#I'm not going to stop making games or being a part of this community

[hummingbird-games]

this sounds extremely fatalistic and especially insane to say during BHM from yours truly, but I'm spiraling and looking at data and the state of the world (& my country specifically) and the stories I want to tell and the people who stories are centered and...

I don't think I ever want to charge money for my games. ever. they'll be free for the unforeseen future because I'm not tanking my health further by stressing out over what hateful, racist, insane players think. I'm already catching strays from trying to have f!MC protagonists??? can you unpack why that makes you wanna lash out and be nasty?? but preferably with someone else that's not me.

people talk such a big game about diversity and being inclusive and listening to Black voices and then turn around do the exact opposite. every single time.

ugh, I have a queued post going up...tomorrow?? that's a reblog from last year, but a warning: I was a very different person with a very different well of energy when I wrote it and when I scheduled that reblog.

[mantisgodsdomain]

We ought to write more Pokemon fic some time. We want to recreate the Pokemon Manners/Human Manners cheat sheet that we made a few years ago we think that this site would like the Sliding Scale Of Politeness When Greeting A New Pokemon You've Never Met Before.

[eldragon-x]

Let me ask you a question, Light.

What it is, Ryuzaki?

I've been wondering: Who is your favorite Pokemon Mystery Dungeon character?

...I see what your game is, L. Deducing the probability of me being Kira based on my answer. Not bad, but I'm already ten steps ahead of you.

If I tell him my favorite character is Dusknoir, it's obviously going to link me to Kira. Not only is he a cunning, detective-like figure chasing after himself, but he is part of a species of grim reapers which can be connected to the shinigami.

But,

It would be befitting Light to pick Dusknoir since in the expanded story of Explorers of Sky, he grew willing to take great risks in order to make the world into a better and safer place. And even before his redemption arc, he is shown to be genuinely concerned about fellow Pokemon who are in immediate danger.

Of course, he could always play it safe and say Grovyle, who is a well-written and widely beloved character in the community. Not to mention a true seeker of justice.

No, it's too obvious. I have no choice. I'll just be outright. He can't possibly connect my liking for Dusknoir to Kira if I just present the facts.

I think my favorite would have to be Dusknoir! His development in Special Episode 5 was a fascinating choice and made me appreciate his character as a whole.

I see. I'm personally rather fond of Celebi.

!?

What the hell... Who would care about Celebi? Is this a threat? She is one of the characters who contributes to foiling Dusknoir's plans... Is he that confident in his ability to stop Kira? What is your angle, L...

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon!? I love these games! My favorite is Munna!

!

Misa, what are you doing?! Munna seeks to rid the world of rotten Pokemon! You're blatantly making a connection to Kira!

Besides, Gates to Infinity is hardly worth of the Mystery Dungeon title... It's naive message about trying to better the world just through hope... I suppose it is just like Misa to like this game.

Still! Munna is an incredibly incriminating choice. Dammit, Misa...

Ahehehehe... Wigglytuff.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Spooktober Prompts Masterlist 2023

"They are calling us��" "Don't listen to them. Do you hear me? Don't listen to a word they promise you!"

The cameras show five people enter an elevator, but only four of them leaving it. Those four never remembered a fifth passenger.

"Aww, are you so afraid of the dark that you need me to hold your hand?" "I'm not holding your hand." "Then whose..."

At first, they believe it to be a bad joke, but when more and more graves of people who haven't died yet appear in the graveyard, they start to panic.

The camera she bought at a flea market already has photos on it. Since the people are wearing clothes from centuries ago, they believe them to be from a play. But they soon realize that those photos and events were real.

A child actress turned cult leader feels her power slipping and she needs to gain control over her following again.

When they started building the new school, they had expected to maybe find unexploded WWII bombs, but what they found instead was nothing they could have expected.

She heard footsteps behind her coming closer, but when she turned around, holding her breath, she could only see the dark and empty alley.

"Why did you choose the cemetary as our meeting place for tonight?" "Because only the dead can keep our secrets."

Going to your own funeral and see who would cry - it sounded almost fun. If it wasn’t for the fact that they could hear and see everything, but could not make a sound to stop them from closing up the grave around them.

A medium without a voice of her own, can only speak when a ghost speaks through her.

They had always felt that shadows seemed to beckon to them. But this time, when the shadows beckoned, they wore a sinister grin. (Submitted by: tumblebumblebee-63)

"I'm not haunting a filthy public bathroom, I'm a ghost with class."

A fun survival game TV show on a remote island becomes a reality when one contestant after the other turns up brutally killed. Right in front of hundreds of cameras and millions of watchful eyes.

Waking up to a child that you've never seen before, but that everyone assures you is your own that you've raised for years, is terrifying.

"Did you see that?" "Did I see what?" "That man... he touched the leaves and they immediately blackened and fell off. Please, let us go back before he sees us!" "Too late." The man in the dark cloak suddenly stood right in front of them and slowly reached out his hands to them.

What started as a fun midnight activity suddenly turned into one of them missing and the others running for their lives, trying to escape freaking zombies.

He always dreamed about being in a kdrama. He didn't imagine it to have a horror side plotline that feels way too real.

They said that when you die, you return to earth as your one true self. Why then, when he opened his eyes after being killed, were his teeth long and he hungered for blood? (Submitted by: ouilah)

She didn't think it would come to this point. She felt the cold stone of the gravestone in her back and before her the red glowing eyes of the creature crept slowly closer.

There are perks of being a ghost. Walking through walls was fun. Or haunting annoying people. But nothing was quite as nice as being able to just fade out of a conversation that you didn’t want to be a part of.

"I dare you! Come on, stop being a coward. There is no such thing as ghosts."

Someone wakes up to a text saying 'It's your lucky day!' and it turns out to be the worst day ever.

