#or i see the keyboards and wonder how hard it would be to learn that

[just-your-average-tangerine]

I'm normal and can be trusted inside music stores

[boohorns1136439]

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (07)

Don’t think I forgot about the chapter! I took an unplanned nap earlier, but I still made it (from where I am, it’s still five minutes before midnight, so technically, it’s still Monday)! This chapter was tough to write and edit (tough is an understatement 😭), but here we are! I think as I’m trying to write longer chapters, they’re becoming significantly more work (especially when I try to do it all at once). Hope you enjoy this one too!

Warning: cursing

tags: aged-up characters ; Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; afab!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; eventually smut ; bisexual!Reader

06 <- 07 -> 08

Masterlist

Taglist —> if you want to be tag

When Todoroki arrived at the hospital, he paused at the entrance, his gaze fixed on the bouquet of dahlias in his hand. The vibrant petals stood out sharply against the sterile white surroundings of the building, and for a moment, doubt crept in. Was this a mistake? Should he have stayed home? Couldn't he have just sent an apology email or made a call instead? Why was he here, standing in front of these doors? Doubts filled him, but just as quickly as they appeared, they were pushed aside. Something about this moment—about seeing you and apologizing face-to-face—pulled at him in a way he couldn’t explain. It felt necessary, like a weight he couldn’t ignore. The urge to make things right, to apologize properly, tangled with an unclear mess of emotions, stronger than his uncertainty. The thought of seeing you again was both tempting and terrifying, and he couldn’t quite understand why.

With a deep breath, he steadied himself, taking one last look at the bouquet before stepping forward. His body seemed to move almost on its own, urging him forward as if it knew better than his mind. It felt pointless to resist, and he hated not fully understanding himself. Usually, everything was clear and simple, but now, the confusion, the unknown, and the awkwardness destabilized him.

Clutching the bouquet like a shield, Todoroki walked through the unfamiliar halls. Nurses and staff gave him curious glances—heroes usually arrived with an ambulance, not alone—but he ignored their stares as he normally did when he was in public. His focus was solely inward; his heart was racing, fast, too different from its usual calm beat. As he tried to compose himself, he knew this wasn’t just nervousness; it was something else, something hard to name. Todoroki could barely distinguish it, buried under so many feelings and the he closer he got to the hero wing, the more intense the feeling became. He was painfully aware of how each steps made his pulse race, and him self-conscious of his heart pumping loudly in his chest and ears.

When he reached the front desk, he paused for a moment, swallowing, preparing himself and trying to stay composed, as the receptionist looked up at him, briefly eyeing the bouquet before offering a polite, practiced smile.

"Good morning, how may I help you?"

"Good morning," Todoroki replied, his voice quieter than usual, and he mentally shook off his awkwardness before continuing. "I was here a few days ago, and… I was wondering if it would be possible to see the doctor who was in charge of my care during my hospitalization."

The receptionist’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as he typed. After a few seconds, he turned his attention back to Todoroki. "Of course. If you have questions about your treatment or would like a follow-up consultation, Dr. Hasegawa would be happy to schedule an appointment with you."

Todoroki nodded absentmindedly, but his thoughts had already wandered. Dr. Hasegawa... So that was your name. It floated in his mind: Dr. Hasegawa, I’m sorry for my behavior, he thought, trying to figure out what he would say when he faced you. I apologize for acting so inappropriately. Please let me make it up to you... maybe I could buy you a coffee after work?, but he immediately dismissed the thought.

Todoroki barely noticed how tightly he had been gripping the bouquet, the delicate stems pressing into his fingers, but he didn’t loosen his hold. He was still lost in his thoughts, and he couldn’t understand why he felt so anxious, on top of that, now the flowers seemed like such a strange gesture. When was the last time he’d bought flowers for anyone who wasn’t his mother? He couldn’t even remember. Maybe for Bakugo? That one time? Giving you flowers seemed more and more odd with each passing second, but he knew he couldn’t just throw them away now. A small part of him was still wondering if the flowers colors would truly match your eyes, as he had imagined back in the flower shop.

This was supposed to be a quick visit, just to apology to you. He was only here to make amends—no need for coffee or flowers, no need for anything beyond that. And yet, there he was, dahlias in hands, and feeling a flutter of anticipation building in his chest, an unexplained excitement buzzing through him.

“He’s currently in a consultation but should be available to meet with you in about twenty to thirty minutes. Will that be alright?”

Todoroki blinked, startled. He? There was no he.

“My doctor was a woman,” he said slowly, his brow furrowing in confusion.

The receptionist looked equally confused by his words, and he checked his computer before replying. "No, the doctor who treated you was Dr. Haruto Hasegawa, and he’s definitely a man."

There was now way he could have been wrong, he was sure of it and in his memory of the moment, although blurry , he could still clearly remember you: your eyes, your hair, the curve of your lips, your hands—everything about you had looked so pretty in his eyes. He was certain it was a woman who clung to his mind, like a shadow he longed to fade with time.

“There must be some mistake,” he said, sure of himself. “A doctor came to check on me in the afternoon and I saw her, it wasn’t a man.”

“In the afternoon?” The receptionist frowned, his tone taking on a slightly exasperated edge. “It says here that Dr. Hasegawa treated you in the morning, and he was in surgery all afternoon.” His gaze flicked back to Todoroki, the growing impatience evident. “Doctors don’t usually handle post-treatment checkups unless it’s an exception.”

This just didn’t make sense to Todoroki and as he opened his mouth to argue further, the receptionist’s expression shifted. His eyes lit up, as though he’d just pieced together a puzzle.

“Wait a second,” he said, fingers flying across the keyboard once again. “It was probably Nurse Asuna Shimizu. The nurses handle most of the checkups after treatments, and according to your file, she was assigned to you during your stay.”

For a moment, Todoroki faltered. He had been so sure it was a woman—but whether you were a doctor or a nurse? He wasn’t certain anymore. Now, he wondered if he’d completely missed the pastel pink of your hospital scrubs. After all, he hadn’t exactly been focused on your uniform that day—his attention had been caught by... well, everything else about you. You were a vivid image against the foggy backdrop of his memory.

“I guess you’re right. I might’ve been mistaken,” he admitted reluctantly, though uncertainty lingered in his voice. “Would it still be possible to see her?”

“Of course,” the receptionist replied smoothly. “I’ll call her now, she should be in the break room, so it won’t take too long.”

As the receptionist made the phone call, “An ex-patient wants to see you again, probably about his treatment I don’t know. It’s a pro hero.” Todoroki stood there awkwardly and stiffly.

The unfamiliar ticking of anxiety crawled through his veins, unraveling his nerves with every heartbeat. His held his breath every time he heard footsteps approaching from behind, and he fought the urge to whip his head around, afraid of appearing too eager or worse, desperate.

The wait stretched on endlessly, and he stared blankly at the sterile hospital walls as he tried to keep his thoughts from spiraling. His palms felt clammy, and his throat dried out despite his repeated attempts to swallow. The stems of the dahlias, crushed and fragile beneath his restless fingers, bore the burden of his agitation and he prayed silently that his jittery state wasn’t so visible to anyone nearby. When the receptionist finally spoke again, Todoroki felt the ground shift beneath him.

“Oh, Asuna, you’re here. Here is the patient who wanted to meet with you.”

Todoroki froze. The wave of emotions that had been brewing all day—restlessness, anticipation, and fear—crashed over him all at once as his breath hitched. This is it, he thought, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Slowly, he turned around, as though he was bracing himself for the sight of you while the memory of your sweet peach scent tugged at him like a siren’s call, and demanded him to turn faster.

Todoroki’s heart sank at the sight of the nurse. The woman who approached wasn’t you; her hair, eyes, height, and face bore no resemblance to the seared image of you that he held in his mind. But the most glaring difference, the one that sealed it instantly, was her scent.

Scents were undeniable markers of identity—a fact anyone with a decent nose understood. It wasn’t usually a big deal; people were described as “the omega with the citrusy scent” or “the Alpha who smells like coffee beans,” just as casually as someone’s hair color or complexion might be noted. But your scent had been different. He wasn’t sure if it was his premature heat that made him more sensitive, but it had struck him like a physical blow, enveloping him completely and commanding his attention in a way he hadn’t been able to shake since.

The soft lavender and floral notes emanating from Nurse Shimizu weren’t unpleasant, sure, but they didn’t come close to the syrupy sweetness of peaches that had lingered around you. That scent—your scent—felt addictive, disorienting in its intensity, and it had burned itself into his mind more than he liked to admit. Whoever Asuna Shimizu was supposed to be, her scent clearly told him she was not you and definitely not an alpha too. Nothing about it poked and tease his omega like yours had.

Todoroki’s stomach twisted with a bitter ache. He felt foolish for expecting anything different. Maybe you were purposely avoiding him, and who could blame you? He had acted so shamefully during his heat, basically threw himself at you, and let his instincts overshadow his judgment. His mate's breaking your face had only made things horrifically worse. He was so focused on seeing you again that he forgot how serious the situation was and the guilt he felt soared from this realization, which only made him feel even more disappointed in himself. He had been acting so strangely over the past few days, wondering about trivial, selfish and superficial matters instead of how his actions impacted you. He know from experience how a punch from Kirishima could knocked you down and how disgusting unwanted sexual advances felt.

