stunning you look, how lucky Sylus must be.

Sylus cuts him off with a soft chuckle.

“Lucky?” he echoes, lips quirking into a mocking smirk. “You must be new here.”

Another bold guest steps up, praising your intellect this time. Tries to be clever. Flirts without shame.

Sylus finally stands. Not fast. Not dramatic. Just slow enough to make the atmosphere freeze. He looks down at the guest like they’re a speck on glass he hasn’t decided whether to wipe away or burn through.

“She’s brilliant,” he agrees. “Which is exactly why she has no interest in men who mistake their salary for substance.”

Then, turning slightly toward you with mock-curious eyes:

“Darling, do I need to have them removed, or will you let me ruin their career instead? I’m feeling generous tonight.”

When you laugh, it’s with indulgence, and his expression softens just for you, like you’re the only one who isn’t boring.

He keeps you close for the rest of the night, thumb slowly stroking over your knuckles, leaning down to murmur into your ear in between toasts and business talk.

“You’re the only reason half these people showed up. Not the wine. Not the money. Not me.”

He kisses the side of your head like it’s a warning to the room. “I should’ve locked you upstairs with the gifts instead. Let them guess what you were wearing. Or not wearing.”

By the end of the night, you’re pulled into his lap as the crowd thins and the music fades. He doesn’t care who’s still around. His voice is low now, soft, but never sweet.

“You looked divine tonight. They all noticed. They all wanted. And that was the point.”

His red eyes glint as his fingers toy with the brooch at your chest.

“Let them see. Let them crave. Let them imagine. Because that’s all they’ll ever get.”

And with one final kiss to your pulse point, he adds, drier than ever:

“Now smile, my love. You’re the reason they’re still pretending to be important.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

It’s the kind of gala where officials wear stars on their chests and power in their footsteps, where the air is sterile, formal, and glittering with silent rivalry. Every member of the Farspace Fleet who matters is here, gathered beneath the chrome arches of Skyhaven’s Grand Hall. The floating chandeliers flicker with luminescent fuel lines, purple and gold banners ripple against the gravity stasis fields, and hovering platforms showcase Fleet tech breakthroughs mid-air.

But nobody is looking at the prototypes.

They’re looking at you.

Colonel Caleb’s wife. His “pipsqueak.”

You don’t belong here by rank or file, no badge, no insignia, no weapon. But you’re dressed in a pale, flowing gown with Fleet-accented trim, and your beauty turns heads sharper than any starfighter. People know who you are, even if they pretend they don’t. You’re his. And that makes you dangerous.

Caleb is beside you in full uniform, black coat, aiguillettes, boots gleaming, gloves fitted so tightly they crease as he tightens his jaw. His peaked cap sits just low enough to cast a shadow over his sharp violet eyes, but not low enough to hide the way they narrow every single time someone approaches you.

You’re smiling politely at some admirals and officials, but Caleb’s hand hasn’t left your lower back all evening. It’s a quiet claim, possessive without words. And when one senior officer dares say, “Colonel, you certainly brought the most stunning tactical advantage to this room,” and dares to wink at you?

Caleb doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t smile. Just speaks, low and calm:

“Say something like that again and I’ll break your jaw so you can drink your meals through a tube.”

The man laughs like it’s a joke. It’s not.

Caleb turns to you then, brushing your hair behind your ear as he adds with a fond murmur,

“People like him think you’re something nice to look at. They don’t realize you’re the reason I’m willing to destroy everything they built.”

Another guest tries to flirt a little softer, comparing your eyes to nebulae, making small talk about your dress. You giggle, more amused than flattered.

Caleb doesn’t giggle.

Instead, his gloved hand gently tilts your chin toward him as he asks, far too innocently:

“Do you like how he talks to you?”

You blink. “He was just being polite—“

His thumb presses softly against your lip. “I’m not asking what he meant. I’m asking what you want me to do about it.”

You laugh it off, telling him to behave. He doesn’t. Not really.

Later, while standing with you at the center of the observation deck, Caleb watches the stars beyond the transparent dome while speaking low beside your ear.

“You could wear a sack and I’d still have to deal with people staring at you.”

He exhales slowly. “Sometimes I think I should’ve locked you in the Skyhaven penthouse and let them guess what you look like.”

You glance up at him, smirking. “Jealous, Caleb?”

His eyes flash violet in the dim light. “Jealous? I took you. They’re lucky I even let them breathe in your presence.”

Then, softer, hand brushing your cheek:

“They don’t get it. You’re not just beautiful. You’re mine. My home. My peace. My one soft thing in this whole brutal world.”

A pause.

“Let them look. I’ll kill the first one who touches.”

And just like that, the crowd could fall away, and you’d still only feel him, his hand on your waist, his breath in your ear, and the unshakable, dangerous truth behind every word he murmurs:

You may be the center of the room tonight, but you’ve always been the center of his universe.

[mircoplastics]

My personal TKATB headcannons

(These are just some of my opinions that ponder at the back of my mind. Take these with a grain of salt)

Crowe

After the scene where Crowe and the m/c stargaze, I feel that Crowe is definitely into astronomy. I wonder if his major is possibly astronomy.

I also think that Crowe might be a yandere. I saw this theory on a tik tok comment section, and it honestly makes sense. Crowe might be the type of yandere to act completely normal and charming, yet behind the facade, he hides his true intentions. And the fact that he met the m/c by helping them when they were getting bullied kinda makes me wonder.

I also think that Crowe and Geo relationship goes deeper than a friendship. I am not completely sure about this, but it is implied that Geo and Crowe come from "rich" families. Thus, I think that Crowe and Geo being friends from a university that is for the "poor" is interesting. Not only that, but hyugo as well. I believe that Crowe, Geo, as well as hyugo are entangled in something deeper.

