#who are essentially my Friends at this point anyway

[pseudophan]

nora can i just ask… WHAT was he thinking? how was that lie ever going to work when they were doing everything so publicly in 2009? sure you can delete stuff but he must have known it was still out there anyway right? isn’t it pointless to be like i didn’t watch his videos when he was commenting on the interactive adventures like his life depended on it ?? he was trying to convince people he just happened to be in manchester one day with a friend and he just saw phil ???? when we all saw you counting down the days to meeting each other online like WHAT

https://x.com/pinofdnp/status/1855973085771387187?s=46

tweet link (it's one of the infamous 'we met through a mutual friend' claims)

to be fair to them both, if the phandom wasn't as unhinged as it was (is) they could've gotten away with that lie. kind of. dan and phil are hardly pr experts but this isn't really too crazy a move, like yeah the people who know the truth will always know the truth but if you tell a lie enough times then in theory new fans, and people who just never looked into it, are gonna go with your version of events and not question it. the main issue for dan and phil specifically was that their fanbase was essentially built on and around speculation about their relationship and cataloguing any and all proof of it. new fans and casuals often believed the lie at first just because like, why wouldn't they, but the second they stepped foot into the phandom they obviously discovered the not-so-hidden truth, because you didn't have to be a shipper or be looking for Phan Proof in order to come across it, all you had to do is search dan and phil on literally any website with a prominent phannie presence

to their credit they seemed to realise it wasn't gonna work pretty quickly, they abandoned the 'mutual friend' story almost immediately it feels like. then they went with the 'yeah we met online but we met up to collaborate' angle but i kind of feel like they didn't go too hard on that one, probably because they had finally started to learn that Oh My God Say Less Please Say Less Always Say Less Stop Talking Jesus Christ. like by far the most damning part of the clip in the tweet is dan insisting on being like "a lot of people seem to think-" about the actual truth like girl why would you plant that idea in the heads of those who hadn't heard it before. just say you met through a mutual friend and move on like fbsdhjfbdjksf. also at that point they kinda didn't give a fuck anymore, by the time they gave that infamous editing tips interview in 2015 they had long since abandoned trying to convince anyone they didn't meet because dan was an amazingphil fan and desperately wanted to befriend him because of it. the only part they were trying to hide at that point i would say was the whole y'know, fucking and sucking of it all

this whole reply is way too rambly and idk if it makes sense but i guess my point is IF dan and phil had a more casual core viewerbase (and also didn't give up on the lie immediately. and dan was less blatantly defensive about it) they probably could have made it work in the long run, even with the amount of evidence against it. i would go as far as to say that if not every then at least nearly every single influencer/celebrity/public figure of any kind have readily available information about them out there that most people, even fans of theirs, don't know about literally just because they wouldn't think to search for it. like how often does a Major Scandal break about some celeb and some people in the comments are like yea this has been known since 2004 everyone just stopped talking about it, lmao. not that dnp being gay for each other is a scandal but you know what i mean

basically they started telling that lie just as their popularity skyrocketed and i guess the hope was that the massive influx of new people would allow them to rewrite history, but alas...

[averlym]

whshdfhfjf.,,,

[lacnunga]

No pressure to read it at all but here's a wee drabble about my ocs, specifically Perfidious ruining his own fucking life by telling Eustace what an asshole he's been their entire friendship

"Come in, come in, im glad to see you, Fideous," Byng said excitedly, practically grabbing my arm to pull me into his little room. It was a plain but cosy affair, unlike the stuffy little rooms aboard the Advantage which stank and putrified even with every gun hatch thrown open for air - here, the landlady at at least put pretty enough curtains on the windows and there was only a little built up dust along the edges of the floor. A pair of singlesticks had been thrown carelessly onto the narrow daybed, which was already mountainous with laundry, Roman tomes and octaves of poems and plays. Half the counterpane trailed on the floor and several half-drunk cups of tea gathered on sideboard and sea chest like girls at a party. Byng had thoroughly installed himself here.

My captain turned to me and beamed, his brown eyes glittering as the setting sun washed over him.

"What excellent timing you have; Mrs Battersea will have tea ready any moment now, and you must dine with me and we shall discuss my letter to Napier. Oh, do not look so perturbed," he laughed, having evidently seen some of my agitated state in my eyes, "all things good, I assure you."

Yes, I needed no assurance of it. I knew Byng would write only too enthusiastically of my time in his service, and it was here wherein lay the entirety of my problem. Had I never met this man I would not know myself to be one to dislike inner turmoil, for I don't make a habit of engaging in it. It was Byng who never knew when to leave well enough alone and when to leave an enemy an enemy without towing him into friendship. It had always been my curse to resent him near as much as love him.

"Please, take a seat."

I cast an eye about the room and found no available surface.

"...where, sir?" I jabbed.

"Oh! Well, you may throw down Cicero," Byng said, pronouncing the name with his usual hard 'c', "Lord knows he deserves it! Ha!"

I made a smile at his words, although not understanding the reference and not letting it bother me. He might have pressed Voltaire onto me, and Swift and Gay, but i draw the line at Romans. I took Cicero in my hands and set his papery corpse on a half-unrolled housewife; I had to restrain myself as always from following behind him and tidying up, lest I prove the jabs of my own wifeliness true and lose what has remained of my Machiavellian reputation. Although I suppose Byng had an excuse this time - at the thought, my eyes flickered guiltily to his half-wooden hand. It was clear that despite his period in the naval hospital, my captain was still struggling to change from his sinistral upbringing.

Still, it was not to critique his slovenliness that I had come to his room.

"Sir," I started, seating myself on the little space I had cleared of the footstool, "there was something....something I wanted to discuss."

"Please, you know I will always bend my ear to you, Fid," he said, before peering closer at me, "Why, your face-! Is it awful news?"

"No, I- that is-. Ah!" I did not want to look at his concerned expression. All the words had dried up in my mouth as soon as attempting to speak them; how ridiculous, to waste away the night with harrowed rehearsal only to find myself fish-jawed when it came to the opening performance. Me! He whom trouble followed in consequence of caustic wit, struck suddenly dumb!

And the longer I remained silent, the deeper the furrow between Byng's brows got.

"Is it...money?" He near whispered the last, afraid of offending some invisible etiquette teacher by mentioning finances so crudely.

I shook my head, my auburn hair flying about.

"Then I am at a loss," Byng declared, placing one hand on his hip, the other dangling unnaturally - his new asymmetry made that noxious cauldron of guilt and shame roil in my stomach, "but it cannot be as dreadful as you are putting on. Tell me all about it and we shall have the matter sorted by coffee, my friend."

"I have not been your friend," I blurted, clumsily.