A family of vampires that lives unidentified in human communities, becomes paranoid and starts to believe all their neighbors are also supernatural creatures.

There are stories and superstitions abound about the seaside bluffs, but that's to be expected in a town of fishermen. One night, from the bluffs' direction, you hear someone singing, softly. (Submitted by: someoneoffthestreet)

Astronauts coming back to earth keep talking about hearing songs from outside the space shuttle. What they don't say, is that those songs followed them home.

Someone stared at her through the window. She had always felt safe in her own home, shutting out the scary, real world. But a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily…

A plane disappears from the radar and then reappears multiple hours later at the exact same location in the middle of the ocean with no place to land and not enough fuel to just fly around for hours.

"We shouldn't enter! This place was abandoned for a reason!" "Come on, don't be a coward. We will be the only ones here!" "Okay, okay... I'll follow you. You don't have to push me!" "I... I didn't push you..."

A session of reading tea leaves ends in chaos when every single participant reveals a bad omen.

Something tells the home owner that the kids trick-or-treating in front of his house are not wearing costumes - and are not human at all.

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[tomatopers]

about the hoyoverse boycott

i just wanted to put my two cents out there, as a South Asian:

We knew, from before anything was out, that Natlan would lack skin tone diversity at bare minimum, so it came as no surprise when these characters showed up; To preface my post, this does not make what happened and what's happening okay.

Why are people mad? Obviously, the skin tones are a big part of it. Yes, lightskinned people exist and live, etc, in these cultures- no, they do not make up 100% of them. What Hoyoverse is doing in Natlan is blatantly profiting off of poc cultures/religion in a disrespectful manner, and they have [once again] failed to acknowledge this. A really obvious example of this is the character "Ororon." I am no expert in Olorun, but as many have said, this character is meant to be based off of the deity.

This is awful- there are NO similarities, "Ororon" looks like my gacha life oc from seventh grade, and the disrespect towards the Yoruba people is insane.

As a twitter user whose tag I forgot mentioned, the majority of the Natlan Characters shown so far have been lighter than Lois Griffin [Family Guy].

Onto the boycott itself- If you are going to boycott Genshin, I recommend also boycotting other Hoyoverse games- being f2p isn't hard either, if you do not want to stop playing completely.

Additionally, I will link a petition to the bottom of this post, as well as some other things you can do to protest this.

I do wish I could have seen more of my and my family's culture in Sumeru, and that this backlash could have also occurred there, but in my honest opinion they did worse with Natlan and I'm glad we as a community are choosing to do something about it.

As a closing piece, I would like to point out the frequency of darker skintones in npcs, specifically enemies; The aggressive POC stereotype is both harmful and obviously incorrect, and people like me do not exist just to be placed constantly in secondary/antagonistic roles. Thanks.

Petition: https://www.change.org/p/stop-cultural-appropriation-and-whitewashing-in-mihoyo-games

Twitter posts about sending a feedback email [and template]: https://x.com/alsoknownasaki/status/1542216133734010881

Update bc I did not research ahead of this like a loser: Sumeru is not any better than Natlan actually!!!! Found out Nahida/Kusanali is likely based off of the Persian goddess Nahid and/or the Hindu goddess Saraswati! Sorry 😭

[gb-patch]

Sorry to send another ask amongst the sea I'm sure you're receiving, but I find myself more concerned about Rose being a sensitivity reader as I find more information. One of Rose's friends continues to insist that the conversation about Tamarack and male MCs was part of a larger discussion about biphobia in the fandom. However, they claim that Rose's position is "people erase Tam's bi/pansexuality by refusing to portray [her] as being attracted to anything other than men." This explanation of Rose's belief is, in-and-of-itself, biphobic. It claims that portraying Tamarack as attracted to men erases her queerness. This is textbook biphobia and bi-erasure that I as a bisexual encounter every day. It is NOT a good-faith defense of a queer character. It reduces us down to our partners and makes the claim that if we end up in a relationship that's "straight-passing," we're erasing our queerness. Especially as a bi sapphic myself, it reduces my identity strictly to the perceived-man I'm dating, and not my inner or previous experiences, or those of my partner. It's very uncomfortable that Rose, a non-bisexual, was discussing this like they're defending Tamarack's queerness when they're doing the opposite.

This is a doubly strange position when Our Life is a game about the acceptance of love in all its forms. The conversation could be different, MAYBE, if Our Life was a TV show or a book or a comic. But this is a game where people are meant to play as characters of their own design. I do not feel confident about Rose being a sensitivity reader for a game with bi/pansexual love interests if these are their beliefs about bi/pansexuality, particularly if they're unable to adapt their opinions to be relevant to different formats of media; this shows they're lacking in skill in the areas of media literacy and critical thinking.

I’ve been trying to make a post that presents the concerns people have about this, but your ask touches on the points I was going to, and I’d say it’s better to have it said by a player than me deciding what people are thinking. So, this is something that I want to make clear- that I see this and other asks/comments about it. What you’ve said is something a lot of people are unsure and upset about. I am sorry that you feel so out of place in this community now. And I am also sorry to players of any sexuality who use a male MC. That comment dismissed players and Tamarack’s identity.

It did come from a longer discussion about bi-phobia issues. The overall feelings were “if people did only want Tamarack to be interested in men, I really wouldn’t like that and wouldn’t it be a funny concept if Tamarack then left them for a woman?”. The comment itself didn’t encompass that idea at all. It does not give a good impression about where they’re coming from. It was unkind.

The viewpoint Rose is trying to have isn’t that “Tamarack can never express an interest in men” which would be wrong, it’s “I stand by the fact that Tamarack is someone who wouldn’t only be interested in men and no one else”. If it’s true that Rose likes Tamarack being interested in all genders and doesn’t want her bi-ness to be forgotten, I’d say that’s an acceptable view. If the point actually is that Tamarack should only be with women and if she’s not than Tamarack is no longer bi or she’s a bad character, then you're right- that isn't acceptable and that is going to get someone removed from the project. I do believe Rose agrees with what you’re saying and means it when they say they want to stop bi-erasure, not participate in it for real. But they had a very harsh way of talking about it.