"Nurse Shimizu," Todoroki began, after he approached her maintained respectful distance. "I understand if your colleague doesn’t want to see me again. My mate and I behaved inexcusably, and I want to offer my sincere apologies. Please let her know she can contact my agency if she wishes to seek any form of compensation." He said, serious, measured and polite as possible, wanting to cause any further trouble for you or, what he assumed, your nurse friend.

It took Asuna a moment to piece everything together, before realization flashed through her eyes and she stepped closer to Todoroki, lowering her voice so only he could hear.

“When were you hospitalized?” she asked, her suspicions growing clearer after his response. Her fingers anxiously tugged at the edge of her sleeve as she pressed on, her tone tinged with nervousness. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you and Dr. L/n, but... is there any chance we can keep the hospital out of this? I know I shouldn’t have asked her to cover for me, but... whatever happened could be sorted out privately, right?” She let out an awkward laugh, clearly unaware of the incident between the pro hero and you, and her focus instead on ensuring her little escape from work remained unnoticed. Her eyes flickered around the room to check no one could over hear her little confession before they landed on the bouquet in Todoroki’s hands, a spark of curiosity breaking through her tension.

“Are those... flowers?” she asked, her voice a little lighter, in a terrible attempt at shifting the topic after the lack of response from Todoroki.

He blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Yes. Could you give them to her? As an apolo—"

Before he could finish, the nurse interrupted him. "She left early that day and hasn’t been back since. But I could tell her you want to see her when she is back ?” She offered.

The words hit Todoroki like a brick. You weren’t here. You hadn’t been here for three days, and it was undeniable—he was the reason for your absence. He had spent so much time thinking about you since arriving at the hospital, yet the truth slammed into him again: his thoughts had been filled with peaches, warmth, and beauty, while the reality was far darker. He couldn't escape the image of your tears, the memory of his unrelenting grip on your wrist as you tried to leave, the sickening sound of Kirishima’s fist connecting with his face, and the heavy, metallic scent of your blood staining the hospital’s sterile white floor. Now, all he could see was the wreckage he had caused you, and the painful realization that perhaps the only apology he truly needed to offer was leaving you alone.

Don’t tell me you thought it would be that easy. The reader is over there thinking her life is over, and you think she’s just going to go back to work?

Todoroki is a mess in this chapter, blushing and acting bashful like a high schooler with his first crush (this will make sense later). But, I didn’t want to downplay what happened to the reader too much. Todoroki should at least be aware of the consequences of his actions. I thought ending on a serious note would provide a nice contrast to the silly ending of the previous chapter. God I hope I didn’t write myself in a corner but I think I’ll make it work.

I think we’ve seen enough of Todoroki for now—next chapter will focus on Izuku! I know Todoroki may seem like my favorite character in this fic since, aside from the reader, he’s had the most POV chapters (probably more than the reader), but surprisingly, he’s not actually my favorite from the group. Don’t worry, though. I’m not playing favorites in thisbdix. Everyone will get their fair share of attention and dedicated chapters. We’re just starting off with a lot of Todoroki.

2,2k words, the chapter is extra long as an apology to the wait. Oh yeah, I am still waiting on the polls results but I’ll be honest, I maybe just decide for something else.

As always, criticisms are welcome.

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

06 <- 07 -> 08

My apologies if I forgot anyone in the taglist. This taglist is lowkey getting out of hand 😭

-> If you want to tag in the next update, check out the taglist post !

Taglist: @too-much-gacha ; @electronicexpertshark ; @poopopp ; @cjdjfhfhfufjfdj ; @kimi01985 ; @icycoldbeanieweanies ; @ghostlyworld ; @marsbars09 ; @queenondeezmatatas ; @imnotherw ; @bedheadloser ; @chrisbiniesluvrr ; @fsocs-blog ; @jadeddangel ; @qardasngan ; @omgeyeless-blog ; @goldenglow149 ; @andysteve1311 ; @pinkmelodies ; @hopefulb1ue ; @redkarmakai ; @zukusluvr ; @navezepol221 ; @candiiee ; @aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaq ; @mniya ; @randomhuman112 ; @mintvender r ; @deadendgrim ; @captainswanarcher ; @figbaby ; @midnight-nightmare ; @bluepatrolbear ; @talilosha ; @bawlangya ; @optimisticprime3 ; @purplescorpi0 ; @astrolovedy ; @desiree-lee ; @okaysxx ; @the-faceless-bride ; @thelameone101 ; @gethexxed ; @lowkeyhottho ; @bvirrious ; @heespretty ; @roxy776699 ; @kamy-thee-egg ; @talia-the-gemini ; @pikachuzhc ; @itsnotjustmyself-blog ; @roxy776699 ; @mystic60 ; @reallysparklychaos ; @sixxze ; @blurryperrtymoonlight ; @1poison-cat1 ; @allyfoxglove ; @mindsbloody ; @jkvolgs ; @haruaikawa ; @k3nmakyan ; @my-anime-garden

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Suicide Prevention Month

TW: Mentions of Suicide, Depression, Death, Familial Issues

In honor of Suicide Prevention Month, I want to share something that’s been weighing on me for a long time. From ages 11 to 19, I tried—five different times—to end my life. I was convinced that the darkness was all there was, that there was nothing beyond the pain I felt. But now, almost 20 years old, I’ve realized how wrong I was. If any of those attempts had succeeded, I wouldn’t be here to experience all the beauty and opportunity this life has to offer.

It’s hard to put into words just how much I’ve learned about myself over the years. I’ve been through more pain than I ever thought I could endure. There were moments when it felt like even the darkness was too bright for me, and all I wanted was for everything to stop. Some days, that feeling still lingers. Some days, I wake up and wish I had succeeded. I find myself staring at a blank page with a pen clutched in my hand, or a blank screen with my hands over the keyboard, wondering if anyone would stand at my grave if I disappeared. 

But here’s what I’ve come to understand: If I have a reason to write a note, I have a reason to keep living. The very act of wanting to leave something behind, a final word or explanation, means there’s something still holding me here. Something still worth fighting for, even if I can’t always see it in the moment.

Life isn’t easy. I know firsthand what it’s like to feel like the world has turned its back on you. 

My life is far from perfect. I’m still dealing with things that weigh me down, wounds that have never fully healed.  For as long as I can remember, I’ve been trying to reconcile what it means to be "unwanted." And for a long time, I thought that meant I didn’t deserve to be here.There are times when I still feel like I’m on the outside looking in, struggling with rejection from the people who are supposed to love me unconditionally. When I was 18, I almost died in a car accident, and my mother didn’t shed a single tear. I can vividly remember lying in that hospital bed, watching her scroll through her phone as if my being there was nothing more than an inconvenience.

I still feel the weight of that day. But the most painful moment was later, during a heated argument when I broke down and whispered, "I wish I had died." My mother, who had started a new family with my stepfather and seemed to drift away more and more each second had shot back immediatelt "Well, too bad you didn’t."

It was in that moment, more than any other, that I truly felt abandoned—like I was nothing but an obligation to her. It was the moment I realized the cage I felt trapped in was my own hope that my mother might one day see me, acknowledge me, love me the way I had longed for her to. That kind of pain—the pain of abandonment, of never being enough for the people who are supposed to love you the most—it doesn’t go away overnight. Maybe it never fully goes away at all.

But here’s what I’ve learned: the pain isn’t forever. No matter how much it hurts right now, it won’t always hurt this bad. Over time, it becomes easier to carry. There are days now where I can breathe again, where I’m reminded that life still has so much left for me to experience.And that i deserve to be here. That God put me on this planet for a reason. That whatever you believe in - God, Allah, the Universe, Science- there is a reason why you are here. And if I deserve to be here- so do you.

No matter how hard life gets, and trust me, it gets unbearably hard sometimes, there is still so much left to experience. There’s still love to be found, friendships to build, moments of pure joy and connection that you can’t even begin to imagine when you’re stuck in that dark place. If those five attempts had worked, I never would’ve had the chance to meet new people, to maybe one day fall in love, to start a family of my own. I wouldn’t be here, sitting at my desk, writing this, hoping that my words reach even just one person who needs to hear it.

Sometimes, when things feel like they’re too much, I find solace in the small, ordinary moments. The smell of coffee in the morning. The feeling of dread when I see a spider and know I have to deal with it. The excitement of seeing a friend I hadn’t seen in a while, or the simple contentment of putting my thoughts on paper. Life isn’t just made up of the big, earth-shattering moments; it’s these small, everyday experiences that give it meaning.

I’ll be honest—there are days when I still struggle. Days where I feel like I’m slipping back into that tunnel where the light at the end seems unreachable. I know that feeling well. I’m going through it right now, in fact. It hits me hard, especially knowing that even during my lowest points, there were no tears shed for me. That’s a kind of pain that lingers.

But even in the midst of that pain, I’ve learned something important: suicide is a permanent solution to a set of temporary problems. I’m not saying that life will magically get better overnight, or that you won’t face hardships moving forward. You will. Life doesn’t pull any punches. But what I am saying is that there are bright, beautiful days ahead of you, ones that you can’t even fathom yet. There are people you’ll meet along the way who will walk with you, hold your hand, and help you face whatever’s ahead. You don’t have to be scared to face those days alone.

There are people in my life who I rely on heavily—people who don’t even know how much they mean to me because I don’t want to burden them with my struggles. Sometimes it’s the smallest things they do that make the biggest difference. And that’s something I’ve learned recently: even when you feel like a burden, even when you feel like no one cares, there are people who love and need you, even if they don’t always show it in the way you hope they would.