There was a long pause, in which the clatter and shouting outside the boardhouse seemed to swell like a choir to fill it. For a moment I could not fathom how the entirety of my disclose was not obvious to him within those six words, forgetting that they had only consumed my reality by the throes of my own inner repetition. No, that my confession was still a secret was obvious, for instead of outraged, Byng looked only confused, and scratched at his moustache. The fine golden hairs that had escaped his pomade caught the low sun and blazed like beaten gold - my fancy saw him in that moment like the Archangel Michael with myself as always, cast as the devil himself.

"If you are still dwelling on my words about being abandoned on the hospital, I beg you to forget them. They were a bad joke and I ought to have known you would take them to heart. I understand how busy you have been," he said kindly.

I did not want his kindness. I had not wanted it at the beginning of our aquaintance and I did not want it now, when I must expose myself to him entirely. It would have suited me better if he was dismissive or pompous or selfish, but then, had he been any of those things, I would never have found myself in the position I was in.

Maybe it made it easier in the end, as his kindess irritated me and there is nothing better for loosening the tongue than irrational stress.

"We hoped you would die," I snapped, and with those savage words it was as though a damn, long rotten and straining over the years, broke within me and out came spilling a torrent of filthy, diseased water, "You often said our friendship began on the Courland expedition. It is true, I did recommend you for the negotiations to Gainsford, but not because I thought you would do well at it."

When Byng said nothing, I continued, "I don't know if you were even aware of my dislike of you. I hated all things you represented - priviledge, education, connexions. You had the impertience to be friendly and humble and forgiving and there was little I could not find a way to despise about you. Yes, I sent you off to the Governor and greatly you thanked me for that boon afterwards, but with sincerity I had done it with the presumtion that you would not come back."

It hurt to say these things to the man I now loved, but it was necessary. It was necessary - I had repeated as much to my pillow in the dark of the night - for him to know the depths of my depravity before he risked his reputation by recommending me to the Admiral on false understandings.

I was glad that it hurt.

When I risked a glance at him, Byng had gone very still and very pale. His good arm had dropped to his side.

"I see," he said woodenly. To hear his normally bonny voice so expressionless was near as debilitating as the sight of him clutching his mangled hand had been. "I...I suppose there have been queerer starts to friendships. It will be a funny thing to tell people at dinner parties, certainly." His chuckle sounded forced, "but it has been years-"

"That was not the end of it," I interrupted him. I had to dispell him of his good opinion of me, for my own honour as much as his.

"Oh?" Came the faint, reluctant question.

"Yes," I said. There was a heat building in me, like a fever reaching its climax and I believe in the moment it sent me to the very edge of madness, "I resented you your success - we all did, but I the most, for your fortune was my own doing and the praise of one so far my junior in rank but superior in society galled me to the extreme. For my own benefit, I pretended at friendship. I took your affection and betrayed it for years. Had it not been for my own sense of duty towards my superiors - I couldnt imagine where we would be now."

"You cannot be serious," Byng protested, and now he too sounded hot, "you are confused, Fidious. You've saved my life, twice over, three times if you would allow me to count Chatham!"

"My duty, as I said, sir."

"Then-, then you took me into your care when I was attacked," he pointed out triumphantly.

The memory of that winter night and Byng's staggering form bearing me dazedly to the pavement, blood running down his face, shot through my mind. A reminiscent shiver ran down my spine.

"You might have died," I pointed out, determined not to allow him to paint me as any kind of samaritan, "I may have betrayed your good opinion but I would not have allowed any man of woman to just pass in the street."

"You are making this very difficult, you know," Byng said crossly and I felt a familiar pang of satisfaction in making myself disagreeable, "there was no danger of me dying from the attention of the Duchess of Whitby, though. There was no need for your intervention but your rescue of me from matrimony when I asked it of you."

He seemed very assured of his victory there, but the shame threated to swallow me again at the reminder.

"I was glad to 'rescue' you; it was gratifying to me to deprive you of a greater fortune and a title in one fell swoop."

Byng's fine face fell.

"Tell me this is a joke," he said eventually. My words had begun to penetrate his rosy view of the world. I could feel my heart crack in tandem with his.

"I cannot," I replied, my voice wavering like a snotty's.

"I have asked you for counsel, and you have given it. I have told you my fears, and you have reassured me. I asked you to share in my joys, and you did."

"For my own benefit, sir." I swallowed the lump in my throat, "for my own advancement."

"...I introduced you to my sister."

"Yes," i whispered.

The dam had run dry. There were no more words. I had done what i had set out to; to destroy the bridge Byng had built between us over the years. As I watched, I saw the flesh fingers of his hands curl into fists, and his whole body strike up rigid. It was only those wooden fingers that sat slack and I did not miss the irony that in that moment, the only part of my captain's body not set against me was that which he had sacrificed to save my life. It was in that gory, mutilating moment that my love for him had flowered, belatedly, selfishly, only then had my eyes opened. How could I have visited him in recovery knowing, feeling now thoroughly, all those years I had plotted against him or accepted his friendship with ill feeling?

"I had been warned about you," Byng said quietly, face like procelain. "Lieutenants, midshipmen, seamen - even those Buffs you played the tables with; all seemed to have black words to say about you. But I dismissed them. Every one; I even got a little irate at some of them. My own honour felt besmirched that these people would cast aspersions on my closest friend in the world."

Each blow struck me like a sabre. Good. It was good that he make me bleed.

"Sir-" I began, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door and the impertinent entry of a white-capped maid.

She bobbed a curtesy.

"Mrs Battersea says to tell you tea's ready for you, sir - and to say there's enough for two if your friend is staying."

Byng did not take his eyes off of me.

"No. This man was just leaving."

Surely there was an ocean of blood lapping at my knees by now. It was good, and it was right, but like a drowning man taking one last breath before going under, it was instinct that moved my lips without knowing what my next words would be.

"Please-"

"I think, Mr Jones, that you have thoroughly obliterated your right to say 'please' to me, don't you?"

My last breath of air went out. Here were the consequences of my actions - Byng's blithe counternance one of stony betrayal, my commendation to the Admiral no doubt would find itself fuelling the fireplace, the hesitant understanding between myself and Lady Babington crumpling with the news of what I had done to her brother. Obliterated indeed.

"Then I will take my leave," I said. My words seemed to come from very far away to my own ears.

"Good day, sir," Byng dismissed me curtly, turning his back on me, halo fading with the approaching dusk.

"Good day."

And, with the maid looking between us askance, I left.

When later I received a summons from Napier concerning a glowing letter of commendation from his protege, I could never have felt worse.