I understand that people don’t know Rose and this situation has made them believe they do seriously hold that first view. But from working with them, there’s never been any feedback that shows an opinion of the sort.

Right now, I think that comment was being edgy and making a quick, very poorly-worded quip to people they’d been chatting with about that topic already. Rose has left the GB Patch discord servers, they used to be a mod, and may or may not ever be back in there. Rose won’t make blog posts responding to players going forward. They’re going to take a break from this and then try to give helpful feedback. We’re going to see if things can be okay from here.

And with this coming up, we’re all really aware that it’s something to consider about the game. I’m going to be as conscious as I can for any advice that seems to go against the character’s identities and I’m going to question my own knee-jerk choices for how I handle things. Other sensitivity readers will be able to give their viewpoints as well, so will the players. If the game’s content isn’t welcoming or is biased people will notice, and I’ll be here to accept what I’ve done. I don’t want that to be the result of this, of course. I hope the game will be thoughtful and considerate, but I can’t fire Rose at this point to try doing that.

No one has to keep following the game, though. I’m sympathetic to anyone who is too uncomfortable with all this to stay around.

[r3medialch8os]

devastating trobed quotes (a list)

does thinking of troy and abed ever make you inexplicably upset? well, it's all in the text! aside from troy and abed serving as frequent comedic buffers, they are given some weighty emotional scenes throughout community's run. just look at the meat of these lines!

we just won't get masking tape (what a beautiful, simplistic way to portray how troy is able to think around abed's systematic manner of viewing their friendship in its beginning stages as well as an illustration of how he deals with conflict)

i love you (pure honesty in a moment of intense distress)

i know (both a reference, because it's easy, and the truth)

you don't like people who tell you what to do, and i don't wanna be one of those people (one of the more heartbreaking things said between the two of them, with troy knowing exactly abed's qualms and negative experiences with being controlled, not wanting to add to it, and still having to fall into the pattern for the sake of keeping him safe, fearing he's risking their friendship by doing so)

you weren't supposed to think those things (you of all people, the person i trust most in this whole world)

this is going to be the last thing we ever do together, we can't stop (what the actual fuck)

i know you hate when people do this in movies (whispered quietly to abed by troy, without anyone else hearing, one of the most romantic, intimate lines in the whole show, argue with the wall)

you're gonna have to trust that you're gonna have to trust me (said to someone with severe trust issues, and for good reasons, just an incredible invocation of the bond they have)

for the first time in my long history of being locked inside things, i knew someone would come (as someone who was bullied in high school, this line hits so fucking hard, aren't we all waiting on this moment?)

you were out there somewhere, and you weren't looking for me? (devastating in a way where i simply cannot believe they throw words like these around casually)

the floor can't be lava forever, the game's gotta end (troy, perpetually insistent on indulging abed, on letting him do his thing, on enjoying his imagination, has to be the one to bring him back to reality this time, and even if he tries to do it as gentle as possible, it will never not rip my fucking heart out)

it's not a game for me troy. i'm seeing real lava because you're leaving, it's embarrassing. i don't wanna be crazy but i am crazy so i made a game that made you and everyone else see what i see. i don't want it to be there either, i swear. i want you to be able to leave but i don't think the lava goes away until you stop leaving (fuck it, i'm putting the whole thing, not a lot makes me cry but abed so clearly experiencing disillusion and trying to assuage troy while also communicating to him how hard it is to accept him leaving all with an air of embarrassment and hopelessness and desperation will do it for me, thank you very much)

i'm not leaving, okay? i promise. the floor's not lava now, just give me your hand (all i can say is that i bet it tore abed to pieces hearing these words)

i think i might be able to let troy go now (the way he says it too)

when i cloned you i had to patch some missing parts of your dna with genes from a homing pigeon. you may notice side effects like a compulsion to come back (in other words, i am in love with you and i never found the right time to say it)

[rainbow-crane]

In-Depth Analysis On All The DR Characters Because What, Are You Gonna Try And Stop Me? Who Are You, My Mom? Yeah, I Didn't Think So- Part 2: Mondo Owada

So yeah, I decided to do Mondo's next. After all the material I ended up inadvertently collecting for him in my Taka analysis, it just made more sense to go ahead and get him out of the way, even if I'd rather go for my personal favorite characters first.

As noted previously, this analysis will only be using canon material. It'll primarily focus on the game and its english translation since that's what I'm most familiar with, but may also pull from the original Japanese, as well as the animation, stageplay, etc. If you aren't interested, just keep scrolling. Mondo fans, prepare some popcorn, and perhaps a tissue box since if you're anything like the Taka fans you may end up crying. You're welcome.

Part 1- Character Design

Mondo Owada is a delinquent character whose design pays homage to manga series Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Diamond is Unbreakable, and is modeled after its protagonist, Josuke Hikashigata. Mondo sports a massive pompadour and a modified uniform that mimics Josuke's, and is the leader of a biker gang called the Crazy Diamonds, a direct reference to Josuke's Stand, Crazy Diamond.

Due to leading this biker gang, he was given the title of SHSL Gang Leader, or Ultimate Biker Gang Leader.

Part 2- Character Introduction

Most of Mondo's character introduction isn't actually from himself, but from the researching Makoto did prior to entering the school in-game. We know immediately that he's leader of the largest biker gang in Japan, and get a look into his public image via Makoto. Despite the fact that Mondo is being fairly chill with his greeting, Makoto remains terrified of him based off of reputation alone- "I'd better be careful around him. One wrong word and I could wake up at the bottom of the sea..."