Geo and Hyugo

From the very beginning, it seems as if Geo hates the m/c. Especially when m/c turns down Crowe's offer to eat lunch with Crowe a and the gang. I don't think it's because of jealousy of a romantic attraction. Moreover, I believe it's because Geo knows the m/c, without them knowing whom Geo is. In that same scene, the m/c states how Geo glared at them. And wasn't until Crowe called his attention that Geo finally let her be. Maybe Geo knows about m/c situation about her family's farm and debt. I am not sure about this theory, but it puzzles me.

I JUST WANT HYUGO TO BE A DAMN LOVE INTREREST.

When that m/c first meets Hyugo at the rooftop, he literally tells the m/c NOT TO CRY. OR WHEN YOU CHOOSE TO WALK HOME WITH HIM!?!?! AND HE TELLS YOU TO BE CAREFUL?

Overall I think hyugo can have boyfriend potential.

Sol

I saw a while ago that TKATB is a horror/thriller VN. Honestly, I am just the more intrigued. I know that when you try and type your name at the beginning with Sol's last name, he tells you to remember. So maybe, depending on your choices, you either end up with Sol oblivious to this true self or you find his true self and try and escape him only for him to kill Crowe and everyone around you.

Extra

Also what is m/c situation? I am so confused. Like he family when into debt and the Mr. Z guy is giving supporting her throughout university? Or like is there something I am missing?

I haven't played the game myself, but I have seen multiple gameplay and read multiple theories. I don't claim any of these my own ideas, just a collage of multiple ideas and my won as well.

[millilps]

SAY IT LOUDER

i stopped shaving years ago after trying that for a few years in middle school. no one ever said anything about shaving, it was simply something everyone expected from me. but for me it was sensory hell, skin hurting, stupid tiny cuts on the back of my legs that hurt more than papercuts. i hated it.

then i stopped. i was uncomfortable at first, i thought that everyone would judge me and say mean things... no one did except my parents. and they still do. every now and then, now that it's getting warmer, they'll suggest i wear long pants when we go out. i simply say no. the other day i looked mom straight in the eyes and said "it's pointless for you to keep telling me that my options are either long pants or shaving. i won't do either, and the more you say it the more i won't" and honestly setting boundaries about my own body (and most importantly gender expression as i'm non-binary) felt so good although i do still feel judged by my parents' eyes - reason why i try to show off my legs as much as possible. annoyed? good. but you know what? i'm happy. two days ago i went to a pride parade and i heard a person near me say "it's so nice to see girls comfortable in having and showing their leg hair!" and not a girl but it felt INCREDIBLE!! yes!! women have hair!!! and if you think they shouldn't then ASK YOURSELF WHY THIS STANDARD EVEN FUCKING STARTED

i have so many stories about shamelessly having leg hair. one day i was out and waiting for a friend, and there was a kid. the kid asked her mom "is that a boy or a girl?" and, on one side, i'm sad i didn't have the time to answer "guess", but on the other side i'm incredibly happy that the mom said a girl because that means that kid will grow up knowing that everyone has leg hair and she shouldn't be ashamed of it or have to conform to a standard imposed by pure bullshit (one of my parents' argument is always "but it's dirty and you look like you don't take care of yourself" reason why i unironically started washing my leg hair with shampoo and honestly i can't recommend this enough. seriously it always makes my hair feel softer and like... it's not going anywhere. so i will take care of it.)

it makes me sad the way cis women are so terrified of and disgusted by their own body hair. and i'm not talking "i have to shave for sensory reasons" i mean i keep seeing videos of women using hair identifier spray on their faces and hands so they can shave the tiniest barely-there bits of peach fuzz that came free with their bodies. hair that serves a purpose and that purpose is cleanliness and protection. i mean when i was in elementary school girls who had barely hit puberty were talking about shaving their arms. i mean full-grown adult women who will have a breakdown if they see two days of stubble on their legs/crotch/ jaw/pits because god forbid you don't look like a perfect plastic barbie doll. god forbid your body that keeps you alive comes with hair that may not be soft and glossy and photogenic. some women are so afraid of having any hair apart from their head and eyebrows that they've uno reversed themselves into six different kinds of gender dysphoria that they can't recognize as such because they're convinced that this unnatural state of highly-groomed capital-informed beauty is how women have always been. you're so scared of looking "gross" or "ugly" or "mannish" that you can't even look at your body in the mirror and recognize what it is. sister you are an ape. why are you so determined to deny your nature.

[deezee112]

The ending 6 : Even Lions Weep

Masterlist | Ending 5 | Ending 7

Yandere!Platonic!Leona Kingscholar x GN!kid!Reader

A/N : Honestly, I just ran off to play games for a while been too lazy to work on my novel lately. Everyone needs a break sometimes Right?

Warning : Emotional Neglect , Manipulation , Violence , Injury , Death , Guilt , Child Endangerment , Blood , Mentions of Medical Trauma

Tags :

@sherryclover @creativecupcake @hsjdhehsjssj @neufora

If you want me to tag you please tell me.

English is not my first language.

" My name is Leona. "

Leona was…complicated.

He didn’t fuss over rules. He didn’t mind if your room was a mess. He didn’t care if you hated your homework or forgot your chores. He just…let you be. He treated you like an equal, not a kid. At first, that felt like freedom. You felt like you could breathe around him.

He’d let you sleep in on weekends.

He never scolded you for forgetting things.

He always found ways to cheer you up without saying much by tossing you snacks from the kitchen, or draping a blanket over your shoulders when he thought you weren’t looking.

You started to like having him around.

You even started talking more. Opening up. It was slow, but natural. He didn’t push you.

And sometimes, damn it...he just loves to lie right on top of you. There was even that one time you passed out because he’s so damn heavy. he was snoring on your back like you were a body pillow.

“ Hey get off! ” you wheezed, squirming under the weight of someone twice your size.

“ …Huh? Just push me, runt. ” he muttered, voice muffled into your shoulder. “ I’m tired. ”

You did push him. And he rolled. Onto your ribs. With a loud crunch.

You remember the sound before the pain. Then everything blurred.