[knightelf]

feeling complicated things this wednesday at 2pm

[blujayonthewing]

'wow I never would have guessed that melliwyk gets so strongly and instantly attracted to people for being clearly and overtly passionate about something, how funny' I say, as if her response to the warforged cleric with the life's mission of discovering lost and forgotten gods wasn't 'I've only had caretaker for five minutes but if anything happens to him I'm killing everyone in this room and myself'

[gaytobymeres]

writing an email in response to a very kind garden historian who has sent me so much information, and im paranoid that 1) i cant write well or clearly, 2) that im writing an email that is so long and boring, and 3) i just feel it might be unnessecary. or maybe im making unjust claims (except im not really claiming anything im just saying 'theres evidence that points to x instead of y') but ive never properly studied history or researched like this so i do feel a bit out of my depth

[allisonreader]

I find it so annoying at this point when I dream about my old childhood crush at this point. Like I don’t even want to go into details about the dream because it made me uncomfortable with what I had dreamt. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since we graduated. I don’t have him on any social media, but he still occasionally slips into my dreams. And it seems particularly after I’ve talked with my boyfriend that it happens.

[reginaofdoctorwho]

god really loves kicking a bitch while she's down huh?

[lustlovehart]

You Gotta Kiss The One

A/n: This isn’t my usually writing, so this is more short scenario rather than actual story, so sorry if it isn’t my best. Anyways, I was in need of some fluff for the twst men so here we are. (This came out a bit cheesy honestly) Also, unfortunately no Jamil because i went through 7 drafts for his part and hated absolutely all of them.

Pairing: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Vil, Idia, Malleus, Rollo x Reader

Summary: [Fluff] In a turn of events, it seems you’ve lost your voice, and it’s up to the one you love to give out the cure, a kiss from their lips to yours.

Warnings: Cheesy Fluff, Reader wasn’t meant to be Yuu but they’re friends with Grim so, 50% Yuu.

Unfortunately, making potions with Grim never goes right. One moment, you’re carefully adding in the newt that assists in projecting a beautiful singing voice to its recipient, and in the next your head gets shoved in the concoction. When you finally emerge, your throat attempts to sound out your criticisms of Grim's recklessness. But, your lips are the only thing that moves in motion, your voice not even croaking out a word.

“Why ain’t yah talkin'?” Your hands quickly grab onto the recipe book pointing at the bold disclaimer at the bottom of the page.

If the potion is consumed before the newt is added, it will have the opposite effects.

Before you can read the rest of the text, your companion snatches the book from your hands, reading the rest of it on his own. When Grim reads out the instructions, your eyes narrow when you hear a slight chuckle escape from him when he tells you your only solutions. It’s either never talk again or...

Of course, never talking again has its pros, but, if you don’t have your voice, however will you tell… Him, about your feelings…? Of course, you could just write your confession, but that doesn’t have quite the kick words spoken from your chest do—

"Uhh... seems you gotta kiss your little crush [Name]!"

…

"What."

Before you're allowed to interject, Grim is already reaching his paw up and taking you by the hand, not even allowing you to tell Crewel about your situation. You’re quite sure if you had just told him you could’ve avoided the whole dilemma. Alas, Grim’s very eager in bathing in your embarrassment.

—————

Riddle is fuming at Grim's carelessness, it’s already bad enough that you have no magic in this faraway land, but to be subjected to a potion that doesn’t have a real cure? That’s even worse. He most definitely beheads the feline after he hears about the situation, immediately sending him onto a time-off corner, prattling on about how he should’ve been listening to the rules and acting accordingly in class.

His lecture is cut short at the sound of scribbling, his head turning to look at you furiously writing down on a piece of paper. Your lips are straight-lined as you lift the words to his face.

“Grim said the cure is a kiss.”

Oh… his mouth opens to question you more about this so-called cure, though the heart shape you form with your hands, however, is all the information he needs. It’s unfortunate that it only works if you kiss whoever it is you “love”, he could’ve gotten away with kissing you under the guise of helping if it was just anyone who could kiss you—

Who’s he kidding his face is close to turning red at such a thought. Of course the cure is something so basic, true love. Ah, no not true love, just simply a crush. Yes, a crush.

A crush that can’t be him.

He stays composed externally but internally he can’t deny he’s a little disappointed, it doesn’t matter however, he’ll help you get this kiss from your mystery student, even if it hurts a little to watch. The sound of flipping paper attracts his attention once again.

“So kiss me. Please.”

… What…? What…?! What?!

His eyes widen at the words, his mouth agape at the statement, his skin quickly flushing at the thought. You. Him. You and him. Him and you.

He’s essentially frozen in place. But, the extremely quiet sound of a broken up “okay” signals to you his permission. The feeling of soft lips being placed on his own snapped him out of his trance. He blinks a few times at your face, a smile invading your mouth.

“Thanks Riddle.”

—————

Your hands are furiously shaking Leona's shoulders, despite your relentless attempts at awakening him from his slumber, he doesn't even tell you to stop.

He didn’t even show any signal of stirring when Grim practically shouts to you about getting that kiss from him to “fix yah up”. Didn’t show any sign when you threw one of his shoes at the cat either.

He might be dead, he’s pretty still, like a corpse… Nah, he’s just being a douche.

Carefully, you drop down to his level, your face smooshed into his mattress as you look at his sleeping face. He looks a lot more peaceful in his sleep, his face is less serious and a bit more softer. He does look like a prince from a fairytale when he’s asleep, actually, maybe more of a princess with how pretty he is.

If you had your voice, you’re sure there would be hushed chuckles leaving your throat as you take out your phone. Your fingers are quick to swipe open your camera, lifting the device to Leona's face. Your joy doesn’t last long though, as when you’re just about to take a picture, the sight of Leona stares back at you on your screen, the subdued expression he previously held replaced with his usual face.

“What do you think you’re doin?”

…He’s awake! You’re quick to open the notes app, ready to explain the whole thing to him, along with indirectly confessing your feelings, unfortunately. But, he seems to think differently, as your phone is swiftly snatched from your palms and placed on his nightstand. When you reach over to grab it, his arm pulls you back down, your head buried into his chest, essentially being used as a secondary pillow for him.

“That typing’s loud, i’m tryna sleep.” … and I’m trying to get my voice back.

No matter how much you struggle, he doesn’t let you go. After a few minutes of trying to get your phone back, you give up, becoming his human-sized plushie in your defeat. Maybe he’ll be in the mood when he’s awake. So, your eyes gradually shut themself, sleep taking you over as you wrap your arms around the lion next to you.

…

“Hey, quit talking in your sleep.”

“Hmm…? Oh sorry— Wait what…?!” His palm flies of your mouth as words get muffled in his skin.