However, we can quickly see that this reputation is built mainly on bravado, as when Monokuma first calls for the entrance ceremony, we can see Mondo begin to sweat, despite his claiming otherwise- "Well hell, it ain't like I'm scared or nothin'. Let's just get this over with!"

He continues to sweat throughout Monokuma's explanation of the communal life, attempting to cover it up by yelling at the bear to let them out. We get a brief look at his more protective nature, as he purposefully puts himself between Hiro and Monokuma in order to confront him. We also quickly learn just how easily provoked he is.

Despite this provocation, he's not completely swept up in his rage, as he's able to listen to Kyoko's warning of the bomb and follows her advice- to throw it away- without hesitation. So our first real impression of him is that he's a short-tempered and intimidating- but well-intentioned- protector of sorts. He's not completely brainless; he's considerate of his classmates and their safety even when putting himself at risk.

Part 3- Early Game Development

Mondo is an interesting case, as he's a character that almost immediately looks directly into the camera and tells the player directly what their main motivation is. The only other character in this series that's as transparent about their goals so early in is Sayaka, and even then the game makes you ask for that information.

He tells us, in no uncertain terms, that keeping promises is the #1 most important thing to him. He also tells us indirectly how highly he values his family and personal connections, holding his brother's word as law. These combined with his talent being that of a gang leader all suggest a pack leader mentality, which is immediately confirmed by his anger at Byakuya for trying to separate from the group- "Like hell I'm gonna let you run off and do whatever you want!"

Not only is this loss of control upsetting to him, but he's then immediately provoked and called insignificant by Byakuya, leading him to lash out at the closest person in an attempt to regain that hold of power- which just so happens to be Makoto. Not only is this response irrational and violent, but it knocks out Makoto for 10-11 hours. Mondo is a leader, yes, but he's a gang leader, and his bite does match his bark.

Mondo's aggressive and fairly single-minded nature is made apparent when he continuously tries to break down the hatch in the main hall. Not only does he attempt to bust it open with Sakura on the first day, but he then returns to the hatch with Leon the following day, despite the fact he already admitted there was probably no way to open it from inside, and continues to check into the following chapter. He sees one possible way out, and zeroes in on it, just in case.

The game continues to double down on the irrational, defensive aspects of his character when Monokuma appears again to present the first motive. He again confronts Monokuma directly- pretending as if he knows who's piloting the bear for a fact("We know who you are!")- and attempting to intimidate him into letting them go. Once again, this demonstrates both his desire to protect himself and his classmates, and his unwavering confidence in the intelligence of said classmates, as Chihiro was the one to suggest the mastermind being Genocide Jack based only off her gut feeling. He then proceeds to immediately turn around and make Makoto be the one to go find the motive instead of going himself, getting extremely angry when Makoto doesn't instantly do as he's told- "Hey... Hey hey hey hey hey... HEEEEEY!!! You see how passionately I'm begging you!? What's the big deal? Just check it out real quick!"

He then calms down the second Makoto agrees.

It creates a sort of duality with his character between his more protective nature and his need to exert control, something the game makes a point to call out.

Part 4- Relationships

Mondo develops a fair number of relationships across his time in the game, to varying levels of importance- some antagonistic, some exceedingly complex. We'll go from least to most important to the overarching story.

4.1- Celeste

Celeste and Mondo are written in directly opposing ways, as while they're both fairly short-tempered, Celeste is much better at hiding it. It's by this logic that throughout the early game, oftentimes when Mondo starts to get riled up by the rules of the school and/or their circumstances, it's Celeste who ends up deescalating before he can explode, maintaining a facade of calm where he can't.

4.2- Sakuraoi

While not very touched upon, Mondo does end up developing a mutual respect for Sakura and Hina. When the class splits up to investigate the school on the first day, he joins the two of them in trying to find a way to get back to the outside, and he and Sakura work together to try and bust open the hatch in the main hall.

Hina's the one that stops Mondo from attacking Byakuya in the library, and when Chihiro begins to cry over Mondo saying that 'women are naturally weak anyway', it's Hina who calls him out for 'screaming like a lunatic.'

His relationship with Taka is also directly contrasted to Sakura's with Hina by Sakura herself- "Friendship between men seems very simplistic. Nothing like what I'm used to with girls." "Yeah, for real..." It's an interesting comparison, considering both Sakura and Mondo end up dying and leaving the responsibility of failure on Hina and Taka.

4.3- Byakuya

Byakuya antagonizes Mondo more than once, first as they're splitting up to search the school, and again after the library opens. Both times he seems to take enjoyment from it, calling him unimportant more than once and refusing to even entertain the idea that he might die.

"So miniscule, so insignificant, they couldn't possibly have any kind of influence on the boundless ocean."

"You know, I still just can't believe it..." "Believe what?" "That an uneducated, brain-dead, useless piece of garbage like you has survived this long."

"You all need to try harder. If an opponent isn't going to give it their best, where's the fun for me?"

It's enough of a threat for Mondo to genuinely believe that he's dangerous and want to keep him bound so he can't attack (foreshadowing when Byakuya himself would go one to tie Chihiro up? Probably not but it's a neat connection)

He also goes on to fuck with Chihiro, both by mocking her fear and by purposefully tampering with (what he believed to be) the crime scene of her death. On both counts, this directly affects Mondo, calling him out for his bullying("Hey, shithead! You get off on bullying people that can't fight back?") and letting Byakuya pin the crime of killing Chihiro on himself in the trial.

However, despite all this, Mondo never gets the chance to give Byakuya his comeuppance for his words and actions.

4.4- Ishimondo (yeah these bitches gay)

Similarly to Byakuya, Taka starts in a more antagonistic position, directly opposing Mondo as the unofficial, self-designated 'leader' of the class and remaining insensitive to the feelings of his classmates.