Next thing you knew, you were in a hospital bed, blinking up at the ceiling with bandages around your chest. You’d broken two ribs. Leona was standing off to the side with his arms crossed, looking more annoyed than guilty.

Your parents were there. And oh boy, were they livid!

" Leona, what the hell were you thinking?! "

“ She’s eight, not a mattress! ”

" I told you not to sleep in her room— "

“ Tch. I didn’t mean to! She’s the one who didn’t move. ”

You stared at him from the hospital bed like he’d grown a second tail. He blamed you?

Your parents glared at him. “ Apologize. ”

" ...Tch. Fine. "

He stepped up to your bed, gaze low, scratching his head with a sigh.

“ ...Sorry or whatever. ” he said, like it was a punishment.

You blinked at him. He scowled.

And that was the start of everything.

He wasn’t like the others.

Leona didn’t coddle you. He didn’t fuss over your grades. He didn’t care if you forgot your lunch or if your socks didn’t match. He called you “ brat. ” “ pipsqueak. ” “ ankle-biter. ” and occasionally “ y/n. ” when he wasn’t feeling too lazy.

He acted like you were annoying. But he never left.

He was the kind of older presence that hovered not exactly nurturing, but always there. In the background. Watching. Quietly.

You learned quickly that he hated noise, rules, and being told what to do.

He would sleep anywhere: your couch, your floor, your lap. Once, he fell asleep mid-argument with your teacher at a parent-teacher meeting and started snoring through the scolding.

Sometimes, he’d fall asleep right on you again.

You’d scream, “ Leona! I can’t breathe! ”

He’d grumble, “ Then stop being a pillow. ”

( That’s how you ended up back in the hospital with a bruised rib the second time. )

But underneath that lazy, sarcastic surface…there was something else.

Leona was possessive in quiet ways.

He didn’t like it when you played with other people too long. He didn’t like it when someone else praised you. He’d stare, ears twitching, and say nothing but when you got home, he’d find some small reason to blame you for something.

" Why didn’t you come home earlier? You’re a kid. You don’t know what kind of creeps are out there? "

" You always forget your umbrella. Do you want to catch a cold or are you just stupid? "

" You didn’t say thank you. Even a brat should have basic manners. ”

But you had said thank you.

You always did your best.

And yet…he always found something wrong. So, you did what felt natural: you apologized.

Every time.

Even when it wasn’t your fault.

Even when he ignored you for hours.

Even when his tail swished in anger and his claws tapped the floor.

Even when you were scared.

Especially then.

Because you knew something deep down Leona wasn’t like other adults. He wasn’t stable.

And he wasn’t always safe.

You were sixteen when it happened.

You were having a good day. You’d finally won first place in art class. You rushed home, clutching your award, cheeks red with pride.

You opened the door and found him pacing.

That was never good.

" ...Where were you? "

You blinked. " At school. I told you I had club today. "

" You didn’t answer your phone. "

" It was on silent— "

" I called you five times. "

The heat in his voice made you freeze. You held up your hands.

" I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to— "

“ Why are you always like this? ” His claws clicked. “ You make me look like the bad guy every time. ”

“ What? I wasn’t— ”

“ You disappear. You lie. You play with people who don’t deserve you. You think I don’t see it? ”

He was rambling. Furious. Pacing. Mumbling. His ears were twitching violently now, and his claws had fully extended.

You backed up.

" Leona. Calm down— "

" No. You need to listen for once. "

“ I am listening—! ”

“ Then STOP TALKING! ”

And then it happened.

You don’t even know if he meant it.

You don’t think he knew either.

It was too fast.

The sound of tearing fabric.

Then pain.

Hot, sharp pain.

His claws had slashed across your stomach and chest deep, unforgiving, like a lion swiping prey. You stumbled back, crashing into the wall, your hand instantly soaked in red.

“ …Ah. ”

Your breath caught.

“ …Oh. ” you whispered, knees buckling.

“ y/n— ” Leona’s eyes widened.

“ I’m…sorry.. ” you said softly.

And then you collapsed.

The room went silent. Too silent.

Leona didn’t move.

Not for a long time.

He stared at your body like it wasn’t real. Like you were going to stand up and say it was a prank. Like you were going to call him stupid again and tell him to order takeout because you didn’t feel like cooking.

But you didn’t move.

You didn’t breathe.

You didn’t speak.

And when he stepped closer and saw your eyes still open, still shining with tears.

Still apologizing.

He fell to his knees.

“ …I didn’t mean to. ”

His voice cracked.

“ …I didn’t mean to— ”

He reached out and pulled you into his arms.

Blood soaked into his clothes.

“ I told you not to scare me like that…I told you I get angry. Why didn’t you listen? Why didn’t you stop me? ”

His voice broke.

You didn’t answer.

And maybe that was the first time he realized you never would again.

[chaifootsteps]

What honestly pissed me off about Ghostfuckers the most was the show dropping that Blitzo and Millie are "best friends" and expecting everyone to just accept it like it was obvious. There was ZERO indication that they were platonic best friends. Blitzo had very little in the way of meaningful interaction with Millie prior to that episode. The little we did know about their dynamic was that he sexually stalks her and that he had made the threat of r*ping her to her own husband.

I really hate Blitzo. The show's attempts to make me feel bad for him have all failed spectacularly. Still better than that fuckass owl though.

That was definitely one of the ugliest, most awful things he's done for no reason and it will never, ever be acknowledged. Why focus on Blitz threatening to rape his employees when they can talk about the really heinous things he's done, like hurting a sad rich man's feelings?

[universalzones]

"I barely know myself anymore, so how do you expect me to tell anyone else who I am. Face it Lanolin, my situation is too fucked right now and it ain't going to change with some random ass blogger talking about it. Don't try saying I'm be pessimistic, I'm just being real." Surge knew the cards were stacked against her right now, and it was strong and tall fucking stack that was for sure.