Appears you missed the Leona Kingscholar, kissing you. That’s unfortunate.

—————

“Hmm…? You need my help yes? Well then just sign here and I’ll get you that kiss you need!” Azul slips the golden contract across the table, the con man smiling as you read through the fine print.

In the corner, you notice the extremely tiny text saying how you’ll be obligated to stand by his side for the next month and do whatever tasks he needed to be done from you.

You swiftly slide the paper back to him as your head vigorously shakes a firm “No”.

“Oh? Do my terms not satisfy you? Your situation sounds very similar to our princess from the Coral Sea, having to kiss her prince for her voice back. I wonder how you’ll get that princely kiss…” he shrugs his shoulders before sighing, grabbing a stack of papers along with a pen, waving you off before looking at the sales revenue from this week. “No matter, if you don’t need my help please exit, I am a busy man—“

Your hand slams on the surface of his desk, his pupils widening at the sudden outburst. He stays silent for a moment, the glimmer of his glasses covering your view of his eyes. If you had, you would’ve seen the slightest hint of longing in him.

“A very determined soul you are… I'll change your conditions if you want your voice back so bad.” His fingers snap, the old contract disintegrating as a new one forms in his hands. “No fine print, I’ll help you get your kiss, and you work for the Monstro lounge for 2 weeks. Just 2 weeks. Is that a deal?” You squint, looking to make sure there really is no fine print. When you’re assured there really is none, you take a pen from his gloved palm, writing your signature on the line.

“It’s a deal it seems, now, tell me who it is you have affections for, and I’ll make sure you get that kiss—-“The sudden pull of his collar stops him mid-sentence, your lips connecting to his own before pulling away.

He’s extremely flustered, his cheeks blushed, his hat lopsided, eyes the widest you've ever seen them. He did agree to get you that kiss, but… he truly wasn’t expecting you to kiss him…! Of all possible candidates at the school…

“Wha… I’m… Huh…!?”

You straighten your posture before rolling your sleeves up, “So when do I start Azul?”

—————

Your eyes watch Vil meticulously crush, stir, and drop different ingredients into the cauldron, each one changing the color of the liquid inside. To be honest, you’re a little disappointed he knows a cure, you’ll have to wait another time before really confessing to him. His well manicured fingers take the ladle into his hand, carefully pouring the bright drink into a bowl, handing it to you as his eyes await for you to drink it up.

When you do, you set the bowl down, ready to speak, but no sound comes out. Your eyes stare into his, confusion set in your irises.

“I thought you had a dry throat?” Oh, you shake your head, your index finger pointing toward the cauldron and signaling poorly acted-out explosions and screams. “So it was a failed potion?” You pause for a moment before remembering what unit you were on in class. “It was that singing potion wasn’t it?” He contemplates for a moment before grabbing a small vile on the shelf, a potion the was already premade.

He pops it open, ready to pour it down your throat, but before he does, he pulls it back, quickly replacing the concoction with his extremely soft lips the taste of something good invading your taste buds, you assume it to be his chapstick. He stills for a moment, letting your lips lock and exchange touches. When he releases, he doesn’t give you the chance to interject, making you chug the drink down your throat, some of it escaping the corner of your lips, his gloved thumb wiping it off your chin.

“Vi… Vil…? Why’d you do that…?”

“How did Grim tell you to lift it?” He backs away from you, putting the empty glass in the sink.

“He said I… Had to kiss someone I liked. Why?”

“That’s what he said? Huh, I see.” He takes out his own brand of chapstick, reapplying it to his lips. You stay leant on the shelf of the rooms, watching as Vil’s silhouette moves towards the door. “No reason. Now, I have to get back to filming. Take better care of your lips, [Name].” He’s already out the door by the time you work up the courage to say anything else.

As he walks in the hallway, the leather of his gloves clench. It seems Grim did correctly tell you the cure. It doesn’t matter though, whether it was his kiss or that potion that worked, all he cared about was getting you fixed. He’s an actor, he’s keen to notice the presentations of people around him. He was sure you liked him, and even Rook fed into such a delusion. But, there was always a gnawing feeling of not being fair enough to you. So just in case, if you never really did like him, he won’t know.

He’s a good actor, but even actors can’t lie to themself. He really hopes it was his lips that cured you and not that potion.

…

The next day, when Vil finishes applying his makeup, the door to his room is knocked on, albeit very quickly. By the time he finally opens it, nobody is found, only a gift basket filled with fruits and low-grade beauty care, well low grade to him. If his suspicions about who this came from are correct, he can’t blame them for not having enough money to afford proper skin care.

When he looks in, all he sees is a card with a small smiley face and a heart. But he already knows who his secret sender truly is.

—————

Your knocking on Idias door gets harder and harder with every strike. You know he’s in there, but chances are he’s too absorbed in a game to notice your frantic hits. You’re about to hit the wood one more time before the door swings open and your fist is only an inch away from his nose.

“I… I only heard you just now…”

You’ve been out there for 10 minutes.

“You didn’t text me beforehand like usual… Is… Is there something you need…?” He steps to the side allowing you in his room, immediately having you sit on his bed before shutting the entrance. You look around a moment before handing him the note you had pre-written on your phone.

“No voice. Cure is a kiss from person I like. I like you, Idia. Please kiss me.”

It isn’t exactly the confession you wished to give him, but by the time you were typing it, you had deleted so much of the text you originally had from embarrassment, and by the time you looked up, you were already at his door… and Ortho was beaming in excitement behind you, you couldn’t possibly disappoint him by just walking away again.

He essentially shortcircuits the moment he reads the words off the screen.

He doesn’t speak, not even a panicked screech. The only sign of embarrassment he shows you is the sight of his hair turning pink.

“Wha… Wha… What…?”

You expected that, so you lifted your finger, signaling him to scroll down.

“You don’t need to like me back, just kiss me and i’ll leave.”

“No no, If we were in like… like a game… that type of game… you would have… ughhh…. You would have my… affection bar… filled— not filled maybe like 110%… up…” he struggled to get the words out he didn’t even make eye contact with you once in his speech. But, you understand what he’s trying to say to you. “Nevermind, forget it…! Just find someone… someone else… you deserve like a prince of something…”

His posture is hunched over, and he’s quick to turn away from you. You’re sure if he was closer to the wall he would curl into the corner and attempt to hide from you.

You’re pretty sure he’s about to do just that, he’s already slowly making his way to the corner. He’s only narrowly stopped when he feels you tug on his sleeve, pulling his face into your own.

His mouth was slightly open from shock, so his razor sharp teeth poked you, but even then it was still a nice feeling. When you part, he stares at you for an entire minute. His hair was already pink, but somehow it must’ve gotten even pinker.