Unlike Byakuya, there's no actual intent to harm here, and their banter remains more focused on their differing ideas on how to help their classmates than anything else. Still, as time continues to pass, Mondo's impatience combined with the recent losses from ch 1 starts to push him over the edge, getting angrier with the class's lack of urgency.

This impatience only leads him to butt heads with Taka more, who's trying to keep the class together and safe first and foremost. On top of that, Mondo's delinquency is directly opposed to Taka's disciplinary background, making it all too easy to see each other as foes. Despite the fact they consider themselves the better type of man to the other, they have similar views on how men are to face each other, leading to the sauna scene.

Both characters' strong-willed determination and stubbornness inadvertently puts them on the same path, attempting to use their physical abilities to prove himself a more worthy leader than the other. It's a simplistic way of deciding, but it's one they both wholeheartedly believe in, and this gives them the opportunity to connect with each other in a way they're unable to with anyone else in the class. Thus, the following morning, when asked about the contest, the two have formed an inseparable brotherhood and refuse to even acknowledge the contest, as having a winner would put them on different levels. Interestingly, Mondo shares the belief with Taka that men bond by being naked around each other("Guys gotta expose themselves to each other, ya know?"), suggesting that he removed his clothes in order for this 'brotherhood' to form.

4.5- Daiya

The first thing we learn about Mondo's older brother in-game is that he was the one who taught Mondo to always keep his promises, no matter the cost. The second thing we learn is that he fucking died. And until nearly the end of Mondo's run in the game, that's all we as an audience need to know. He had an older brother that taught him his core values and passed away, leaving Mondo to carry out his wishes. It's not until after the chapter 2 trial is said and done that we learn anything more about him through Mondo's secret: "That embarrassing memory, that secret he didn't want anyone to know... You know what he did? He killed his own brother!"

It's through Monokuma that we learn the truth of Mondo's history with his brother: Daiya was his only family growing up, and thus, became his role model, the man Mondo himself wanted to become. He respected Daiya and Daiya alone. He followed him everywhere, and together, they formed the Crazy Diamonds, which went from a local biker gang to one of the greatest in Japan. It was through his brother that he developed his biking talent, and acted as his right hand. But some of the gang didn't believe in Mondo or trust him the way Daiya did. As Daiya grew older and prepared to retire, rumors of nepotism circulated throughout the gang, saying that Mondo was nothing compared to Daiya, that he wasn't worthy to take over the gang.

"Daiya created the gang with his bare hands! Mondo's just along for the ride." "Can someone like that be our leader?" "All that'll do is make the gang look bad."

Any accomplishments Mondo had made within the gang didn't count to the gang, or to Mondo himself, because they were put next to the leader's achievements. He compared himself to Daiya as well, feeding into the rumors and developing a deep-rooted jealousy. He felt like he had to be the stronger man, had to prove himself to the gang, had to best his brother or he wouldn't be accepted. So he challenged him. He challenged Daiya, and lost all restraint on the road, charging forward with the desperation of a dead man. And it cost him his brother's life.

His brother made him promise not to let the gang go as he passed; Mondo became shackled by his honor to stay. He fully believes it was his fault Daiya died, and now not only is he indebted to stay with the gang, but can never admit blame for fear of tarnishing not only his own reputation, but tearing his brother's gang apart. His community demands unwavering macho leadership, and he can't afford to break character for even a second.

4.6- Chihiro (will be using mostly he/him due to discussing canon)

Mondo and Chihiro exist on 2 sides of the same coin- toxic masculinity. Both characters (canonically speaking here) are men, but are perceived totally differently, both by those around them and by themselves. And because of this design, when put into the high-stress scenario that they were, they were doomed to drive each other to ruin.

Even before chapter 2 starts, there are multiple instances of Mondo listening to Chihiro and respecting his words without doubt(his theory of Genocide Jack and asking his opinion on '11037'). We've also seen Mondo's confrontational and protective nature in action. So it's no surprise at all when he stands up to Byakuya on Chihiro's behalf when he clams up. And while this is done with good intentions, it only serves to make Chihiro feel weaker. Mondo is physically stronger- anyone can see that- and he's not afraid to mouth off to someone showing excitement at the killing game they were all forced into. So when asked if he's okay the following morning, he can't help but explain himself- he feels weak, and doesn't like having someone else stand up for him. For Mondo, this goes directly against his idea of strength, and can't comprehend why "she'd" possibly care.

With all of Mondo's toughness, he carries not just the expectations of a man, but the misogynist beliefs that often come with it. But regardless of that, he's immediately able to tell he fucked up("Hey, c'mon, don't cry... I-It's my fault, okay? I won't yell anymore...") as far as the narrative will allow him due to writer's bias*. He feels bad about this, genuinely, enough to offer Chihiro his promise as a man. It's enough of a gesture for Chihiro to trust him completely, believing in the man's promise he's emphasized as being the most important thing to him since the very beginning.

(*Writer's bias in this case means the author is also sexist to a degree. Mondo is very clearly meant to be a tough guy with good intentions but because the creator appears to agree with the sentiment that women are weaker on average, we as an audience are meant to take issue with the fact that he's yelling and not the sexist statement. Said bias is made pretty clear by the fact their 'weak boy' character is dressed like a woman to emphasize his weakness and be a 'gotcha', as well as the fact they later have Kyoko force Makoto to tear paper out of Hifumi's rigor mortis hand because Makoto's a boy and she's a girl, even though earlier in that same game she, still a girl, was allowed to examine Chihiro's corpse in enough detail to find her dick. Writer's biases can and does affect the final product, so it's always important to consider that when looking at a character's development to determine whether they're being shitty because they're supposed to be or if it's some fault with the creator themself inputting their biases into something that otherwise wouldn't develop in this way. This has been Critical Consumption of Media 101.)