You are loved. You are needed. And I know that might be hard to believe right now, but trust me, it’s true. If I could go back and talk to that 11-year-old me, the one who thought that the only way out was to end it all, I’d tell her to hang on. That the future, while uncertain and sometimes terrifying, is full of possibility. That there are so many more smiles to smile, more laughs to laugh, more songs to hear, more stories to live.

I’ve lived 19 years as an adult. Almost 20. And it’s only now that I’m starting to experience that pure, childlike wonder I thought was lost to me forever. It’s only now that I’m beginning to see what’s truly possible in life. And if any of those five attempts had succeeded, I would’ve missed out on all of it. On the hope of finding love, of giving my future children the kind of love I yearned for growing up. On the anticipation of doing great things. On the nervous indecisiveness of realizing that my future is wide open, waiting for me to step into it.

So if you feel like you can’t take another day, I want you to know that it *will* get better. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But eventually, you’ll reach the end of that tunnel. And when you do, there will be people waiting for you, ready to help pull you through. Stay for them. Stay for the small moments you haven’t experienced yet, the ones that seem insignificant but make life worth living. Stay because your story isn’t over yet, and you are the one who gets to write the next chapter.

It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. It’s okay to feel lost. But know this—you are strong enough to get through it. I’ve been there. But I’m still here, and I’m asking you to stay, too. Stay to see the good that’s still waiting for you. Stay to laugh, to cry, to feel all the things that make life real. Stay, because you are loved, even when you can’t see it. You matter more than you know.

You are the author of your story. It’s not finished yet, and the best chapters are still ahead. Stay for them. Stay for you. 

You matter. Your life matters. And the world is a better place with you in it.

[saaraahka]

You post a lot of things wondering when you're going to be loved by someone so let me ask: What active steps are you taking to be what you deem loveable and desirable? How are you preparing yourself for that future domme? You can always make that your own to-do list until that special someone is around to write one for you. Best of luck in finding them!

Hii anon and what a lovely ask and set of good and important questions to think of!

So I think a short answer to both questions is i actively try to do and learn to be better at, to at least in my mind to become more loveable and desirable is,

being kinder to myself when trying but not achieving what id like and see it as a learning oportunity not only a failure from my part.

Being more talkative and creating strategies for myself on how to interact with women even when it is just something like saying hi which for me is harder than i can describe and verbal communication is extremely hard for me. With texting it's easier but still mostly involve staring at my keyboard anxiously spending days not getting anywhere.

I try use the skills I have to be useful and helpful in other women's everyday life although still trying to learn how to comunicate this and understand how and when to offer and if it is somethingthat would be appreciated. Although for me this mostly limited to cooking and baking for others and helping with practical things in the limited way I can.

And I try do and experience as much as I can on my own to get at least a sense of what it feels like for me and if it is something I'd like to explore with someone else.

More than anything (i believe) submission is not about actions more than leaving control to someone else and trust them with my needs being met while also meeting theirs. Maybe it makes it hard to prepare myself for a unknown potential future domme but I feel it's the honest way to approach it myself.

And ofc being as shy and insecure and hesitant as I am to social situations and i teraction with women dommes even more so, I still have a lot to work on just to feel like I have something to offer. Since well I feel like a good level of trust can only from in a close relationship (platonic or other). And this obviously doesn't mean trying to become someone I'm not but also I need to be able to show someone how much they mean to me and have to be able to have conversations were I'm considered an active part. Will all of this help me find that special someone I have no idea but I can only try.

Ugh was going to be a short answer. But also have no idea what I'm doing or what steps would be best to focus on in what order or what traits a domme would appreciate in me... so yeah any help and thoughts welcome.

Um anyway ty for the ask and hope this makes sense ❤️

[veliseraptor]

ok ok inspired by the recent success of the three sentence meme going to try my regular pre-flight 150 words meme. aka send me a number from the list of fics below and I will write 150 words in that fic

1. Pete sat down on the floor. Porsche, hovering, gave him a worried look. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Pete said, then adjusted, “sitting.” 

“I can see that,” Porsche said. “Are you okay?”

Pete laughed. “No,” he said. He didn’t know when he was going to be okay again.

“Um,” Porsche said. After a couple seconds he sat down on the floor with Pete and put an awkward hand on his shoulder. “Do you, uh, want to talk about it?”

“No,” Pete said again. He didn’t know what he would even say, if there was anything to say. He was so tired and it felt like any minute now Vegas was going to die again, and he was just waiting for it to happen. (reduce, reuse, recycle)

2. “Can I ask you something?” Xiao Xingchen asked. Xue Yang glanced in his direction, fingers pausing on his keyboard.

“Sure,” he said. “Sounds ominous. Hit me.”

“It’s nothing bad,” Xiao Xingchen said. “I was just wondering if you remember what you said when we first met.” Xue Yang had said no before, in the hospital, but it’d clearly been a lie then. He was hoping maybe the answer would be different now. Xue Yang made some kind of face, but it was hard to read. 

That, Xiao Xingchen thought absently, was one of the things he was going to miss most: the ability to see Xue Yang’s face and read his expressions. Not just because he liked looking at him, but because it was going to get even harder to tell what he was thinking. (Redux)

3. Which brought him here, in a room with a dirty, scruffy boy of indeterminate age (a skinny fifteen, maybe), his hands tied behind his back and an expression of casual unconcern on his face. Unconcern, except for the dangerous glint in his eyes that Jin Guangyao was going to be careful not to forget.

“I didn’t say to restrain him,” he said to the disciples who’d brought him back. He hadn’t, to be precise, told them to bring him at all, but there was no point in saying so now.

“He tried to attack me,” said one of them. 

“After you got in my face,” the boy said. “You deserved it.” (jgy teaches xy to read)

4. Oh, no, Pete thought again, but with a little more despair this time.

“Take Pete,” Khun Kinn said.

Vegas’s gaze swept to Pete, flicked slowly over him from head to toe. “Isn’t he one of Tankhun’s?” he said. “He won’t be thrilled that you’re loaning out his bodyguard to me.”

“That’s not your problem.”

“Considering Tankhun,” Vegas said, “it actually might end up being my problem.” (the devil drives)

5. That slight hitch. A correction. The muscles between Fenris’s shoulders tensed and he thought abruptly, disjointedly, of a red-haired woman sitting at a table in the Hanged Man, the sudden realization…

“Anders,” he said. The mage barely glanced at him, seeming distracted.

“That big thing in the sky is scarier,” said the young girl. She, unlike her father, was looking at Fenris. “I heard it’s full of demons that’re trying to come out. What’re those lines on your skin, mister?” 

“They’re tattoos,” Fenris said. His limbs felt heavy. He glanced toward his sword, three paces away. “Meant to imitate Dalish vallaslin.” He hadn’t meant to say that. Something was wrong. “Anders,” he said again.

Anders was looking at his hands and frowning. “Bloody hell,” he said. “Where did you find magebane?” (the best all lack conviction)

6. Malkar meant it when he’d said he was going to demand a lot of me. He said if I wanted to be a hocus - wizard - nobody could know where I came from. “Do you think the Mirador will welcome a whore from Pharoahlight?” he asked me. “No one must ever know where you came from. They’d throw you out on the streets. Now tell me about the Curia again, and for god’s sake, mind your vowels.” 

And when I didn’t do well enough, fast enough, there were always consequences.

“This is how you learn, Felix,” Malkar said while I was shaking on hands and knees at his feet. He bent down and took my chin and tilted my head back so I was looking up at him, but he was gentle about it now. “It is for your own good.” (Pygmalion)

7. “Why are you so eager,” Song Lan asked. Xue Yang laughed, his smile turning sharper, a little less pleased.

“Why wouldn’t I be? A chance to help these poor people. Wouldn’t miss it.” Song Lan waited silently, and Xue Yang’s eyes cut away. “I’m curious, Song-daozhang,” he said. “Is there something wrong with that? Walking around with you and your judgmental glare gets boring. Give me a problem to chew on, a mystery to figure out, something.” (Walking Far From Home)

8. “Tell me...tell me how we met,” Xiao Xingchen said.

A brief pause that made Xiao Xingchen’s stomach swoop with sudden unease. “What,” his friend said lightly, “did you forget that, too?” 

“I’m…” Xiao Xingchen wasn’t sure if he should apologize or not. He tried to remember, even if thinking made his head hurt, searching through his jumbled thoughts. Something about the smell of blood? A fragment of thought: at least I might be able to fix this.  “You were hurt,” he said, half a question.

“Uh huh,” his friend said. “That’s good.”

“And I found you,” Xiao Xingchen said, a little more confidently. “Helped you.” (xiao xingchen + concussion)

[feyspeaker]

Hii me again. I'm not sure if I sent the ask I'm talking about on anon, so maybe that's why you didn't see it? It partially got answered with a recent ask you got anyway so no worries. I was just wondering if you use 3d in your process and if so, how? I've seen other illustrators use it to varying degrees and it seems like a really helpful tool to push your work.

Oh that's so weird! No I periodically go through my asks in chunks and I didn't see anything like that. I've had a few people in the past few months send me asks that looked like the second half of something else with no context, so maybe it's Tumblr fuckery. Sorry!!