“You… You won the game…”

“Did I…? What does that mean…?”

“Forget I said that. I’m gonna die now”

—————

It’s been at least half an hour since you’ve met up with Malleus, and he seems to not have noticed you don’t have a voice to reply. But at the same time, it’s nice listening to him ramble on and on about his Gargoyle studies—

“You have not spoken.” Your head is quick to turn, your body slightly jolting at the sight of Malleus’s face mere inches away from your own. Sometimes, you forget he doesn’t have any sense of space. This point is further proven when he moves his face away but your shoulders are still in contact. “Why is that?”

Your hand reaches down to your side attempting to take out your phone, but, it only grasps air. You look back down into your pocket, not noticing any holes for it to fall out of.

What? Did… Did I loose it or something?!

“This thing…” your head flips back to the man in front of you, his gloved fingers turning the phone with narrowed eyes. “I don’t understand, why not just talk to me? Would you rather use this phone than converse with me…?” You can spot early signs of Malleus’s emotional turmoils. It doesn’t take long for you to see the hint of disappointment in his eyes at the mere notion of you not even wanting to talk to him.

Along with that, clouds are beggining to form in the sky

You immediately shake your head at him, your fingers pointing to your throat while forming an x. Though your movements are so quick from the sheer panic of lightning striking, he doesn’t understand what you’re doing until you slow down.

“Ah, you did talk about that potion unit didn’t you.” You nod your head, ready to perform a collection of poorly acted-out charades to showcase your cure. You only got as far as the heart in your hands before he interrupts. “If I remember correctly, the fix to that is a kiss from the one who holds your affections… is it not?” The boom of thunder increases at an incredible rate, and even the pout Malleus holds on his face gets more obvious. “Have you come here to ask for my aide?” You can tell, it’s very obvious he’s trying to hide his dispiritedness beside a veneer of support. “Then… I will help a dear… friend.”

At his words, you shake your head the hardest you’ve probably ever shaken it to disagree with someone. You’re sure you must’ve swayed your brain too hard, by the time you stop you honestly feel a little dizzy.

“Ah, do you not want my help?” The lightning in the air starts fading, but in exchange, it’s like the clouds have gotten darker. “Am I, not allowed the see the object of your desire?” You wish you just had your phone out from the beginning, it would’ve made things so much easier. You bring your arm up, pointing at him.

Malleus is smart, he needs it if he will be Briar Valley’s ruler. Yet, he’s a bit dense in terms of human emotions and relationships.

“I thought you didn’t want my help…?” You’re sure if you could make any sound, pure screams of frustration would’ve left you. “I’m left in confusion as to how it is I can help you. I want to assist you Child of man but, I don’t wish to see you kiss anyone else—“Your hands immediately take him by the tie, dragging him into you as your lips practically smash together. If anyone saw you, such a scene would be quite the scandal for the heir. Minutes go by when you finally release him, and when you look up, the sky is the clearest it's been for the past month. “So it was me.” The look in his eyes is fond, it’s a warm sight.

“Yeah, I can’t believe you didn’t notice sooner, I didn’t hide it…”

“You didn’t?”

“I confessed to you twice before this Malleus…”

—————

(This is self indulgent cuz i’m unfortunately a Rollo fan…)

Considering how far away Noble Bell is from Night Raven, you have no doubt you’d be stuck voiceless for quite awhile before you get to see Rollo again. Grim is just left to watch you sulk as your head falls in disappointment. You honestly don’t know how to tell Rollo about your situation either, you could always text him, but how do you even tell him you need to kiss him as your cure? Along with that… over text? That’s just pathetic. He’d probably shame you for being so ungraceful with your feeling towards him.

“Quit moppin’ and tell him already! I’m gettin' depressed just watchin’ ya…” with your head buried into your arms you can feel Grim practically shaking you out of your ball of shame with his tiny paws. “Come… on…! You’re not gonna get your voice back doin' nothin’!” He’s… unfortunately, completely correct.

With a soundless groan, you reach for your phone and open your contacts, drafting the text you’ll send to Rollo.

Rollo, I need to tell you something… your fingers continuing to vigorously type your paragraph.

Three knocks disperse your attention.

“[Name] are you there?” The familiar voice immediately strikes panic in your body as you accidentally throw your phone into the air, pathetically catching it as you stumble towards the door with a loud thud. On the other side, the door can be seen harshly shaking at an impact from within the room, Rollo glancing to each side of him in confusion. “Are you okay?” The lack of a reply makes worry bubble inside of him.

Before he’s given the chance to open the entrance himself, the door swings inward, allowing him to peak in through the crevice. He looks inside with initial confusion before hurriedly shuffling towards the room, the sight of your body on the floor making him even more puzzled with every passing second.

He lifts your upper body, having you sit face to face with him in such close proximity. Your eyes are dazed, looking directly into his eyes before looking around as if you didn’t even notice this was the genuine Rollo Flamme and not just a product of your imagination.

Damn you Grim… Leaving me as soon as you opened the door…

“Your room… is very disorderly [Name].” I was on the floor and you’re focused on how messy my room is? “I did tell you about how messy it was last time I was here too didn’t I?” I get it, I’m messy, so stop rubbing it in… A moment of silence passes before he quirks up an eyebrow, suspicions of his growing by the minute. “No witty comeback this time? Have you finally decided to start listening to me?” Your lack of reply Honestly worries him. Your eyes take a glance at your phone, making his tired face look over as well.

When he moves to grab it, he pauses his hand frozen in place. Your text is still displayed on your screen, as well as the current predicament you find yourself in. Realization hits you in waves as you quickly crawl over to snatch your phone from his palm. When you tried, his hand moves away in time to avoid your reach.

“It’s quite distasteful to admit such a thing through text.” I knew it… your head leans down, once more, in defeat. But, that's quickly changed when his nimble fingers take your face and lead them to his own. Honestly, it felt as if it lasted for eternity when in reality, the exchange only lasted for a couple of seconds. It was as if, Rollo finally felt the need to indulge himself in a little sin, only a little. When you finally separate, you're both left on the floor of your room, awkwardly glancing at the material.

“So… why’d you come here, Rollo? I thought after everything that happened at Fleur City you wouldn’t wanna come here again…”

“I do. I still don’t wanna be here.”

“Then why are you—“

“There’s a holiday at Noble Bell, we have a day off. I came to spend it with you.”

A/n: If anyone has like, any thoughts for the twst characters pls share them!! I may not be doing requests right now but I might write something short of you send in an ask!! Honestly, I just really enjoy when people ramble in my inbox. Also, I’m not too familar with writing Idia and Leona so i’m sorry if they weren’t written good!