When Chihiro's found dead, Mondo keeps his head hung, lamenting about the fact that Chihiro wanted to be stronger, and when Makoto points out Chihiro was a woman anyway, Mondo just dismisses it, contradicting his earlier statement.

He respects Chihiro's memory and refuses to speak poorly of him. And while at first glance this is all it appears to be, as the trial unfolds and we learn the truth about what happened to Chihiro, a dual meaning behind this reveals itself- another showcasing of his devotion to the promises he keeps and the desire to protect his friend, even in death.

Chihiro is physically weak; a strong wind could probably knock him over, and he's much more in-tune with his emotions than your average guy. He mourns the losses of Sayaka, "Junko", and Leon all deeply, and has a deep shame for not being able to defend himself against Byakuya. But despite all this, when tested by Monokuma's secrets motive, he doesn't crumble away. He thrives, taking that threat and turning it into motivation to push his limits. He has the self-awareness to know when to ask for help, and isn't swayed by the threat of death. He's physically weak, but is incredibly strong mentally and is able to conquer his fears and face the lie he created for himself. Unfortunately for him, living with this toxic idea of what masculinity is supposed to look like makes him believe the way to do this can only be found in becoming physically stronger, and dies without ever seeing the strength he already had.

Mondo, on the inverse, is extremely physically capable, even without trying. He's 187 cm of muscle, and is confrontational to a fault, only giving him more opportunities to show off that physical strength. But on the inside, he can't face the sins of his past, can't admit his faults, and can't comprehend how to make peace with himself. All this is exacerbated by the weight he carries of leading the gang his brother formed, unable to release that weight from his conscience.

"N-No matter what... I couldn't let the other gang members find out. If that happened, everything would've been ruined... Everything me and my brother worked to create... woulda been destroyed... His death... all the guilt I'd been carrying around... it all woulda been for nothing."

And when Monokuma tests his resolve, he completely crumbles. Unable to admit the truth to himself, he's faced with Chihiro, someone who has the mental capability he could only dream of. That primal fear of breaking the promise he made for his brother on his deathbed, combined with Chihiro's unwavering confidence as he happily chimes how unbothered Mondo must be, blocks out all rationale. He spirals, forgetting where he is and who he's talking to, trying to make the panic go away as he throws the dumbbell in his hand.

Chihiro and Mondo each have everything the other wants, and drive each other to death trying to get it.

Part 5- Chihiro's Trial

For most of the trial, Mondo doesn't appear suspicious at all. So much time is spent on Byakuya's suspicious behavior and his framing of Genocide Jack that you barely notice him. He fully appears to be trying to find Chihiro's killer and find justice for her, following Makoto's line of reasoning to find Byakuya as the killer- with the body's suspension and the subtle differences between Jack's methods of killing and the murder of Chihiro herself. He's all too eager to declare Byakuya as the killer- and though we can't know for sure, he may have genuinely believed it. After all, walking into the girls' locker room to find her body suspended and the message of 'Bloodlust' written on the walls certainly wasn't his doing. Unfortunately for him, that's all Byakuya did, and the conversation continues.

In the end, Mondo brings about his own execution. Even after slipping up with his words, the conversation is able to continue on, sfifting focus over to Chihiro's missing E-Handbook and what exactly happened to it. And when Mondo becomes cornered with Makoto's mention of the sauna, it's not Mondo who goes on the defensive; it's Taka. Mondo gives up; he lets his tough-guy persona go. He finally faces the truth; he's undoubtedly the one that ended Chihiro's life, no matter how he may have wanted to delude himself otherwise. He sees his bro defending him, and he accepts that he has to die. It's not beyond reason to say that Taka's insistence of his innocence was what pushed him to truly admit his guilt, both to the class and to himself. Up until this point, he'd still been trying to play it off and get away with it. But was it worth it to live and kill his bro, and everyone else, just to protect his pride? No. He admits to being the killer, straight up.

"Yeah. Yeah... I did it... I killed him."

"Go ahead, Monokuma. Get it over with... Ask for the goddamned verdict..."

Part 6- The Cage of Death

The first person that comments with some variation of OH MY GOD YOU'RE SO EVIL HOW COULD YOU PUT THE EXECUTION IN THIS gets a cookie. Anyways, the executions in these games are always thematic to the characters and are meant to send them into the worst possible despair in their final moments, so let's break this down.

The execution begins with Mondo forcefully strapped to his motorcycle by Monokuma, who's sporting the same pompadour as him. This may be representative of Mondo feeling confined to the biker gang by his guilt; he was never able to break free of the lie he created about that night. The pompadour is likely just Monokuma making fun of him for his hair again, as the thing that nearly killed him in the prologue.

The kanji written on the motorcycle reads 'Little Black Sambo,' a reference to a children's story of the same title. The entire execution is an inverse of this story as well. In the story, a boy named Sambo is surrounded by four hungry tigers, and gives up his clothes to avoid being eaten. The tigers are all conceited and argue over who's the best-dressed, chasing each other in circles until they churn themselves into butter. Sambo is then able to recollect his clothes and the butter, and his mother uses the butter to make pancakes. This story is well-known and beloved in Japan, but isn't in basically the entire rest of the world on account of the racist caricatures of the POC present in it.

Mondo's execution is a inversed version of the story(and also, because Mondo isn't blasian there's thankfully no directly racist art in it, just tigers). Rather than being the one to trick the tigers, he's the one who's full of pride, and so he's sent into a motorcycle cage and left to spin around and around, while the tigers dance on either side of him. He ends up being the one who's turned into butter, and Monokuma gets to enjoy a delicious plate of Mondocakes. It's meant to represent the downfall of Mondo's macho personality and how he sent himself into a spiral, but loses a lot of its meaning if you aren't familiar with the story.