I recommend learning Blender so you can help sculpt shapes and render lighting onto them in order to get the weirder/more complex shadows right. You can also apply colors onto the things you sculpt in order to see how the colors act in different lighting. It's pretty much an invaluable tool to me as it keeps me from having to problem-solve too much. I did a lot of digging around in my house to build references to photograph but it was just impractical to achieve the things I want to a lot of the time. I still do that, and you would not believe how many goofy photos I have of my husband in the poses you've seen me paint Astarion in lmao...

I do think that it needs to be used in moderation if you are a more beginner artist- I think that using 3D is DANGEROUSLY close to becoming a massive crutch for a newer artist and improper usage or over reliance on it can lead to stiffness or artificial looking colors. You need to be able to train your eye to create compelling compositions by bashing things together, and train your hand to replicate/add/subtract as needed from your references with an organic feel.

I will say this as a total committer of this crime myself in the past, it's VERY easy to tell when an artist relies too much on, for example, Clip Studio Paint posed models as bases for pieces without a good enough grasp on their fundamentals. And I also used to prickle when I saw more advanced artists warn of this, so I do think maybe it just has to run its course sometimes, because I know that using 3D for reference seems like an easy-button.

I've taken a lot of in-person classes for live figure drawing and painting, as well as just totally done drills, basically, on sketching and painting from life before relying too much on static imagery/3D/etc.

I often fret over every piece I do looking too stiff even still.

You have to do a LOT of the boring hard stuff the old fashioned way. And I regularly go back to it over and over when needed.

For example, I recently did a stupid amount of rose petal/flower studies deconstructing and painting ugly little paintings/doodles over and over because I know that I've been horribly weak at painting flowers for years (actively avoiding them). And I've been doing a lot of floral stuff lately due to that.

Whenever I start a new piece in new territory, I know it's going to mean several 3AM nighters where I have two other tabs open on Photoshop where I test out different textures or do a couple of studies. I'm working on a piece of my OC right now that has a lot of gore/medical instruments and I've been working on testing out different methods for shiny metal painting and some anatomical studies. I'll come to a snag in a painting and go "here we go" and work through it one piece at a time.

My Halsin piece, "Secret Spot" in the hot spring, was a massive undertaking with a lot of these moments. The Karlach x Dammon piece took 3 times longer than it should have due to me just having to go back and fix things knowing I could do better after doing some studies.

Ultimately I personally find art tutorials to be quite useless overall once you get to a certain point, unless they are teaching the use of a tool/software because you HAVE to figure out what works for you. And even then I use Blender like a monkey with a keyboard, I suspect, because I've just bruteforced through it, so I could probably use a tuneup from a good teacher on that haha. I hope this helps some, and sorry if I overstepped if I sound preachy.

[wrongcaitlyn]

Are we going to see anything more… mature… in Nico and Will’s relationship in tyt? I know that sex and like sex education should be normalized a lot more within teenagers and like society as a whole, but I feel rlly weird asking. I understand that it’s obviously very real and valid if you as an author feel uncomfortable writing about it, but I was wondering if there would be a mention of … something? Obviously fine if not

I just mean like how they’ve learned to grow and mature into young adults (which is something really hard with extended lengths fics, to show how characters grow like aging kids do from the characters us as writers usually start with in our heads). I think it’d be a great way to show how Nico has grown as person, and also normalizing the fact that these are growing young men and women in this fic, and that sex is a normal part of life.

Let me be clear‼️ I am NOT asking you to like write smut or something, just wondering if we’ll be getting a mention of that kinda thing.

that's a totally valid question!! and short answer: no, not really. and this is similar to the thing with pet names - logically, i know that they do it, and it makes sense - but i just don't know how to write it, don't feel very comfortable writing it, and so i don't write it😭

i think the closest i've ever gotten is like that one line where cecil makes a joke after nico flies to nashville, and it's like "do everything i wouldn't do!" because he's ace. sorry that was funny to meSDLKJF but yeah dirty jokes are about the furthest i'll get, just because i'm a sex-repulsed ace and it just feels weird to me, personally.

also, i've written a few fade to black scenes in other fics, and everytime i even get CLOSE to it i literally have to shut my eyes and look away from the keyboard because i'm just. cringing. idk i feel like whenever i even try to attempt a heavy makeout session it's just...sjdfksjdjkaf

i'm not sure if i'll ever like mention it offhandedly, because to me- idk, it just feels strange? especially in this fic, seeing as they started at fifteen in this universe, and so even though ik that they're nineteen now, it's just... this gut feeling i guess? like, i feel like i'm slightly more comfortably implying sex in fics where they start off at an older age, like, 20+.

and this is 100% not meant to shame authors who do write smut/implied underage sex, like as long as it's safe that's completely fine!! it's just a personal preference, and i feel super awkward writing anything even remotely dirty. like, some aces have this superpower of writing smut but i do not have that, i can barely get kiss scenes to sound naturalSLKDF

but thank you for the ask!! i've been kind of avoiding anything to do with that, so the answer is this: probably not. at most, a few dirty jokes and a brief mention. we'll see if it ever just comes into the fic, but i don't have any plans for it right now!

[bunny-heels]

leetspeak information post

so if you're someone who's played old online games as a kid and would see the numbers 1337 somewhere, either in someones username or put in a random spot on the map, or would notice random numbers in the middle of peoples names replacing letters- thats leetspeak! in fact, 1337 is the word leet written in leetspeak!

leetspeak is when you use different characters on a keyboard to replace letters in words so that they are harder to read for people who don't know it, and that way you can hide messages from people in plain sight.

history

it gained its popularity in the 80s when speaking to people around the world online started to grow in numbers. pretty much the only way to communicate with people online via computers and the network was using a BBS, Bulletin Board System, that was basically forums before they were called forums. right before IRC existed too! this language was commonly used by people who claimed themselves as hackers, or H4X0RS, and their knowledge of accessing hidden away files and system controls allowed them to be known as the "elite", giving them the title 31EE7 H4X0R. the most famous hacker at the time was Kevin Mitnick, who got arrested at one point in 95 by the FBI for computer hacking and wire fraud. if you're into 2000s gaming and his last name sounds familiar to you, thats because he's even referenced in Vampire: The Masquerade Bloodlines and is the name of the hacker Nosferatu in Hollywood!

should you even learn it?

yes!!! yes you should!!

leetspeak is a wonderful way to keep yourself and your thoughts hidden online from the general public, and especially from specific groups of people that you don't want finding you. as well, you can write a word in any way you want in leetspeak! you don't have to use the same replacing characters twice!

as an example, lets say you are making a post talking shit about na.zis, but youre scared that the trick of putting periods in between words isnt going to be enough to stop them from finding your post, since they can do the same thing.

easy solution! write it in leetspeak!

you could use n4z1, n@51, or even |\|/\-/_!. there's many different variations you can create when you really try to imagine it!

as well, leetspeak is an outdated way of communication, and most people have forgotten that it even exist, so its very likely that the people youre trying to talk shit about will be one of those people, and they'll never know how to find you! and even if they DID remember it existed, theyre probably too lazy to try and figure out the various combinations anyway, so youre always safe!

how to learn

learning leetspeak is especially easy to do when you practice it yourself. often the most common forms of leetspeak that is normalized is changing letters to numbers that look similar, such as E to 3, A to 4, G to 6, and so on so forth. there is also different levels of leetspeak that can be used to make the messages even harder to read for those inexperienced, so your secrets are extra safe.

here are some examples of words being turned into leetspeak at varying degrees of experience:

freckles -> f43ck135

spot -> $907

dictionary -> d1ct10n4ry

dog -> c|06

rabbit -> r48817

action -> @<7|0|\|

problems -> 9|~()9|_&|\/|$

the reason why the leetspeak versions of these words might be easy for you to understand right now is obviously because the actual words are right next to it. 8u7 1f 1 \/\/343 2 $7@47 7@|k1|\|6 |1k3 7h1$ ["but if i were to start talking like this"], then its very likely you won't be able to read it!

on the wiki page for leetspeak, there's a chart that list the most common combinations of replacements for letters that can be used

switching up how you do these various combinations can make you so hard to find that you'll basically disappear from people's searches entirely! making you safe from groups that are prone to harassment, bullying, and the like.

and, psst, for tumblr use especially, you could use this to spread awareness for a lot of topics that staff usually will delete entire posts and blogs over. staff won't know what to do when they suddenly can't find anymore more posts about 9/\|_3$71|\|3 to block.

leetspeak isn't that accessible for some people

leetspeak does not generally do well with people who have disabilities and the like that affects their ability to read, and is not a friendly language when it comes to screen readers.

sadly, tho, that is technically what you have to sacrifice if you want to use it to be hidden. some of your followers won't be able to read a post that you used leetspeak on to be able to avoid being detected, thus they miss out on whatever youre saying. and that can suck.

the best way to keep it as accessible as possible is learning the lower level form of leetspeak and using it in posts, such as only changing some of the letters in words to numbers, l1ke th1s, so that they can somewhat get a general idea as to what youre attempting to say.

there are some sites that do give the option to decode leetspeak, such as 1337.me and dcode.fr, however those sites rely on the old typical chart of leetspeak characters, so if you try to decode someone's unique way of hidden a message, it likely will come out not making sense.

for example, this is what the decoder thinks 9|~()9|_&|\/|$ spells. mind you that this is supposed to spell "problems".