[thoughtsfromataco]

It's funny, as I've gotten older, I've found that one way a girl can get on my bad side immediately is misandry

[educatedsimps]

— "ctrl+C, ctrl+V" sakusa kiyoomi

≪ back to fics masterlist

sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader

a/n: saw a fanart of chibi sakusa and this came to mind so i just had to write this out to get it out of my head 🫠 sorry if my writing's not perfect i wrote this in like an hour HAHAHDHDJSJSHD

cw: FLUFF, parenting au, atsumu being annoying

wc: 586

Kiyoomi had always expressed how much he wanted your kids to have your features - from your hair, your eyes, your smile, your laugh, he wanted them to inherit everything about you. He essentially wanted his kids to be mini clones of you, the person he loved and admired the most in the world.

However, when your first child was born, it was pretty clear that she'd take after her father. Immediately, you noticed birth marks at almost the exact same spot as her father, and as she grew older, her hair started to curl at the ends just like her father's. Unsurprisingly, they had similar personalities too. She was probably the most educated six year old when it came to personal and public hygiene.

And when Reina's little brother was born, you swore they could be twins. That is, if you ignored the eight year age gap between them. Akimitsu, like his sister, took after Kiyoomi. He had the same dark curly hair and sharp eyes as his father, but one difference between him and his sister was that he had a much more outgoing personality. Even at six months old, he was already smiling, laughing, pointing and waving at everyone he passes by.

Today was no different. Strapped to his father's chest, Akimitsu was excitedly pointing towards his older sister practising volleyball in front of him and babbling incoherently. Next to him, the one and only Miya Atsumu was seated on the bench watching his twin boys practice their volleyball skills with Reina. You watched as your husband fished out a pack of tissues and wiped away the drool on his baby's chin.

"Dude, what's up with your sets today? Even Reina can't spike your shit sets and she's a better spiker than me!" Ryūjin exclaimed, pointing accusingly at his brother.

"Shut yer trap, Ryū! Yer just jealous 'cause my sets are still better than yours!" Ryōta retorted. Turning to his friend, he apologised, "Sorry, Reina, I'll work on my sets."

Reina scrunched her face in slight annoyance but acknowledged her friend.

"Y'know, Omi-kun, yer daughter somehow looks even more like you when she does that," Atsumu chortled.

Confused, Kiyoomi looked up at the blonde setter. "Does what?"

"THAT!" Atsumu screeched, pointing at Kiyoomi's face, which was, of course, scrunched up like his daughter's. Kiyoomi hurriedly covered his son's ears at the sheer volume of Atsumu's outburst.

"Will ya keep it down? My kid's gonna go deaf at this rate," Kiyoomi huffed, glaring at Atsumu. The latter sheepishly apologised.

"But for real though, your kids are basically your clones," Atsumu continued, "Guess ya don't have to worry about 'em not bein' yours, right?"

That earned him a hard slap on the back of his head by both you and Kiyoomi.

"THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?" Atsumu cried, rubbing the back of his head to relieve the pain.

"Excuse me, sir, what are you insinuating?" You spouted, glaring at him. For all the years you had known him — since high school, to be exact —Atsumu had never failed to come up with the most insensitive lines.

"I'm just sayin'! It's cute that yer kids look so much like you!" Atsumu sulked.

"No shit they're mine, baka," Kiyoomi grumbled, the annoyed scrunch once again making an appearance on his face.

Hearing a fit of giggles, you all turned to Akimitsu who was pointing at Atsumu with a gummy smile on his face.

"Ba...Baka!"

The six month old happily clapped and cheered as Atsumu was left dumbfounded.

a/n: sakusa’s children would 100% inherit his curly hair YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE like it’s literally so cute. they’d have the same scrunched face when they’re annoyed AND IT'S FREAKING ADORABLE anyway i titled this one ctrl C ctrl V for obvious reasons HAHA

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarise any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[trollprincess]

So I have a friend from high school who is a cop. (Yes, I KNOW.) I shared a photo on Facebook of a packed highway of people attempting to evacuate from Hurricane Milton, all while the lanes going in the opposite direction were open and empty. And my Facebook post was basically me screaming, “Open the other side of the highway and reverse it so that people can GET OUT.”

His response was essentially, “Yeah, that is *really* difficult for us to do.” Not in a condescending way, because he genuinely isn’t a huge asshole. (Yes, I KNOW.)

And then I may have vented in my response, in which I tried not to imply that the police were a problem. Because to be honest, I don’t see this as a police problem. I see this as how we have fucked ourselves as a nation by making ourselves so dependent on cars.

There is that poll on this site – or multiple polls, at this point – asking how long people can tolerate being in their cars. And the thing is, Americans (and Canadians as well, I am imagining) have almost no other options. We have to be used to spending a good 12 hours in a car without breaking a sweat. Everything in this country is built around being in a car. There’s a reason when you ask us how far away a place is from somewhere else, we normally give that distance in hours and not miles.

Air travel sucks. It sucks for a multitude of reasons – cost, the hassle of dealing with security, the time suck, etc. – and in an emergency, only a select few are going to be able to use it to get away from a hurricane. And that’s one of the few disasters where air travel is an optional escape.

Train travel sucks. Amtrak is not something you’re gonna be complaining about if you’re trying to get away from whatever disaster you need to evacuate from. But next to so many other countries, Amtrak looks like we’ve been receiving other countries’s leftover railway systems from the 70s. It also doesn’t go everywhere. I live in northeastern Pennsylvania near Scranton, which prides itself on its history in the train industry. We have a museum and everything. We have multiple things named after that museum, including the Steamtown marathon which is happening tomorrow.

Can you get on a passenger train in Scranton? Nope.

(The main argument against this always seems to be that people will come here from New York City and commit crimes, which is hilarious considering if somebody wanted to come here from New York City and commit crimes it’s only a 2.5-hour drive.)

Anyway, disasters.

If the only option you’re gonna give most people to get out of areas of Florida that are being targeted by hurricanes or areas of California that suffer from wildfires or places in the Midwest that face flooding are cars, then we need a better fucking emergency management system regarding transportation in this country. You can’t just sit there and mock people for not evacuating because they can’t or won’t when getting away from Milton meant sitting on highway for hours with absolutely no gas stations whatsoever nearby having any gas at all. (It just makes me think of those photos of people stranded on the highway in their cars in blizzards where people are like, “Now imagine imagine how bad it would be if all of those cars were electric!“ Well, all of those cars in that photo in that blizzard run on gas and they’re fucking stranded, sooooooo.)