"Though you know what? I don't give a fuck what G.U.N has planned or what people think of me. If I gotta be the bad guy in the eyes of everyone to stop worse shit from happening then I say bring it on. I'll break them before they break me." The tenrec would do what needed to be done, even if there were those that didn't agree. If it comes down to making a ton of problems for G.U.N then she'll do it.

"Jeez, kinda intense, don't you think?" The canine asked, though had been writing all that down as even he can admit it takes guts to say something like that and stand by it. "Well, what about you Lanolin? Did you want to give a statement about all this? Your word carries more weight than you think."

===========================================================

"...Can't you just make it easier to distrust and hate you for five minutes?" Kitsunami knew it was more the programming making him feel this way rather than the few valid instance's that made him be cautious around Sonic. Starline programmed his brain to be logically yet didn't account for when logic goes against his programming. By all accounts the fennec should be willing to work with the hedgehog, and even trust him a decent amount. He was just stuck in the position of the two programs conflicting each other.

Kitsunami is then seen thinking deeply. "You want to start really earning my trust then you'll answer this question honestly. Surge, did she get her memories back? From before Starline? She was... off when she went over her plan. More level headed, though kept having conflict with herself. She kept dancing around the issue. Told me she over used a new ability she's been working on and it was making it hard to think."

===========================================================

"That would be wise. Me and Jewel dealing with G.U.N while Miles and Belle leave to avoid being held up. However I am still worried about that attacker. If it was G.U.N who had Amy attacked then who knows if they have more agents ready to strike. Perhaps I should request Odessa to shift from helping keep G.U.N soldiers from overstepping to helping Miles escort Belle away from here." Blaze might be over paranoid right now, though better to be safe then sorry.

"Hey, I'm not as powerless as I was before." Belle would walk over to Belle-Bot, hitting a button under it's neck before it opened up which allowed her to step inside. It then closed as she took full control. "Truth is, I designed this should I even end up in a dangerous situation with Metal Sonic again. Not to mention if G.U.N tries claiming I can't leave I can claim it's a part of me. I doubt they'd be willing to try and rip me out. Not that it would be easy."

Lanolins eyes turned to one side as Surge spoke and she could hear that malice in her voice. She'd already consigned herself to what ever fate that lay ahead. But nobody knew the real surge, nobody knew the story of the girl who lost her life to a madman. People only knew her as the destroyer who wrecked the city, who fought sonic and lost. Some saw her on that track and got to see the real Surge under all that anger and bark. Lanolin believed under all of that was a good person clawing there way out of the hell they were forced into. She just wanted Surge to have her say in all of this... what ever small say it might be.

" It's true... many see you for the monster that tore through the city, or the enemy that tried to kill Sonic. Or the failure who couldn't do the deed... "

She said in a soft somber tone

" But nobody knows you... not really. Nobody knows the real story... the truth behind thunder in the sky. I've known you a short time ... and i barely know you... "

She motioned to the civilian with her hand and gazed into Surges eyes less like the soldier and more like a friend. Someone trying to beat past all that rage and help her... maybe it was the first time Lanolin dropped the tough girl act and was just that scared sheep who crawled into restoration that day.

" This is your chance Surge... To tell the world who you are... where you came from... to be remembered ... and not have your story tainted by GUN or anyone else... to tell the world... Who you REALLY are... people are starting to wonder about that. The mysterious green rider... she who fought off the phantom rider... they cheered for you despite EVERYTHING... but they don't know you... "

" This might be your last chance to tell them... so how do you want them to remember you? as the Villain ... or the Hero... he's your chance to convey that... what ever message you might have for the world... he'll be your voice...i dunno i guess... i guess i just feel like you deserve that..."

===============================================

Sonic rubbed the back of his neck as Kit was pretty adamant he would run beside him. Well he supposed if he was able to keep pace with Surge it would be fine right? He nodded his head and turned to make his way across the busted up city and toward the little town that Surge marked for him. He wasn't sure why that little podunk town exactly but he wasn't gonna argue he had made a promise and he'd keep it.

Yet Kit's words made him turn his head as he slowed down just enough so they were side by side. His eyes glancing over at Kit before facing forward. He still blamed himself for not checking that hole, maybe things would have been different if he had.

" That's fine... Trust is earned after all and i let you down. Worse i tried to hide it from you when i found out she was alive... you got every right to be angry with me... maybe in time you'll forgive me... maybe not... but i can still hope that things change for the better...."

================================================

Miles crossed his arms looking very lost in thought, as Blaze gave her stance on the situation. He didn't disagree either, recreating Starlines project wasn't simple. Especially since he had the original notes and they were locked up in his max security vault hidden away in a secret location. No one was getting in there without a small army and that implied they ever knew where to find it.

Still, if they had Surge? It was possible they could figure out all the parts and put it all back together again. It worried him and it was etched on his face how worried he was. Ever since Phantom War he'd been trying to devise ways to counter every possible bad scenario...

He wasn't sure he had an answer to an army of Surges...

" all we can do now is wait... and see what GUNs next move is... we also can't ignore Eggman... he's been to quiet lately to... its gonna be hard to watch GUN and him at the same time... guess we have our work cut out for us..."