this is how i would have to write it in order for the decoder to understand what i'm saying.

but if i try to put that same "fixed spelling" into the second decoder, it comes out as this

so, sadly, higher forms of leetspeak are not very friendly towards people who have difficulty reading, so if you want your post to be accessible for those individuals, then its best to either use the lower form of leetspeek, as 1n r3plac1ng as l1ttl3 l3tt3rs as p0ss1bl3 ["as in replacing as little letters as possible"], or to just u.s.e p.e.r.i.o.d.s so that the words get spelt out.

of course, if a person with a disability that affects their reading really wanted to, they could attempt to learn how to read it in their own way, such as learning what numbers replace which letters and what certain combinations of characters stand for. very much more power to them if they can, but that cant be easy. and i only wish the best for them.

also, the biggest and most obvious draw back- people who are not experienced or straight up do not speak english will have an impossibly difficult time reading it, some of them not even being able to use it for their own language depending on what it is. which, again, is why it's suggested to use the lower form of it or to just use periods in between words.

conclusion

if youre someone who is into the history of the old internet and has the time and ability to learn something new, PLEASE LEARN LEETSPEAK!!! it can be so so so so useful in the long run and i think it's a lovely way to communicate in secret, especially with how terrible internet secret and privacy has become in recent years, sometimes it can used as a last resort in order to make sure no one out there can be able to track and find you.

and its so much fun to figure out new ways to spell things! and the aesthetics of it can be very pretty!! and i just think its neat!!! please learn leetspeak!!!!!

here's some resources to help learn more about it:

Leet Speak Powerpoint Presentation (Live)

Leet Speak ABC

1337: Leetspeak

What Is Leetspeak: A Comprehensive Guide

1337 speak

[panickinganakin]

stepping stones to hell ch.4 (ronance fic)

hello! all previous chapters can be found here!

word count: 1,858

Robin cracked her fingers nervously. It didn’t matter how many years they had been at it, the feeling of anxious excitement always pooled in her stomach. They stood in the order they walked out in. Jeff, Lance, Robin and then Eddie. 

Jeff lifted up on his toes, waiting for Steve to give them the go in their ear pieces. Robin sucked in a breath as she heard him, “And, now.” 

Jeff bounced out of line with Lance following at his heels. The crowds screamed and hit Robin like a bag of bricks as she made her way out on the stage. She jogged over the drum set and took her seat. She was in absolute shock at the crowd. This was definitely the biggest show of their career so far. 

Eddie finally walked out and gave Robin a huge grin before sticking his tongue out. Robin knew it was time. She pulled her drumsticks from the pouch on the side of her set and puffed out a breath before bringing the first stick down. 

Her fingers buzzed as the drumsticks hit the tops of the instrument. Her, Jeff and Lance were about a minute into playing their intro when they shifted right into the opening song. Eddie stepped up to the microphone and the fans cheered before they started singing along with him.

These were a few hours that Robin lived for. She often wondered what life would be like had she not chosen to learn to play. She couldn’t imagine it really. There was nothing like performing in a huge ass room with thousands of people shouting the lyrics to your song back to you. 

As the second song came to end Gareth rushed up to Robin with a bottle of water. Eddie always stopped to talk for a moment between the second and third song. “Thanks,” she said before drinking as much as she could before handing it back to him. He rushed away to get ready. The fourth song was the first with keys on the setlist so he would be coming out soon. 

“Man, this place is packed. Did you know this is the first time we have sold this place out?” Eddie said into the microphone. Robin hit the drum a few times as the crowd cheered. “I mean completely sold out. Five thousand of you fuckers wanted to be in a room together to see us? Fucking wild. Chicago is always the best,” he took a step back as the crowd started screaming again. 

Jeff started the intro to the third song and Robin fell back into her rhythm. She looked over to the left to see Gareth entering the stage, taking his spot behind his keyboard. 

Robin looked back out to the crowd, searching the barricade. Off to the right of Eddie she could see Nancy. She was bouncing slightly, singing along to the song. Robin chuckled and shook her head slightly. Nancy Wheeler. She had always been full of surprises, even when they were younger. 

Gareth started playing which gave everyone a few seconds to drink water. Steve held a bottle out to Robin who chugged quickly then they were back at it. 

It was easy to lose herself in the performance. Throughout the songs she kept looking at Nancy who never missed a beat. She seemed to know every single one of their songs. Knowing this made Robin’s chest feel fuzzy in an affectionate way. Was Nancy actually a fan of their music or did she just listen because they had been friends? It made Robin feel guilty for not keeping up with her or knowing about her magazine sooner. Robin had always been good at staying in her bubble and it made her wonder what else she had missed. 

As they came to the end of another of Robin’s favorites, it was time for the song Nancy had said was hers. Which was also Robin’s. It took her awhile to get to be able to play drums good enough to have a solo. This song was the funnest for her to play but also it reminded her how rewarding all of her hard work was. Hours and hours of practicing most days and into the night to try and learn to play so quickly had paid off. 

They were exactly one verse away from finishing the song when Eddie stepped away from the microphone. Jeff and Lance also stepped a few paces back and Robin assumed they were either drinking water or taking shots. 

She glanced out at the crowd and saw Nancy staring at her with wide eyes. Others around her were jumping around and cheering but Nancy was almost statuelike. Robin grinned, making eye contact with her. She pounded against the drums quickly, always amazed with what she was able to do and how much energy it took to even do it. 

As the solo wrapped up and Eddie stepped back to the stage to finish the song Robin was still looking at Nancy. She was still unmoving, staring at Robin. Robin dipped her head slightly, hoping to convey the message ‘Yeah, that’s right, Wheeler. I know you’re impressed with me.’

Robin stepped off the platform and jogged toward the back of the stage where Steve waited with water. The current song had a long soft intro so she wouldn’t start until the middle. She drank the water gratefully before sticking her arms out to stretch them. “You crushed it, as usual.”

Robin laughed and nodded, “You should have seen Nancy’s face. She looked like she was frozen.”

Steve peeked around the curtain as if he could see her, “I’m glad she stayed. She tells me all the time how she loves the music but hasn’t been able to make coming work with her schedule.” 

“I never realized you kept in touch with her, honestly. I feel bad. If I had known what she was out there doing I could have been supporting her.”

Steve shrugged slightly, pulling the water from her hands. “You know now. It’s never too late to make up for lost time.”

Robin nodded in agreement before hurrying back to her spot. She missed no time in falling back into playing. 

They were almost done with the show and she always felt bittersweet at this moment. She had never been more herself than when playing a show. It was the one time of day when her worries seemed to fall away. When she was up here she could be whoever she wanted to be. The thought made her hear Steve’s words in her head from earlier, “Just be yourself.”

Then Nancy had said the same thing, “Just be yourself!” 

This was her being herself, at least now she was. Regret clouded her as she remembered the internal debate in the interview. She had wanted to be herself. She had wanted to tell Nancy about her being gay. That way it could be out. She had wanted to come out so her fans knew whos he truly was and so those who were going through what she was would maybe feel a little less alone. This was as close as she came to being who she knew she was. But.. How free would she feel if she could just say it? It wouldn’t feel like she was walking around with a constant secret. 

She had been so scared but for what? The people who mattered supported her. They loved her. It was herself she was unsure of. And why was that? She had known since she was young she was gay. 

Robin tried to shake her thoughts away as they finished the second to last song. The band hurried off stage together to have a minute before they came back from the encore. “I’m gonna tell her,” Robin said to Eddie as they stood behind the curtain. 

“Tell who what?” He raised an eyebrow, looking around to only see Steve and other crew members. 

“Nancy!” Robin said over the cheering. “I’m gonna tell her I’m gay. I’m going to have her put it in the article.”

Steve approached them with a look of surprise but Robin could see in his eyes that he was proud. “We’re gonna be home for two days. Nancy lives outside of Chicago. Find her after the show. Ask for a second chance tomorrow. She can wait to write the article after that and send it to print.”

“If this is what you want we support you, always,” Jeff said as he laid his hand on her shoulder. 

“Always,” Lance agreed. 

They closed around, even Steve and Gareth, to hug her tightly. “Gross, gross. You’re all sweaty, get off.” Robin said in an attempt to keep her emotions even. She wiped her eyes knowing they had brimmed with tears. “You’re going to make me ruin my eyeliner.”

“Time, go,” Steve directed them. They rushed the stage together, having little time to get to their spots to start playing. 

As the song was about to finish Eddie paused before the final chorus, “Thank you guys so much for an incredible night. You all are so fucking beautiful. We could never thank you enough or explain how much it means to be this close to home with such a turn out. Selling out a venue this big is not something we ever imagined we would do. I just want you to know that sometimes shit gets hard. Never give up. Always follow your dreams and you might just play a show for five thousand people. Also, also,” Eddie held up a hand before motioning behind himself, “Make some noise for our wonderful crew. Without them we couldn’t have pulled this off.” The crowd cheered and Robin clapped as well.

“Lastly, since we are so close to home. I would also like to say thank you to our friends for coming tonight. Dustin, Lucas and Nancy, we appreciate you guys and love you.”

More screams and cheers happened before Eddie fell back into song. 

Backstage Steve and Gareth waited for them, holding towels and water. Robin took a towel from Gareth and rubbed her forehead, “Thanks.”

“You guys killed it! That was so awesome!” Nancy said as she exited through a door with a security guy behind her. 