Part 7- Jealousy

So, we've torn this character apart. We know what makes him tick, but why does that all matter? What was the point of his story? Simple- it's a cautionary tale. It's a warning against everything he stands for. Mondo, through all his faults, is NOT someone you're actually supposed to idealize or hold up as the epitome of manhood in the way that Chihiro does. Rather, he's a deconstruction of everything society views as 'manly', and a demonstration of why that line of thinking is inherently flawed. He's big and tough, he yells and cusses at the people around him, he doesn't have a handle on his own strength. He knocks a dude out for like, 10 hours straight because he was mad at someone else!!! That's not a healthy way to get your frustration out!!!

Simply put, your image and pride are not worth your mental health, and comparing yourself to the people around you not only tortures yourself, but can hurt those who you love. Mondo couldn't stop comparing his own faults to the strengths of others, and ended up pushing himself too hard trying to prove himself. Not only did he lose his brother over it, but he felt like he had to keep all his pain and regret locked up for the sake of an image they'd painted together. It pushed him up to the edge, and he never learned to cope with it in a way that was healthy. It only led to him lashing out more and more, and repeating history when he killed Chihiro. Your trauma can't be fixed by ignoring it or shoving it down; seek out help when you need it. It's okay to confide in your friends; they aren't your enemy, and they aren't making fun of you. That line of thinking will only push you over the edge.

Afterword

So yeah, this was longer than anticipated. Even after doing Taka's and creating a point of reference for myself, I still ended up surprised. I mean, Taka survived longer, so you'd think his would be longer, right? But no, Mondo is not only a very well-established character, but he has more important connections and a much more impactful storyline. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say Mondo may be one of the easiest characters to understand from THH, considering how in-your-face they make him. And I respect that, even if his whole facade can be kind of annoying for me. I totally see why this guy is so popular among fans. Happy birthday Mondo!

Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this one, and be sure to stick around! Sayaka's analysis is coming up next, and holy shit am I excited for this one.

[blackpilljesus]

The rise in popularity of single childfree women should signal that we need to start preparing. I've spoken about this before but want to address a common concern of safety regarding maIe retaliation. At this point some women may think they'll be safer trying to get a maIe but the statistics show otherwise. There's a reason women fought for rights in the first place, we all know that maIes as a collective are horrible beings. If maIes were pleasant to be around & reproduce with, they wouldn't need to force women into it.

Now I dont have all the answers in terms of what to do in the face of maIe retaliation but where to start:

1 - Move in silence. MaIes dont need to know our every move. MaIes have enough power as is, them knowing our strategy on top of that wont help. Hell, play dumb sometimes. This also applies to other women, if they push marriage & kids bs be measured in your response, in the end you know your truth. At the end of the day most of these women are also aware of the danger maIes pose.

2 - Organise. This is tough, extremely tough i can't lie. For one we're scattered all over the world & people in our real lives wouldn't have the committment to this nor believe in deviating from the nuclear structure but it is something needed. Even if it's just online, find or build networks with likeminded women. I say this as a lone wolf but infrastructure & network is needed because the government will make it harder to survive alone so some would need to be able to lean on each other for support even if it's just verbal. Practice separatism as far as you can. Take up learning how to defend yourself. If you're serious about this; be prepared to break the rules at some point because playing nice & by the law wont work. These things are set up by men for men and it wont help us. I'm not saying go out there & purposefuly break the law or put yourself in harms way, just saying prepare. It sounds far out now but the current system cant be counted on, blind eyes are turned when maIes abuse women, women are punished for defending themselves under the system. Even if you dont want to go down the route of community, learn to take care of yourself & hold your own down.

3 - Stop arguing with maIes. This doesnt mean that xys are right, I say this a lot but maIes are fully aware of everything. Arguing with maIes online is a waste of time, time that can go to building for yourself or likeminded women. MaIes denying female oppression is part of the game to keep you wasting your energy on them as opposed to working on yourself. It's to keep you in their hands; doesn't matter whether you're right or not, how many statistics you throw at them, you're still biting their bait.

4 - Stack up on resources & money. If you have resources & money and the priviledge to save then start now. If/when things go downhill it wont be a snap thing but a transition so this window needs to be used to the best of our advantage. Take advantage of the privileges you have now to set yourself for the future because that could very well be gone.

I doubt we'd win tbh but I'd rather die trying than live submitting. I will mention that I know it's scary but we have to think forward. Bear in mind the system has never worked for women, some will say things like "but when women leave maIes get more violent" but there is no safety in the first place. Women are sexually harrassed & assaulted any where at any time with no protection already. Women are constantly told of all the things they should or shouldn't do to avoid maIe violence and it doesnt work anyways, maIes will continue to abuse women & girls. No amount of listening & obeying has helped women because it doesn't matter what the reason for maIe violence is, if they cant find a reason they'll create a reason because their motive is to make women suffer in addition to reproduction & having labour.

Now I know many will speak about the violence of maIe retaliation which I'll address in part 3. This is part 2 of 'the rise in single childfree women' group of posts.

Part 1

[blackmosscupcakes]

While I'm on the subject of Bells Hells' reactions to the events of last episode, I'm extremely interested in what's going to happen with Ashton. After all, only DAYS ago in-game, Ashton had their own mishap that resulted in the whole party being furious with them to varying degrees. And C3E78, their apology tour for that event, came with plenty of statements and promises on their part that have an awful lot of relevance to current events.

Ashton has always shown a high degree of awareness that this is a group teetering on the edge of darkness at any given time. His apologies in episode 78 tend to be loaded with assurances that he will forgive the others when it's their turn to make mistakes just as he hopes they will forgive him. Here's what he said to Chetney:

TALIESIN: Well, I'm glad you stopped. And I don't know, I'm processing a lot right now, but if I do stay, if you let me stay, the day something happens and it goes bad for you and you hurt a lot of people because, for any reason somebody gets in your head, something bad happens, something pushes you over the edge, something just fucking stupid. Stay or go, I promise that I will stick around, help clean it up. You will get no shit from me. None.