" Heh yea... guess Belle's right... we are better looking into this when we are more secure. Speaking of i'll see if i can arrange for Belle bot to be moved to my lab's server room until we can save the data properly and move it back onto Restoration servers. It'll be more secure there then here anyway... "

" Well... at least we have a plan...I guess that leaves miss Blaze and i to handle this goon from GUN and his paper work. Ah Bureaucracy! at least i feel somewhat well equipped to deal with that! they should be arriving anytime--- Guess we should prepare for that. Why don't you and Miss Belle get Belle Bot ready for transfer while we handle the paperwork! "

[kiyomitakada]

Matsuda and Sachiko? 🏳️‍🌈

oooooh funfunfun!

matsuda: definitely a cis guy. and uh. uhh. okay i know he has bisexual aura but i honestly think he also has a massive preference for guys. Hear Me Out. every time he expresses attraction to a woman it’s through the lens of light?? like?? his flirtation with sayu is immediately followed up by calling soichiro and sachiko mom and dad (i usually interpret his attraction to sayu as genuine but like. completely physical). he sees light leave with misa for a date and says “i want to go on a date too… a blonde beauty would be nice.” he sees light with kiyomi and not only keeps telling ide to shut up so he can enjoy the romantic atmosphere but also says “if it was me it’d probably be half date but i’m sure for light it’s all investigation.” when kiyomi sends light the “i want to see you” message matsuda’s reaction is “ooh, ‘i want to see you’… i’m so jealous…” while sweatdropping. and of course my personal crowning moment of What The Hell Matsuda:

L: so you’ve developed feelings for [misa]…? light: …. …yeah, maybe i just hadn’t noticed until now… matsuda (jumping with joy): misa-misa will jump with joy to hear that! congratulations, light! light: congratulations…?

like oh my god he congratulates light for developing societally appropriate feelings oh my godddddddd. without that i can see everything else as your typical “man attracted to women who kind of sees all women as romantic/sexual targets and that’s why he focuses more on the guy getting the girls rather than the girls themselves” misogynistic bullshit but with it?? yeah that is a man who does not experience heterosexual attraction to any frequent extent and idolizes people who do. along with the misogynistic bullshit that’s still a factor. Anyway. i don’t think he’s getting over light ever if i’m to be honest

in conclusion. squints. cis bisexual man? homoromantic? bidemiromantic (same flavor as light where this means he is effectively only romantically attracted to men because of the misogyny)? i don’t knowwww i’m going to change my mind immediately i can feel it

sachiko: god i hate to say this but. i think she’s cishet. narratively. because she’s misa’s foil in that she is actually a successful housewife deeply in love with her husband who is often absent but loves her back, and they are both left behind at the end, everyone they love ash in their fingers. sachiko is who misa aspires to be. and sachiko dislikes misa because in-universe she thinks misa is the reason light was away for half a year and thematically misa Does Not Fit into the yagami family. she just doesn’t, and she hates it, and she will never mold herself into the perfect oyomesan she so desperately wants to want to be. if you have comphet lesbian misa amane you have heterosexual sachiko yagami it’s deeply unfortunate but it’s true

that said i will absolutely abandon this argument with glee if anyone wants to write sachiko yuri.

[sugoi-and-spice]

Chapter Thirty-Four - The Deep End

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad’s boss’s son. He was the creep that stole girls’ underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it’s not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn’t sleep with him, right? …right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slow Burn, Racism, Suicidal Ideation, Psychiatric Wards, Forcible Sedation, Depiction of a Suicide Attempt

A/N: As always, this chapter got out way later than I hoped it would, but it is out! Also, thank you to everyone that's been sending in all these lovely messages and HC's - I'm slowly working my way through them so thank you for your patience!

Like my work? Please consider commissioning me or contributing to my Ko-Fi!

Read Full Chapter on AO3

[excerpt]

The water was absolutely freezing.

Not surprising, considering that it was just the beginning of January. If he had to guess, he’d probably clock the temperature of the water he’d dropped head first into at a high of 45 degrees fahrenheit. But honestly, it wasn’t the cold that was currently shocking his whole system.

“...Because I love you.”

As those words echoed over and over again in his head, the shock and the cold stabbing through his muscles started to fade away.

He’d never felt warmer.

“I love you.”

They were three words he’d never thought he’d hear from her, least of all now . And as cheesy as it was to say, if he were to die right at this moment, he’d die with a crooked, but genuine smile on his face.

Of course, if the sudden tightness in his throat and chest was anything to go off of, that moment might be coming sooner than he’d prefer.

He started to kick his feet under him, the unpracticed motion feeling even more unnatural to him due to his sneakers. Would it be more detrimental to take the time to reach down and pull them off, or to just kick harder and potentially burn all of his energy before even getting close to the surface? He didn’t know how long things like that took. This was only his second time in a body of water after all.

Before he could make a decision, a splash from above whipped him down further into the water. And for a brief moment as the foam of the splash swarmed his vision, he wondered if he should actually be worried about drowning. Had more of that shitty guard rail fallen down after him?

But then the bubbles and the froth started to clear, and he could see the details of what was clearly swimming towards him.

A knightess in shining school uniform.

She streamlined down towards him, dolphin kick hurried, but not sloppied by urgency — she had nothing if not perfect form and poise even in a time of crisis. She only unlocked her hands over her head when she got to him, grabbing him by the front of his sweatshirt and pulling him hard into her own body. It knocked the last of his breath out of him, rendering him useless to help kick as she brought them both the surprisingly long swim up to the surface. 

As soon as they broke, he was coughing up water and gasping for desperate, burning breaths.

“Tomura, holy crap, are you okay?!”

“I-I’m fine,” he wheezed between coughs, “Just give me a second—” 

“Yeah, yeah here, just hold onto me!” she scrambled, jerking his arm to go over her shoulder in a way that actually made it a bit tougher for him to get his bearings.

“No I don’t need to—damn it I’m fine!” he barked, “I know how to swim!”

She halted her fussing immediately. 

After a few moments he managed to take back control of his breath. It was harder than he expected thanks to the frigid temperature of the water squeezing his chest, and the fact that he still had to tread water, an ability he was so inexperienced with he found himself needing to flap at the water in double time.

But eventually he managed to swallow down enough complete breaths to ease the burning in his chest and the throbbing in his head. Enough to finally think clearly. He turned to her to say—

—something. He lost the thought as soon as he saw her staring at him with something akin to awe. It confused him for a moment, what could possibly be going on right now that would yield that kind of look from her? But then he realized what exactly he’d just said. And a strange, dawning feeling fell over them both.

I know how to swim.