Look, we can change the transportation system in this country. we did it before and we can do it again. We used to have more train options, fewer highways. My small hometown had a fucking trolley in the 40s. Now, if you don’t have a car here, you’re stuck. You can’t even get Uber here. if a wildfire started here and surrounded the town, it would be a clusterfuck.

Regardless of how you feel about the police, if police and fire departments in this country cannot organize an evacuation on a highway in a way that will reduce the backup so that tens of thousands of people aren’t sitting in their cars when a hurricane hits, that’s a problem – not just for those people, but for the police, and the fire department, and emergency management in general.

The people in charge of emergency management are just people, just human. I’m researching the Camp Fire in 2018 right now, and you had a bunch of people calling 911 saying, “I can see a huge fire off to the east. Are we safe? Should we evacuate?” The 911 operators could only work off the information they had. They could have told people to evacuate earlier, but Cal Fire didn’t anticipate the strength of the fire. Which is understandable. Nobody could anticipate the strength of that fire. But the 911 operators were sitting in an office with no windows, and they had no idea what was going on the east. They couldn’t look out and see exactly what was happening. If they could have, they probably would have told people to leave as soon as possible much sooner than they were told to. Instead, they waited for official confirmation, and when they did start telling people to evacuate, traffic managed to back up in a small town of 25,000 people until many of them were trapped in an unimaginable hellscape.

When people need to evacuate from a disaster, and they stay instead, far too many people - including those in positions of power – just kind of wave their hands and say, “Well, we tried.” No, we didn’t. This country made not trying its watchword, and now we’re at a point where unless you own a car, which is a luxury a lot of people cannot afford in this economy, escaping from disaster is impossible. So you can get in your car or somebody else’s car and go sit on a highway and hope your gas doesn’t run out, since none of the gas stations for 100 miles have any gas to give you, or you can stay in your house and hope you don’t die.

Sometimes, I really wish somebody would make me the head of the department of transportation. I would demand an absurd amount of money to build a better train system, to provide better transportation options for smaller towns, to provide extensive training for rescue personnel in managing evacuations like the clusterfuck in Florida this week. I would become an absolute fucking nuisance to Congress. I would be asking for money left and right to make it so that our only options as Americans weren’t to get into cars we can barely afford these days and attempt to organize our own evacuations from the growing number of natural disasters in this country.

Y’all keep posting these polls about how long you can tolerate being in a car at the same time that tens of thousands of Floridians were sitting on highways trying to get away from Tampa so they wouldn’t die in a hurricane.

We can tolerate being in a car all goddamn day. It’s because we don’t have a fucking choice, even when it’s life or death.

[laikabu]

i hate that i have to clarify that what i’m about to write is not a ship post, i am capable of enjoying two characters relationship as very good friends and not only a romantic relationship despite my handle. but anyway.

people who hate laios/kabru so much they start ignoring the fact he essentially becomes laios’s best friend along with marcille by the end of the manga are kinda funny. you know you don’t have to ship them to acknowledge they become very close buddies right. kabru has his Red best friends(rin and laios), while laios has his Blue best friends(marcille and kabru)

even before they become close, kabru just has unwavering faith for him even if he didn’t entirely trust him. there’s about two times he says “i’ll leave it all to you, laios!” verbatim.

then kabru stays behind to help them finish what remains of faligon long after his party leaves. he’s weaved himself into the party so much, he’s included in a couple of touden party sketches and some that don’t even include namari or toshiro. he enjoys planning laios’s meetings that he has sparkles in his eyes. he gets legitimately upset when laios suggests something stupid to his corpse after he dies. he thought laios was testing him when laios asked if he could stay by his side(because he was already doing it!!)

laios provides a safe environment for him to do something he loves and highly values his opinions, and in turn he makes laios not feel stupid. claiming that laios is his bumbling pawn or hes gonna leave melini for whatever reason is essentially AU fan fiction disguised as meta posts. how can you claim to be a fan of him and… not even trust his intentions? laios even tells marcille that kabru makes for a better king than he does, so i imagine it was brought up at some point and kabru was very against the idea.

as much as i think the conniving vizier jokes were mildly funny until it got old, he is really just a good person who believes in laios’ abilities as a ruler. even if he has to whisper a bajillion cheat codes to him most of the time.

[shellxrls]

i need to be sarah’s cutesy sabrina carpenter espresso baby best friend who fucks her on the dl and also fucking her brother🤫

a/n: anon u ate with this ask cuz i love this song soo much, and i loveee the idea of rafe being beyond pussy whipped all for his gf to be more in love w his sister than him.

warnings: male receiving oral (mxf), cum swallowing, female receiving oral (fxf), cheating, NO INCEST at all they fuck at completely separate times.

🍒🍒 🍒

you’d often find yourself one of two places on the daily, ironically they were both situated in the same house: laying prey to the skilled fingers of sarah cameron in a fuzzy orgasm-drunk haze, or clinging all cutesy onto rafe cameron’s arm as he works away in his office — maybe sucking his dick under the desk if you were painfully eager.

at current moment, you were coddled next to rafe, pointing at an assortment of glittery bags on your phone screen and singling out the ones you wanted the most — or rather, the ones you didn’t want, considering the order you were about to place was essentially the bulk of the entire website.

“rafee, card please,” you tap him on the shoulder and urge him to rummage through his wallet, pulling out a black card before handing it to you and briefly glancing at your cart as you completed the transaction.

“gonna return the favour for me baby?” he mutters distractedly, eyeing some documents but letting his left hand wander to your thigh.

“course rafe, just wish you weren’t working all the time,” you pout, dragging his hand further into the crease of your thighs and rocking slightly on the chair, “otherwise i could return it now.”

he stills, dropping his pen and rubbing out a crease on his forehead with his free hand before turning to you, “mhm, under the desk princess, i can take a quick break.”

you beam, having successfully captured his attention, and crawl beneath him to begin unzipping his work slacks.

eager-mouthed you attempt to swallow him entirely on your first suck, lubing his entire shaft as tendrils of saliva dripped from your open mouth all the way down to his balls, stringing messily.

“fuck that’s good, now what do you say?”

“thank you rafe,” you force out through your stuffed mouth, eyes glimmering up at him in cat-like excitement while he looked down on you with nothing short of hypnotism, eyes glazed over with want.

it’s not long before he’s cumming down you’re throat in spurts, fisting your hair to force your head down further and making you swallow it so his office isn’t left messy.

he taps your cheek once he finishes, murmuring something about how good you did before quickly being reoccupied with his documents, sending you out with a firm slap on your ass lest you distract him any further.

you find yourself easily wondering into sarah’s bedroom, not bothering to knock and diving straight down onto her bed next to her, “was rafe boring you?” she questions with an edge of sarcasm.

you swallow, slightly guilty considering you did come in here to get release after sucking rafe off left you painfully wet, “something like that,” you trail off for a second before redirecting the conversation, “and anyways, i just missed you, haven’t seen my girl in a while.”

she smiles at that, leaning over you and pushing you into the bed frame with a kiss, her lips were always much sweeter than rafe’s, you’d always end up borderline inhaling off the flavoured chapstick she so regularly applies.