She hugged Eddie then Robin. Robin hugged her back, almost shocked before Nancy stepped back. This is probably the best show I’ve been to.”

“We try hard,” Lance said.

“It was incredible. I’m so glad I got to see it from the floor. I can’t wait to talk about your performance in the magazine.”

The guys started to shuffle around Nancy and Robin, heading back toward their locker rooms. “About the article,” Robin started. Nancy looked at her curiously but she continued, “I need to go over some things again. It might take awhile, are you busy tomorrow? We are home for two days.”

Nancy nodded quickly, “Yes of course! We can meet at Petey’s at one?” 

“That’s perfect. I’ll see you then?” 

“Okay!” 

“Great! I'm gonna go shower,” Robin laughed and waved at Nancy. She turned back to call out, “Thanks for coming!”

[cepetriwrites]

The Unexpected Second Life of Bree Tanner - Chapter 12

Read on AO3

Bree POV

The Cullens immediately vetoed the idea of me roadtripping to Nevada to visit my mother’s grave, after I had calmed down from my… not crying, I understood. I was still upset, but truth be told I wasn’t ready to trust myself around humans yet. Truthfully, if I had known Bella could stop me, I don’t think my gratitude would have kept me from killing her. And I didn’t feel a life debt to the rest of the humans. The Cullens didn’t eat people because it was wrong to kill other humans, it made them feel guilty. I don’t know how they managed to feel that way. Sometimes I would feel bad, hearing their screams, but I was so hungry all the time, nothing else mattered but trying to soothe the burning. I don’t even know if I actually liked the taste of blood, or if I liked how it soothed the pain.

A couple days had passed, when the kids were in school I spent most of my time trying to remember my mom. It’s like I had been drunk my whole life, everything felt hazy, Rosalie explained to me after I had a panic attack – at least I think it was, hard to tell when you don’t need to breathe – that if I focused on my memories, they would become clear again, and never fade. So that’s what I had been doing nearly every moment. Shifting through my memories, trying to remember everything, hoping it would help me piece together my mom.

Unfortunately there were a lot of bad memories too, sometimes I had to take breaks and I’d paint with Esme, or watch tv with Emmett, play a family board game. I wondered if it was worth all the pain it took, but my whole life I thought my mom had abandoned me, that my abusive father was the one who loved me, because at least he stayed. Eventually I figured I was just unlovable. But I had been wrong. My mom had cared about me. I had dug up a near-forgotten memories of pancakes in the morning, that we made together. I wanted to remember everything, because if I was wrong about my mom, maybe one day I would look back and realized other people had cared about me too. Despite what my dad used to say.

It did cause migraines, so I had decided to take a break and use the Cullen’s computer. I hadn’t gotten to use one much when I was human, of course the Cullens could afford the best. They kept reassuring me they could afford to fix anything I broke, that everyone had broken a lot of expensive stuff, but the idea of breaking this high tech computer with its Windows 95 system terrified me. I couldn’t bring myself to type on the keyboard so I would use a pencil when no one was looking. It made typing a lot slower.

“You don’t need to do that,” Rosalie said from the hallway, I dropped my pencil and nearly fell out of my chair. How does a vampire sneak up on another vampire?!

“I just… don’t want to break anything.”

Rosalie gave me a smile, “If it makes you feel better, what are you looking up?”

“Um,” I looked at the loading page for cinnamon sticks, I was in to deep to explain that. “just… learning how to use it.”

“Cool, do you want to go for a ride? I’ve upgraded the suspension on my baby and it rides like a dream, no humans.”

“Sure!” Driving in Rosalie’s car sounded fun, an opportunity Human Bree never would’ve gotten. Rose was the mechanic of the family, I had watched her do an oil change once, it felt weird seeing a supermodel covered in oil, but somehow she pulled it off.

Driving with the windows down, and the wind in our hair, I felt like a normal girl, I had bothered to ask how long we’d be out, it’s not like we had a curfew. She kept driving her convertible until we had to stop for gas. “Are we going back now?” I asked as she turned on to the road.

“Nope.” She said, putting her sunglasses back on.

I started to feel nervous, “Where are we going?”

“Nevada.”

“What!” I shouted, “Rosalie I can’t go to Nevada! Dr Carlisle and Esme said no!” I looked at her phone it had buzzed multiple times, when I had asked Rosalie said Emmett was messaging her and she’d answer later, then she had turned it off. “Rose… has Emmett been messaging you?”

“A couple times, but eventually the rest of the family figured out what was going on.”

I nervously gripped my seat belt, “We’re going to get in trouble! They found out! There’s a psychic in the family, why did you try to get away with this?”

“Try? I did, we’re too far away for them to get to us unless they get a flight, and even then, we’ll still reach our destination.”

“How did you even pull this off?”

“Because I’m smart and know things. Like that Alice sees everything, but can’t pay attention to everything, she’s only paying attention to if you cause trouble. Even if she doesn’t want to admit it, she’s also hyperfocused on throwing the best wedding and graduation party, and trying to see if the florist will get a cold, which means she’s slacking on watching you. I know that Edward can’t read your mind, and he’s too busy trying to spend every second with his precious girlfriend, and making sure her grades don’t drop because he’s trying to get her to start at one of the many colleges she’s applied too, and the ones he secretly applied to on her behalf. I knew that when Carlisle went to work, & Esme got roped into doing shopping with Alice in Seattle, that Jasper would be kept busy by Emmett and not even think about asking where we’re going. And I knew that I could drive for hours without Alice being the wiser as long as I didn’t think about where I was going.”

Never cross Rosalie Cullen, “What about us? We can’t go in the Sun and I don’t want to accidentally hurt someone.”

“That’s why I have the gloves and hats, you’re going to stay in the car. Besides you just ate and I can the news about your mom is making you much more empathetic, you’re not going to go hunting for anyone right now.”

“You were fearless as a human, weren’t you?” Rosalie replied by flashing her dazzlingly white teeth at me.

I didn’t know if Rosalie was right, but she sounded so confident, it was impossible to not believe her, so I turned up the radio and decided to enjoy the ride. Super massive black hole came blaring through, the wind was in my hair, I felt normal.

Almost twenty hours later we arrived at my hometown: Las Vegas, Nevada. The Sun was blazing in the sky, so Rosalie pulled over to a motel, she explained she had booked it in advance, and we hid out in a room with the curtains drawn tight. “This feels so risky,” I said as I relaxed on the spring mattress while Rosalie idly flipped through the tv channels.

Rosalie snorted, “You should ask Alice about her little ‘day trip’ to Italy, sometime. We’re the well-behaved ones of the family compared to her and Edward.”

“Really? But I’m the one who’s always thinking about eating people.”

Rosalie gave a sympathetic look, “Jasper has you beat still, we’ve had to move four times because of him, we try not to mention it. He always spirals into a depression after a slip up.”

The Cullens seemed so perfect to me, it was reassuring to hear they disowned their parents and sometimes accidentally ate a person. It made it easier for me to believe I could belong with them. “Hey Rose, if you brought me with spontaneously, how did you book the motel in advance?" I asked after a bit of silence.

“Oh, I had been planning to come down here, bringing you along was a last minute opportunity.” She didn’t have to explain why she would make a random trip out to the too sunny Las Vegas, I knew she was trying to help me learn more about my mom.

We laid there in comfortable silence for a few more hours, until Rosalie went to front office to attend to “some business”. When she returned, she had a white USPS box in her hands. I sat up, “What is that?”

Rosalie handed the box to me, “It’s um,” this was strange, I had never seen Rosalie nervous before. “It’s your mom.” My mouth hung open, “It’s why I came to Nevada. She didn’t have any next of kin left to claim her, so I had Emmett fake some paperwork and ship the remains to our motel.”

“Remains?”

“She was cremated,” Rosalie explained, “I hope that’s okay. This way you can always bring her with you.”

I slowly pulled out the plastic bag in the box. It was filled with gray dust, ashes, that used to be my mom. “HUMAN REMAINS” was stamped in bold letters, along with her name: Erica Tanner. I stared at the package for a long time, trying to understand how one person could end up being a few pounds of ashes. I ran my thumb over her name. “Hi Mommy.” If I could’ve cried a second time, I would’ve. Rosalie wrapped me in a hug until the sun went down.

The whole drive back, I kept my mother hugged tight to my chest. I was never going to let her go again.

[90frogsinatrenchcoat]

✴ 🎀 ~~~𝑀𝒶𝑔𝓃𝑜𝓁𝒾𝒶~~~ 🎀 ✴

'Magnolia:'

She wrote,

'An Open Love Letter to the Most Astounding, Deeply Astonishing, Brilliantly Philocalistic Woman I've Ever Known'

She paused, holding her hands painfully close to the keyboard of her laptop. She had only known her for 4 years. This seemed far from appropriate.. there was no occasion to prompt such a thing, nothing had happened in their lives to stir such emotion in her, and yet.. she found herself in quiescent serendipity as she typed this letter of adoration for a girl several months from her own age.

'There are 8 types of love. Historically, you are meant to learn these with several people, throughout your entire life. Yet, I find myself, so hopelessly enamored with you in a blazingly desperate platonic love in all its facets.

The first of the 8 loves, Philia, is Affectionate love; catalyzed by a bonding of the mind, reciprocated through deep conversation and support during hard times. You taught me this when my Parents divorced. When I needed a mother, you held me. When I cried over what I was losing, you held my hand. When no one would listen, you found me, and you looked me in the eye, and you told me that I was valid.