It’s not like either of them didn’t know. Of course they remembered that day at the waterpark. It had been a turning point in their relationship. The turning point in fact. It always lived in the back of their minds. But there was something about him vocalizing what had transpired between them that day, how she was the one that taught him how to swim… It brought a smile to her face, and a stunning realization to his own.

That’s right. He did know how to swim. He had that tool to survive now.

Because of her.

“Yeah…” she smiled softly, “Yeah, of course you do.”

“ARE YOU GUYS OKAY?!”

They both looked up to Iguchi shouting down at them frantically. He stood  at the gap in the rail, the shoes and jacket she’d thrown at him before diving in held haphazardly in his arms.

“Yeah, we’re good!” she called back.

“Okay— just get to the bank and stay there! I’ll be right down!” 

He booked it across the bridge and out of sight before either of them had the chance to respond.

She laughed, probably a little more amused by Iguchi’s grandmotherly worry then she should’ve been given the very real possibility of hypothermia they were facing.

She looked back at Shigaraki, loosening her grip on his clothes but not letting go completely.

“You good to swim to shore? There’s a bit of a current.”

He avoided her gaze, unable to meet the eyes that stared at him with so much understanding. So much… everything . 

“Yeah… Should be fine.”

Continued on AO3

[gwenniesqueals]

Currently Watching 10-06-2025

I know it looks like a lot, but honestly its less than last weeks since a few shows finished.

Boys in Love: I wish I had a teacher like Mr. Tan when growing up. He see's Shane's differences and helps him see that they aren't bad things. Not only that but the previous episode where he and Nut are talking about how more open and accepting society is as a whole. I was expecting this show to be a cute little hs boy love thing and the messages its actually sending is what I would have wanted to hear back then.

Break Up Service: What even was that whole episode?

Ex-Morning: The way I would have broken down and actually caught a charge if I was Phi by now, its insane.

Eye Contact: Lots of things going on here, can't wait to watch them sneak into each other's spaces.

Oh My Ghost Clients: Still loving this show, really didn't think I would.

Good Boy: The extreme bi-sexual panic persists. I broke DOWN at the one part with the friend (trying to not give spoilers) Like why did we have to break Bo Gum. He's good at crying but it hurts to keep seeing.

Happiness: Alright, I picked it back up. I haven't dropped it again yet, but it is so hard for me to not compare it to the Kdrama.

My Sweetheart Jom: I need this to be a little faster. Also seeing Saint in both this and Happiness is throwing me off.

Knock out: I'm only halfway through this latest episode, don't hate me for it, I just have not been in the mood for it and trust me I do regret it.

I Love A Lot of You: I might drop this tbh. The only thing keeping me somewhat interested is peeks at Junior. The plot just isn't for me.

Season of Love in Shimane: After watching episode three I wasn't sure what to expect from this latest episode. I absolutely cannot wait for it all to come out that everyone is interested in everyone else lmao.

The Next Prince: Y'all the club? And they just "lost" Calvin like what? The random trauma, and yes it is random- there have been previous times where they are in the rain and there has been no meltdown. Y'all can hate on me all you want but its weird that they just threw it in there now. They could have built it up more, I'm just saying.

I Promise I'll Come Back: I feel for Mr. runner up, but like he could have made his moves earlier...

Reset: Baby boy keeps talking about the future and things that happen without a care in the world. He's going to end up getting thrown into therapy if he doesn't chill with it. Also Man's just rolls with it like it's not the most out of pocket stuff.

Our Unwritten Seoul: Park Bo Young is continually proving to me how amazing of an actress she is. I am obsessed with this show to the point where I've already watched the last couple of episodes twice.

Second Shot at Love: Dude, I feel for the older sister. As an older sister everyone else can get out of her business

Ball Boy Tactics: Oh this one is going to be so good. I cannot wait for episodes 3 and 4 this week.

My Stubborn: That bathroom scene, enough said. Sorn is for sure getting what's coming to him next episode. Unfortunately it's probably not therapy.

Sweetheart Service: These two are still so cute together.

Tastefully yours: I'm so behind on it for two reasons. 1. I'm watching it with my partner. 2. We had to attend a wedding this past weekend. However I did have some stuff spoiled for me and I cannot wait to watch.

Shows I finished this week:

Cosmetic Playlover: What a back and forth. They seemed like they had zero communication with each other and that was hella frustrating.

Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist: Gmmtv really botched not promoting this show as much as they should have. Mark and Ohm deserved better, they killed it with this show.

Nine Puzzles: Woah. Just Woah. This, despite having to watch it dubbed, is probably one of my top straight kdramas this year.

At 25:00, in Asaka: Why was it so good?

Takara's Treasure: I loved the communication between these two <3 So much better compared to most couples in dramas istg.

[anghraine]

I got home from my (maternal) grandmother's funeral in rather worse health (asthma wise) and after all kinds of right wing family drama (it's conservative on conservative violence, the rest of us were largely just organizing and preparing for the funeral), but it was a much smoother, pleasanter event in general than my grandfather's.

I'm incredibly tired, though. On the bright side, I did manage to keep writing every day—just on my cell phone (which I hate doing) and not a whole lot, but still, my streak is unbroken!

[now for the whining]

I total caved to family pressure, though. Most people seem to believe that piano playing is physically effortless and only challenging in a coordination sense, but in fact when my asthma is already bad it does drastically aggravate already-poor breathing. I'd agreed to play the specific song my grandmother had requested, but told my mother I probably wouldn't have the fortitude for anything else, and I really couldn't sing (both for breath reasons and for my voice getting much lower in the ongoing asthma episode reasons). But my mother has had to hold her entire family together by the sheer strength of her will, she's the one who prepared her mother's body (understandably upsetting and her siblings are... let's just say that she combines maximal Eldest Daughter syndrome with the most dutiful, disciplined firstborn child energy possible and they are happy to let her do so), her knees are basically non-functional and yet she's running everyone around and keeping the children happy and etc. And she really wanted me to sing with them (especially the song all the women of the family were singing) and help them practice their piece and play in the background.