“missed you too,” she grins against your mouth, wasting no time in swiftly removing her shirt, then yours too.

kissing down your clavicle, she grabs the buckle of your jeans and pulls you onto her, humping you slightly against her leg.

you keen into the air, clinging onto one of her hands and bucking you body back into her, “shit sarah.”

she laughs lightly, the sound creating a hum against your pelvis while she works off your pants and leaves you naked underneath her, pussy glistening in her face

“you really did miss me huh?” she bites her lip almost awestruck and meets eyes with you before nudging her nose into your clit, cashing the nerves to twitch against her face.

she laps at your soaking entrance slowly, nose bumping your clit with every lick and making you squirm underneath her, your stomach pulsing in drawn out pleasure.

“mmh please sare — more,” you whimper, pushing your hips outward and forcing her face in deeper, tongue probing at your hole while she introduces two fingers to your clit in tight circles.

she tongue fucks you for a while before moving back onto your clit, sucking on the nerves and redirecting her two fingers inside of you, curling aggressively while you mewled and your whole body tensed up.

when you finally cum she eagerly mouths it all, rising from between your legs hot in the face with her mouth and chin all dampened due to slick.

you giggle looking down at her, pulling on the strap of her bra so she could meet you with a kiss, all the while thinking about how pissed rafe would be if he ever found out.

🍒🍒 🍒

[writingwithfolklore]

Punctuation Rules

Punctuation is like the very last thing I actively think about when writing something (what's the point of fixing the punctuation of a sentence you'll end up taking out or editing anyway?) but it is still an important step!

Having proper punctuation increases your credibility and the overall quality of your work. Also, it’s doubly important in professional work, emails, and resumes. With that, let’s get into it!

Commas

We use them all the time. We get them wrong all the time. There are six rules for where you can use commas:

Use to separate items in a list or series:

The book was long, tedious, and painful.

The comma after tedious is called the Oxford’s comma. Feel free to debate if you need it in the reblogs, but you won’t get in trouble professionally if you use it or leave it out (in most cases.) It always comes before ‘and’ in a list to prevent confusion of the items:

I ran into my mother, my best friend and a scientist. (1 person?)

Is very different from

I ran into my mother, my best friend, and a scientist. (3 people)

2. Use to separate independent clauses, with a coordinating conjunction.

An independent clause is just a sentence that makes sense on its own.

A coordinating conjunction is: and, but, or so.

Miley had a ton of work to do, so she set her alarm early.

3. Use after an introductory statement.

Introductory statements begin with many different words, but typically: Before, after, when, while, as soon as, etc.

Before her first class, Stacy looked up her prof on Rate Your Teacher.

Main point about this, “Before her first class” is not an independent clause, it needs a second part.

4. Use to surround info in a sentence

This info is not essential to the sense-making of the sentence, but it should be relevant.

Parents, no matter how skilled, cannot function at 100% all the time.

5. Addresses and Dates

6. And with direct quotes

Important for essay writing.

Casey said, “I hate this house!”

Colons:

Introduce a list after a complete sentence:

I have three favourite foods: spaghetti, chowder, and garlic bread.

2. Use after ‘the following’ or ‘as follows’

Please provide the following information: your date of birth, full name, and address.

3. Don't use with sentence fragments

A sentence fragment is an unfinished sentence (that doesn’t make sense on its own).

My favourite foods are: spaghetti, chowder, and garlic bread.

This is wrong because, “My favourite foods are.” Isn’t an independent clause.

4. Introduce an explanation

My parents ask one thing of me: that I try my hardest.

5. Introduce a quotation

Mom always quoted the bible: “The truth will set you free.”

6. And times (12:00)

Semi-Colon:

Not super common, but makes you look good if you can use it properly.

Separate two related independent clauses

I never drink Starbucks; it tastes burnt.

2. Similar, but with conjunctions: however, moreover, therefore, nevertheless, etc.

I don’t like Starbucks; however, it does the job.

Agatha didn’t witness anything; nevertheless, she was called in to court.

3. Use to avoid misreading in a series

The invited guests are the club leader; the treasurer; the new member, Jason Tanner; and Wanda Johnson, the investor.

Semicolons clarify the separation between the four people. Had it been, “The club leader, the treasurer, The new member, Jason Tanner…” it would seem that the new member and Jason Tanner are two different people.

Apostrophes – Possessive

‘s shows possession of a singular noun

The girl’s parents were quite rich.

2. S’ shows possession of a plural noun

The students’ books were all over the place. (there are multiple students who have books)

3. ‘s to singular words ending in s, and nouns that are plural

My boss’s office My children’s toys

Apostrophes – Contractions

Use to combine two words (they are, he is, there is, etc.)

It is -> It’s a beautiful park They are -> They’re really good friends You are -> you’re good at this and so on.

[linkspooky]

It's not just the way every villain dies it's the mean-spiritedness of each death. Kurogiri begs AFO to give Shigaraki back so he could return to the league and Bakugo just blows him up and no one reacts including his two closest friends who are sitting right there. Shigaraki turns into dust after it's revealed to him that he was manipulated his whole life into becoming what he is and that's somehow not even enough to warrant sympathy from our all-loving protagonist Deku who hits the conclusion that euthanizing Shigaraki was saving him. Himiko Toga essentially commits suicide because the answer to the question if heroes will save even bad victims like her is no she still has to go to prison. She never receives any comfort or atonement for Hawks who murdered her best friend, nor does Uraraka acknowledge that action was wrong. Spinner gave his all to the point of literally destroying his mind to try to save Shigaraki and Shigaraki just dies. Twice gave his life to save the league and was even stabbed by Hawks someone he empathized with and thought was a friend only to be taken advantage of and his sacrifice was completely pointless because the league all died miserable anyway. Not a single member of the Todoroki besides Shoto (my boy did nothing wrong) lifted a finger to help Toya until the last possible minute and now he gets to die a slow agonizing death on life support.

You can kill characters off but like why did Horikoshi have to completely dehumanize them? If death is supposed to be "saving" these villains by giving them release from their suffering in life why is every death as fucking miserable as possible to make each character like 'they suffered their entire lives and then thy died'. What purpose did it serve besides pandering to a part of your audience that was committed to not caring for your themes of sympathizing with the villains and saving the villains in the first place no matter how much you tried bending over backwards to satisfy them.