The second, is Pragma, Enduring Love; Enduring love, whose catalyst lies in the subconscious. Shown by creating long-lasting relationships with genuine effort. You stoked the small fire that was my heart till it was a burning blue flame and tended to it with everything you could spare.

The third love, Storge, Familiar Love; is Most often felt between a mother and child or childhood friends. I've only known you for 4 years- but those 4 years have been more constructive, and more familiar than any of my childhood ever was. I can recognize your voice, your hair, your eyes, your figure, all in mere seconds; your voice lights up my day and brings my rushing mess of a brain to a screeching halt.

The most important of the love you have taught me, however, is Philautia: Self Love. Through everything I have been through, through everything we have been through, you have taught me to be comfortable with my authentic self. Through years of pain and hardships, losses and pain, you have stayed so wonderfully true to who you are. And yet, you contribute that to me. And that is an honor I would never dream of accepting.

You say that I showed you how to be loud, how to take up space, how to be yourself.. and yet, I found that above all things in our friendship, the thing I envy most about you is your confidence. Every day you dress to impress yourself, not others. Despite your hardships, you smile. You always wear the bravest, most joyous smile. And the mere thought of providing you with that smile makes my heart pound violently in my chest, my eyes water and I feel a pang of guilt, guilt that I might not be good enough. You live in a storybook- a novel, where you find your way through the world. And I find myself to be a side character, the comedic relief that provides everyone with a laugh. The sidekick with big ideas but no clue what they're doing. And yet, whenever I say such things out loud, you silence my fears with the most amazing hug I've ever felt. You wrap your arms around me and tell me to be quiet. You tell me it's okay. You tell me I am my own person, my own main character.. it's just not my chapter yet.

So to Magnolia, the girl who taught me to be a woman when I had nothing but a broken heart and fragile mind, I thank you. And I wonder, alone in my heart, sleeping softly in the warmth of my now calm mind, if you would ever know the impact you have on me. If you would ever know how deeply I envy you, how desperately I plead with the universe to allow me to even begin to be like you. Every soft pastel princess has a deep green goblin companion.. and if I would have the privilege to be your sage green fairy friend, I would be happy. To see you be so happy, to see you falling in love, to see you finding yourself.. and to think that, had I not sat behind you that day during our freshman science class.. to think- although the thought terrifies me- that we might have never met.. I would give myself for you to be allowed to keep being you.

My last words to you, Magnolia, are this:

Keep being you. Keep being the prettiest girl in the world, in your golden gowns and bright makeup. And on the days you need rest, I will await you in your castle, holding a warm blanket and your favorite book, more than content to just be included in your story. You will always be the Prettiest Girl I've Ever Known. Inside and out.

She took in a deep breath, pressed save, and closed her laptop. She would never publish this letter. She knew the words she had just written would never be heard by another living soul. And though that pained her, she knew it was not her choice. Magnolia was her own person. Which meant she was her own person. And the time for thanks had not yet reared its head. So she put her laptop in her bag, zipped it up, grabbed her purse, and set out to find herself, guided by a Magnolia compass.

[jolselin]

the thing about the main cast of moonlight chicken is that while the show is nominally centered around jim you could also make six different shows focused on each of the characters (so the hypothetical jim show would be even more about jim and a bit less about, for example, li ming) and they would all be great and interesting. i've just been thinking that if i had been given just one additional episode of mlc i would love to see a fuller picture of alan and wen's relationship and how wen fell out of love and then i thought i would watch a show told entirely through wen's perspective and with more of his background and then of course i thought i would even more gladly watch the alan show with both his backstory and the continuation of his storyline past the end of the original show (the alangaipa spinoff we deserve) and then i thought we saw even less of gaipa, in a way, so that would also deserve more spotlight, and finally there's so much to know about heart from the keyboard in his room to him learning sign language (we have to assume all by himself?) and to him finding community among deaf/hard of hearing people of pattaya and then of course to his university adventures in rochester. and as for li ming well one just has to check the tag to see that like half the audience either would rather watch the li ming show or treats the original as the li ming show.

so mlc could really be any of these shows but instead it's kind of like a little bit of everything with the focus on jim but not as much as if it were mainly a jim show. the trade-off is that you actually get so many wonderful characters and stories coming together in one show and isn't that great

[iloveabunchofgames]

#JakeReviewsItch

Arigatou, Ningen-san!

by Michelle Ma

Price (US): Name your own price

Included In: Bundle for Racial Justice and Equality

Genre: Visual Novel

Pitch: Walk through town finding and petting funny animals. A short, bilingual picture book.

My expectations: Looks super cute. I don't see a single written word in any of the screenshots, and its style is completely unlike any other visual novel I've reviewed so far. I'm feeling good about this.

Review:

If you have a very young child and an iPad, download Arigatou, Ningen-san! right away. It’s going to be a huge hit in your house. For those of us who aren’t churning through a stack of picture books every night, the appeal will be limited.

A bird named Tori-san (“tori” is Japanese for bird) lands on your house and explains that animals around town need love and attention, setting off a linear journey to find five animals across three screens.

A snake named Hebi-san (go ahead and guess the Japanese word for snake) is hiding behind a not-at-all-subtly rustling plant. The other four animals aren’t hiding at all, which feels like a missed opportunity.

Once an animal is found, it must be squashed and stretched, with animations that are guaranteed to send any toddler into paroxysms of giggles. And that’s all there is to it.

The two-finger controls are built for a touchscreen. On a PC, this is emulated by holding Ctrl while clicking. It works, but it’s inelegant. The writing is cute enough, but it’s not the star of the show. The music and sound effects are fitting, but again, they’re not spectacular. It’s all about funny, squishy animals.

+ Cuuuute. + Funny! + Perfect for tiny kids who are just starting to take an interest that flat, glowing thing you always have in your hand. + Maybe 5-10 minutes from start to finish.

– The animal-squishing scenes take a little too long for my liking. You squish and squish and squish, and at some point—I could never quite figure out the trigger—the animal says, "Cool, that's enough," and the scene ends. – Little variety. How about some more hide and seek? What if all the animals didn't have the exact same request? – Unintuitive mouse and keyboard controls. The game refers to two-finger touchscreen operations as "zoom and pinch"—wouldn't it make more sense to map these actions to the mouse wheel or the right mouse button? Take it easy on the toddlers. – All text is displayed in both English and Japanese at all times. I love that it's bilingual; I'm confused by the execution. As an English speaker who is trying to learn Japanese, it's too complex for me. Most text boxes contain multiple sentences, so I have a hard time comparing the two languages. A furigana option would be helpful, as early readers like myself will likely find the some of the kanji impenetrable. Since there's no recorded speech, I must assume everything's meant to be read by mommy or daddy. If said parent is already fluent in two languages—these specific languages—they're probably capable of translating the writing on their own, leaving me to wonder why all text is displayed in both English and Japanese at all times.

🧡🧡🧡🤍🤍 Bottom Line: Arigatou, Ningen-san is free, it's cute, and the picture book crowd will flip for its funny animal squishing. By the way, have to looked up "ningen" yet? That one will catch you off guard.

#JakeReviewsItch is a series of daily game reviews. You can learn more here. You can also browse past reviews...

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[rabbit-dance]

Okay, this gives me All The Feels. For one, there's the Obvious feels because this is, simply put, beautiful. He can play again. The thing that makes him happiest. It's beautiful and I'm so glad his story has a happy ending and that we get to see it.

But this hits me extra hard because my story is similar. It's long, so it's below the cut.

So, I've been drawing my whole life, and I've apparently loved comics since before I could talk. My mom found one of my earliest drawings that wasn't a mass of scribbles on a page. I drew "panels", and in each of them were two different-colored blobs, my characters, with circles full of wavy lines and hash marks for word balloons above them. They were talking to each other, with the "words" appearing over one, and then the other in the next panel. My first comic. Apparently Tiny Rabbit was a comedic genius, because mom said that when I brought the comic to her I was laughing so hard I could barely walk. I couldn't speak much at that age, but she knew that I had, at least to myself, successfully written down a joke. Fast forward a bit, and I'm in college for animation. This was in 2000. It was a shiny new century, and technology in the field was racing forward at an almost alarming rate. I was right in the middle; old enough to learn traditional hand-drawn techniques, but young enough to be learning 3D animation and modeling with the latest programs and equipment. Best of both worlds!

It was wonderful but grueling, even in school. Remember the animator strikes that just happened? Yeah, that culture was taught. We were encouraged to draw with both hands so that if when the one hand gave out, you could pick up your pencil with the other and keep going. Only about 30% of students even made it through the animation program. Just like the industry, it was notorious for chewing people up and spitting them out.

But I'm stubborn as hell, and I did it.

This is where my story gets familiar. We've all heard this one. There's a promising young athlete, fresh out of college, who gets to do their thing professionally. They're doing okay. Not the head of the pack, but they definitely don't suck, and they're a favorite for advancement. Then they blow out their knee and their career is over before it's started. Oh, well. Them's the breaks, kid.

That was me with my hands. Carpal tunnel in both of my wrists. Potential permanent nerve damage. My fingers would sometimes lock up into little T-Rex claws like our pianist's up there. Pain that rivaled my migraines would shoot up my arm when I tried to grip a pen or hold a mouse. For a while I could hardly type. My doctors had never seen damage like mine in someone my age, especially with no other health problems that could affect it. They said that with surgery, the gods smiling on us, and if I was the best physical therapy patient ever, the best I could get was 70% function.