So I ended up helping everyone practice and playing for hours without interruption in the background and singing with the other family members for three separate songs including all four verses of "How Great Thou Art", all of which required me to drop the melody a full octave. I guess getting dragged into unwisely singing with The Women of the Family only for my voice to sound like a baritone amidst theirs is one way to Do Gender at... a funeral... anyway.

But everyone was really nice about the piano playing. Even my awful MAGA aunt was like "wow did you even realize you played for over two hours without stopping? It was really nice" and my uncle, her brother, went "and without missing a note, either" and I tried to just politely thank them while my back and entire right arm were throbbing, lol. I actually hadn't played in over a year because my piano is horrendously out of tune, but at long last my years of hiding out at church via being the Forever Accompanist until I withdrew altogether were helpful, since all my grandmother's favorite hymns are basically coded into my hands at this point.

My bio father, who was there because of his closeness with Grandma, was honestly an unexpected champ, too. He stayed with me at the piano, made sure I ate and was feeling as well as possible, kept me headed in the right direction when I got turned around, told me I sounded like crap when I was feeling especially unwell, etc. He asked if I'd looked at the body and I was like "no, I don't really.......want to," and he went "yeah, I'm the same, I'd rather remember people the way I knew them than look at a corpse, I'm trying to avoid going over there." So, uh, unexpected corpse-dodging father-daughter solidarity there.

My adoptive father was also great, and kept my mother functional, but also kept refilling a water bottle and giving it to me to drink so I didn't hack up an entire lung, found me Tylenol, and got me back home even though it meant us traveling some 700 mi in three days. So it wasn't all awful or anything, just exhausting.

Also, all this was held near where I was born and where my maternal family has lived for decades (my grandparents moved there in... 1976, I think), and I myself visited my grandparents there every summer and lived there for a couple of years. So there were a lot of people I knew as a child and relatives beyond the most closest related. And I got to pursue my family-gathering hobby of telling various relatives how old I now am :D (I look younger than I really am, so they always have to stop to contemplate the inexorable passage of time), while Mother got to boast about my PhD to relatives who've often rather looked down on her.

And the church all this was happening at is actually where I first learned to play as a tiny Anghraine (aged 8). The main church organist/pianist from then (now very elderly) was like "oh, Mary Elizabeth, you played so beautifully" and enough of 8-year-old me survives that I was enormously gratified. She also added, "And for so long, your back and hands are going to hurt so much later" which was some very welcome validation, lol.

[firstkanaphans]

There is so much drama on twitter right now because of the Shabu event of tomorrow 😮 Like people are literally fighting because their favourites are "guests" and they are feeling used for the trending... Like, is it that serious? Why are people overreacting?

I just hope everyone will have fun at the event because with all the people involved it should be amazing 🤩

Oh my god. This is honestly the most hilarious thing that could have possibly happened. For those who aren’t following all of the Twitter drama (so jealous of you, bestie), a bunch of CPs are going to an event tomorrow for Shabushi including FirstKhaotung, PerthSanta, JoongDunk, OffGun, and SkyNani. However, the hashtag for the event only includes Sky and Nani’s names so now in order for the other fandoms to trend their own pair, they also have to trend SkyNani. And they’re mad about it.

I believe this choice was made because SkyNani have an official sponsorship with this brand so all the others are technically “guests,” but you’ve still gotta love the optics of the headliners being the one pair on stage who haven’t kissed. And during pride month too!

Anyway, this is why I hate these brand events. The fandom gets mad when we have them. The fandom gets mad when we don’t. There’s no winning. At least the lead up to this one has given me a few laughs and fingers crossed for some SkyKhao interactions tomorrow because that would heal me, I think.

[rhysie11]

What an amazing answer! Thank you so much for taking the time to write all that out! It really does mean a lot that you would take the time to give such a detailed and well thought out response. Tbh I thought I was sending a direct message, but I can truly say that I am so glad it wasn’t! All the best rhyiona writers answering my question with such specific details?! That’s awesome! Thank you for extending my question to them as well! I know exactly what you mean about having that crave of scratching that itch that the game did not really provide, apart from the interested in someone else. Especially BL3 and the new tales game. Both were terribly disrespectful to the characters they spent 5 episodes flushing out. But honestly there are a few little parts here and there that could be interpreted as them flirting or hinting that they may be growing a fondness for each other beyond normal friendship. Especially in the beginning, Fiona and Rhys’ relationship is so complicated. It might have taken being kidnapped at gunpoint and dragged through the desert together for them to work out their rocky journey, but it gave them the opportunity to respect and truly understand each others mindset throughout their adventure even before meeting. If they were harboring even the slightest feelings for each other before being separated at Helios, it would have been the best place for them to realize it and have it slowly blossom into something more. Something Rhys definitely didn’t do with Sasha. It’s an amazing story and I would like to write a fanfic or something on rhyiona too! But just writing this response took me so long and I wouldn’t know where to start. Tbh that’s kinda why I asked you! So I could gain maybe a little motivation to try and join the lovely rhyiona writers here!

On another note, I’m really sorry to hear that life’s been rough on you lately.. Times are tough, especially recently and I hate to hear that it’s not going as well as it should be. Everything is temporary and I know life is going to slow down and feel way more manageable before you realize. I am extraordinarily excited to read more from you, and see the interesting prompts you come up with! I’ve been reading a chapter every night that I am able to, and nothing puts me to sleep like reading your great stories! I’d love to maybe think of some prompts for you to write of our 2 favorite vault hunters later on when you get less busy and are able to have more time to yourself! Who knows! Maybe I’ll even try to tackle some short one shots myself. You and everyone you mentioned are able to scratch that itch I have for Rhyiona content so well, and I hope to see more from each and every one of you! You are all super! @comma-tose @admiralsweko @plague-cure

Thank you so much for answering my question and for your beautiful insight! It was really cool being able to hear how each of you started into this community! I am super happy to contribute even the tiniest bit to this amazing community! I hope to contribute more soon. Thank you again for your time! I am grateful you appreciated my comments and that I was able to make your day! It means a whole lot to me with how much these stories help me. May your pillows forever remain cool, and your showers stay the perfect temperature the entire time! God bless you too! You all are awesome!