And that I could never be a professional artist again.

I felt like a fish that was just told I wasn't allowed to swim anymore. To say that I felt bad about it would be an understatement, but I couldn't wallow in it. Bills had to be paid, but what could I do? I have severe vertigo. I can't drive. My hands and wrists were toast, and I couldn't use a keyboard or reliably carry anything heavy.

My one grandpa had taught me metalwork growing up. Brazing, soldering, etc. I've always been a beader (Natives gonna bead, yo), I'd picked up chainmaille as a hobby, and I've always liked jewelry. So, I became a jeweler. I started with chainmaille, and over the years I expanded my tools and skills to get to silversmithing, engraving, etc. All that fancy jeweler stuff.

"But Rabbit," you ask, "Isn't that hard on the hands?"

A valid question! Turns out, how I hold my tools is different than how I hold my pencil. Even when I couldn't draw, I could still make jewelry. Eventually I got to where I could use my computer and such again, and I did start drawing, but only a little bit here and there. Doodles, really. They scratched the itch, but nothing more.

So, I built a nice little business as a jeweler selling at shows and festivals. My wife, kiddo and I were doing okay. I could manage a little bit of drawing every day; less than an hour, but it was something. I even made some coloring books and self-published them on Amazon. I said I was stubborn, remember?

Enter The Plague.

We all know that sucked for artists who rely on events to get by, so I'll spare you that part. What's important is that I, whilst doomscrolling (everyone's favorite quarantine activity), came upon a picture from 2002 that was shared on one of the Native pages on FB. It was taken outdoors, at night, at a college bonfire party. I was in it, along with about a dozen other people. I had been visiting family on the rez with my grandma, and my cousin invited me to the party.

What was a fun memory for me was quickly destroyed when I learned that I was the only person in the photo still alive. Everyone else had died from Covid.

Quick aside if you didn't know - The pandemic sucked for everyone, but it hit Indigenous folks HARD. Look it up if you want to be mad about something. It's awful.

Anyway, that made me take a long, hard look at my life and what I wanted out of it. I wanted to make a comic book. I'd always dreamed of it, and had even started several in high school and college, but I only got a few pages in before I quit. Life and my own insecurities got in the way. But now, with no shows to work towards in quarantine and an old flame burning again, I had plenty of time and nothing to lose. I had a story idea rattling in my head, too.

One about plague doctors.

So, I went back to have my hands looked at. I was going to make a comic book come Hell or high water, but I wanted to know where I stood, first. The doctors were amazed! The years of using all of the many different tools in my metalworking had strengthened my hands and wrists. I'd learned to take breaks, and how to do the right stretches. 95% functionality!

I was cleared to draw.

That was almost exactly three years and one month ago. I told myself then that I would start drawing on January 1st, 2021. To prepare, I started outlining, got Clip Studio Paint, dusted off the old Wacom, and decided to stream it to keep myself accountable.

I'm coming up on almost two years of drawing for hours every day I possibly can. I'm on Issue Five of the comic, and I'm working to get Issue Three ready for printing. I'm still excited about the story, and I get a rush every time a panel really comes together. Evie and the kiddo say they've never seen me happier, and I don't know how I could be.

As I watch this old man play with his bionic gloves, I look at the black drawing glove on my own hand, and smile.

I understand, João Carlos. I hope you play every day, for years to come.

Thanks to a pair of a bionic gloves, this 80-year-old classical pianist can finally play the piano again. The maestro, João Carlos Martins, had lost dexterity in his hands due to aging and health complications. His face at being able to play piano again says it all. 🎶

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[asoulofatlantis]

I forgot what the screenshot-button was while I was watching the cutscene at the start. But... well... it starts... uh... quite strong with that cutscene and then with the opening we get that epic music going on. WOAH! Atlus meant business with this one, didn't they? ^^'

Who is to say? I did not see much of it yet ^^'

W-Wait! You... want my name? My actual "me as the Player" and not the "me as the Protagonist" - Name? Huh.

(I am kind of Stuck on this screen now... there is no button for confirming it ^^' What a strange way to get stuck in a game so early on. Seriously tho... what else can I do not but push all buttons until it reacts?)

I had to do this with the Keyboard. Possible an issue because you also enter your name with the Keyboard and thus the Controller is disconnected for a moment? Anyway... this is still a confusing thing for me. But... it is also intriging.

Well thank the gods it is not a Final Fantasy XD I am kinda sick of those lately...

That is a hard question. In a sense... fantasy is just that. A fantasy. Something in our heads. HOWEVER you can do things with a fantasy. Write them down as book, make a movie out of it... or even a game. So it is not powerless, if you have what it takes to give it power.

We are quite philosophical here, huh? XD When I think, we start Persona 3 with a guy who gave zero fucks walking through puddles off blood, Persona 4 with just some random guy staying with his uncle in a boring town for a while because of his parents working abroad, and Persona 5 with a thief trying to escape a Casino... this is quite a different kind of start to a game. I have not played other Atlus games yes... so... are they always doing the beginnings of games in so many different and yet intriguing ways? XD (I which Falcom would learn from them how to make a strong opening for a game. I really thing this is one of their weakest points...)

I LOVE IT when games do that. There are people that just want to enjoy the story of a game and do not want much of a challenge when it comes to battles. Especially when you play a game for the first time. Back in the day, people like us were often ignored in games. (Trails in the Sky had the option normal or hard, not even easy, but in Cold Steel 3 you could chose from "very easy" to Nightmare. Gaming-Companies these days have understood that there are many different people with various different playstyles playing their games. And that is a great thing.

I remembered the Steam-Screenshot-Button. Which is very convenient for scenes on Auto-Text and cutscenes. Have to remember that for Trails in the future.

Anyway... I absolutely get that after the King was killed, the council has problems... but abondending the safety of their people in a situation like this is a huge mistake.

They are bandits, no wonder they support the Monster who killed that old King... (uh I mean the guys attacking us, not the guys in the picture...)

Seems like looking "normal" isn't a good thing in a game like this? Then again, with different colored eyes, can he really be called normal?

No idea why this book is so important, but we even saw it in the opening, so it has to be important enough for our protagonist to hold on top it, even when facing bandits.

Don't know who she is... but why didn't she do that earlier? ^^'

So... we fell... and appearantly survived but ended up all alone in the middle of some kind of desert. Just the boy and his little elf-friend. That is... a good start for sure ^^'

[kai-portfolio]

Rhythm Gaming - Taiko no Tatsujin

Taiko no Tatsujin is a rhythm game series created by Namco. The objective of the game is to power up the progress bar. Here’s a more in-depth explanation of the game for anyone that’s interested. Anyway, Players must beat the drum or press their keyboard in accordance to when the note lines up with the targeted circle at the start of the horizontal bar. It’s a rhythm game about accuracy, precision, and quick reflexes.

I started playing Taiko (web) when I was 18. I’ve been playing for two years now and to see my growth as a player happen in real time is extremely fascinating. I like to think that Taiko is a pretty good metaphor for getting through life.

At first, I was embarrassingly bad at the game. I could barely play any level on easy mode. I would fumble at the unfamiliarity of the game and my hands would cramp up mortifyingly quick. I had to keep glancing back to look at the target, and then my eyes would dread looking forward because the onslaught of the seemingly never-ending incoming barrage of notes would cause me to panic and I’d end up losing whatever rhythm I had built up.

However, the more I played and practiced, the easier it became. I started to get used to when to hit the key without having to glance at the target. I slowly moved up to playing on a higher difficulty and at higher speeds. I even learnt how to find custom songs to play so that the game became even more enjoyable. I’m confident enough to say that I’m a pretty advanced intermediate at playing taiko online. (I will not talk about the arcade version.)

Now that I can play levels that my 18 year old self couldn’t even fathom ever playing, I often look back at my earlier struggles with a sense of amusement—realizing they weren’t as difficult as I thought.

Just like life, at first, new things are hard. Doing something new, stepping outside your comfort zone, diving headfirst into something you’re curious about but never dared doing- it’s all so terrifying. You’ll keep looking back wondering if you made the right decision. And in today’s fast-paced society, everyday brings about a new challenge that has you wishing life had a real pause button. It can become overwhelming and overstimulating very quickly.

But just like Taiko, the more you play, the more you get used to it. There’s no shortcut to an easier life. You have to take it one day at a time, get pass one level and move to the next, and slowly as you become accustomed to the controls- everything becomes simpler. Maybe life doesn’t have a pause button. But just like Taiko, there are slower songs. Learning to take a break and rest is just as important as moving forward too. Mellowing out doesn’t mean falling behind.

Anyway, you gain new experiences, bask in the present, learn from your mistakes, and when you look back- it’s like all those hurdles and obstacles, everything that once made you break down and want to give up becomes but a thing of the past.

Maybe I’m not making much sense but the point is this: I see parallels in the growth I've experienced as a Taiko player and the growth I’ve gone through as an individual. I’m a very anxious person. New things and changes in routine scare me often, but I’m slowly starting to embrace it. I’m conditioning myself to open up better, to let in new opportunities and not be afraid of them. Maybe me playing Taiko doesn’t really have that significant of a role in this, but it has helped.