Hey so I gotta ask! What got you back into tales? If you ever left lol. It’s just I LOVED tales back then but for some reason my saves keep corrupting and I got tired of dealing with it so I deleted it 💀 but I recently got back into it and I’ve been reading your fanfic and I’m loving it! It’s so true to their characters! For some reason I always felt Fiona was a better match for Rhys and that last scene with them in the vault was the nail in the coffin. What got you into it again? Because truly I have no idea why I did 😭

Firstly, it is so incredibly lovely to know that something I’ve written has brought someone else joy. Thank you so, so much! Life has been very rough for me lately, having me constantly busy and I probably will be for a while, so I don’t know when I’ll update and write anymore chapters after Chapter 15, but know I do plan on getting back into it whenever life slows down. Suddenly, I’m given this brief moment to check Tumblr as a break from reality, and upon doing so I saw this comment of yours! To receive a comment is truly so delightful. Seriously, thank you times a million<3 So, to answer what you’ve asked, well…

As years have flown by and life became more complex for me, I craved comfort in nostalgia, and how I’d typically get my fix of comforting nostalgia was from old narrative-driven video games. When I first got into Tales From The Borderlands, I believe it was when Jacksepticeye posted his gameplay footage for it. The year the game came out, I was twelve years old, so it feels really random how memories of the game’s existence hit me about a decade later. Now that you’ve asked, I’ve reflected, and I think it was stepping into being an English major that made me remember the game.

From indulging in narrative-driven video games at such a young age, I fell in love with the idea of storytelling and specifically that of creative writing. So, during my most recent semester at college, I finally decided to take an intro to fiction writing course that covered so many aspects of storytelling. The instructor would invite classmates and I to share examples of stories that applied certain narrative techniques, and that’s what really jogged to mind Tales From The Borderlands. I couldn’t stop bringing up the game numerous times. “Does anyone have an example of a piece of media that uses a type of plot structure we can discuss?” (Oh, well Tales From the Borderlands utilizes frame narrative structure.) “Let’s talk unreliable narrators” (Oh! Well, there are these two protagonists, Rhys and Fiona…) “Does anyone have an example of Chekhov’s gun?” (Felix’s gift to Sasha) “Given the twelve character archetypes we went over, pick one and give an example of it” (Gortys falls under The Child archetype, as she is hopeful yet naive…) In short, I believe this is how I got back into watching gameplay of Tales From The Borderlands. Analyzing and studying any beloved media of storytelling can teach a writer a lot about how to improve in the craft.

If I’m honest, I’ve never written fanfiction before, and I never thought I’d get into it. Fourteen year old me thought fanfiction was absolutely cringe and not worth getting into, either writing it or reading it. Twenty-two year old me, being very frustrated that romancing Rhys and Fiona was not an option, decided to indulge in reading a lot of Rhyiona fanfic to scratch the itch the game did not provide, and I quickly learned that there are so many incredibly talented writers that write incredible fanfic. Writers like @andaxay @admiralsweko @rin-bellatrix absolutely proved the pretentious mindset I had at fourteen was so very wrong, and such a joy it is to be proven wrong for something as silly as that.

Naturally, as to how I decided to start writing my own fanfic, reading the works of those fanfic writers and many more from ao3 have inspired me to give it a shot. Additionally, as someone who has stressed over original content she wants to put out someday, I wanted a break from getting so hung up on my original work’s rough patches of the writing process, while still practicing the craft of creative writing somehow. Thus, fanfiction just made sense to start exercising and honing in on narrative techniques while removing the pressure I have from time to time regarding my original stories. While writing fanfic, I could practice character voice vs narrator voice, flashbacks, narrative pacing, varying sentence structure in developing a writing style, etc. etc. I’m still learning as a writer, and always will be, so writing fanfic is such a fun way to go about my journey. And upon further research, I’ve found that many amazing writers have actually started practicing their craft by writing fanfiction. For example, Marissa Meyer (New York Times Bestselling author of The Lunar Chronicles) started off writing Sailor Moon fanfic! It’s so cool to see other people’s writing journey, and now in my own writing journey, it’s so cool to have support like yours with me!

Thanks again for enjoying my content and for reaching out to me. I wish I could convey to you how much it means to me to have such a response. Again, my life has been really rough lately, so I am not exaggerating when I say this; seeing someone genuinely interested in anything I chose to write is so uplifting, and it truly made my night. You’re seriously so awesome! May your days be filled with traffic-free drives and the best breakfast foods ever served (Translation: May you have amazing blessings come your way!!! God bless you!!!)

[sk3l3t0n444]

its going to be a long but fun night

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Okay 3 things

1. I was thinking about an aroace Sonic who says things that can be taken as wildly flirty/romantic but he just means them genuinely. “You have beautiful eyes, I keep getting distracted while looking at them,” not cause he’s interested romantically in them but because eyes can be really cool and pretty man I dunno what to tell you he likes looking at cool things and he thinks his friends are neat. “You’re the most beautiful person here,” because he really thinks that, he loves his friends

2. Sonic randomly dropping heartfelt genuine comments on his friends out of the blue completely blindsiding them and then moves on like nothing happened while they’re left going ?????? Bonus points if he does something immensely stupid or jerkish just before or immediately afterwards and they can’t tell if he was serious or not with the compliment (yes he was)

3. Sonic usually being so allergic to truly vulnerable moments that when he expresses something heartfelt randomly Tails thinks he’s been stabbed or something and does not believe him when he reassures him that he’s fine he’s fine he’s not dying yeesh

[soulbrand]

man you all were not kidding abt the therapyspeak in veilguard.