And here's what they said specifically to Laudna when she confronted them:

TALIESIN: I will, no matter what we do, no matter what mistakes we make, no matter what we have, I will stay and I will be there and I will not-- I will not walk away. I don't know what love is, but I'm going with this.

And they seem to be sticking to that promise! At the end of last episode they were very strongly by her side. He clearly sees (understandably, given his past) the act of sticking with someone no matter what to be one of the highest expressions of love. But sticking by someone doesn't mean signing off on all of their behaviour unchallenged, either. I also think it's relevant to look at what was in his mind when Imogen tried to read it:

TALIESIN: I think I've seen a pattern in my life and I've-- I'm going to just describe it instead of-- Just the realization of hubris and temptation and blame and this sudden realization of this epiphany of violent levels of projecting responsibility. Just this very wide thought of so many moments in life of not being responsible for what happened and suddenly going through that one by one of just, it took one week of vaguely knowing where I came from, and the only thing I really knew about these people was that they fucked up in this very particular way and it took me one week to do the exact fucking same thing. Because I was so desperate to have it and so desperate to have something that I lost so that I could be mad at someone for taking it.

They immediately took a step back and saw their responsibility for the way in which they hurt their friends, and so they expressed regret and apologies for that. He also saw how his actions were a way of reflecting his hurt back out into the world in the same way he was hurt. His father failed him, and his pain and trauma led him down the path of making a very similar mistake. I suspect all of this was on his mind in that moment where he took Laudna by the shoulder and whispered to her that she should start with an apology. They were hoping she would respond to it with that same introspection, but unfortunately a few things--not the least of which being Delilah--are in the way of that.

The question is what does he do next? He made a promise to walk beside, but (as I said above) that isn't necessarily a promise to unilaterally co-sign all of someone's actions, and I'd like to see a step forward in which Ashton uses their experience with the shard and what happened after to perhaps try and further encourage Laudna to make amends and communicate and come into the fold of the group instead of isolating herself. But I wonder if perhaps they do not feel that they have the right to say anything negative to her at all only days after the shard incident. But how does one reconcile that with a group member who risks becoming genuinely dangerous to your other loved ones if she continues down the path she's on?

[helloalycia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 [𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

summary: after your drunken kiss with Jackie, you're left to deal with the consequences.

warning/s: mentions of underage drinking and minor violence.

author's note: here’s the final part! last jackie one for a while as i don’t have anything pre-written, but i’m working on other stuff so i hope this holds you guys down for a bit :)

one / two / masterlist / wattpad

It was safe to say that the next day, after the worst hangover of my life, everything came back to me and I was mortified at what I'd done. Technically, it was the both of us, but we were both out of it and Jackie Taylor never begged for anyone, especially not me. It had to have been a mere drunken mistake and that was it.

Two days after the party, Van and I were hanging out at the skate park and she, expectedly, brought up the whole finding Jackie and I making out situation.

"I never would've guessed, y'know," she was saying, surprised. "Jackie didn't strike me as a–"

I stopped skating before her, foot on the lip of the board as I shot her a look. "We were drunk, Van, you saw it yourself. It didn't mean anything."

Van snorted. "It didn't look that way from where I was standing."

Cheeks flushing, I tried to play it cool. "You were standing on the balcony claiming you could do a ninja flip in the pool at one point. I wouldn't take you as gospel."

"Hey, I totally could've landed that if Tai didn't pull me down!" she defended, making me stifle a smile as I skated circles around her. "Look, all I'm saying is Jackie has been asking about you a lot lately. No offence, but you're not that interesting."

"Gee, thanks," I said sarcastically.

"Could've meant more is all I'm saying," she finished with a shrug.

"Well, it didn't," I assured her, though a small part of me was beginning to question if it did.

No, it couldn't have. She was Jackie Taylor and I was... an absolute idiot.

And with that mentality, I wasn't really planning to bring it up to her, figuring she'd do the same. The following Monday at school, we didn't really have much crossover as Chemistry wasn't on the schedule. There were times when my eyes would cross hers in the hallway, but I couldn't read her expression. The memory of her lips on mine would come to mind and I'd be forced to look away, still wondering if it had been real.

That afternoon after school was when our paths really crossed, as we had our weekly volunteering hours at the community garden. When I arrived, everybody was gathered in front of the manager outside and I hurried to join them, noticing I was a little late. Jackie was stood a few people down from me in the row, and when I glanced at her, she made no effort to look my way.

After being given our tasks for the next few hours, we all got straight into it. Unlike every other time we were here, she wanted nothing to do with me, no inclination to work together. In fact, it was as if she was avoiding me completely, frustrated by my presence, and I wasn't sure why because I was under the impression it was a mutual understanding we wouldn't talk about the kiss.

After an half an hour of planting some seeds, I decided to just ask her, finding her in the corner by the water fountain as she (surprisingly) scrubbed it clean.

"Er, hey," I spoke, the first time since we'd made out in Lottie's gaming room.

At my voice, she glanced up at me with narrowed eyes before scoffing quietly and looking back to the fountain. I felt something cold patter on my skin and looked up to see it was beginning to drizzle, but only slightly. Ignoring that, I focused my attention on Jackie.

"Are you mad at me about something?" I asked.

She paused to look at me with an incredulous stare. "Seriously?"

I pursed my lips awkwardly. "Yeah."

Clenching her jaw and simultaneously squeezing the sponge in her hand, she lowered her voice and fixed me with a glare. "Weren't you going to say anything?!"

"What?"

"Do I have to freakin' spell it out for you?"

"The kiss," I acknowledged, fearing saying it aloud, because it only made it more real.

She exhaled sharply, hazel eyes looking green with fury.

"You... you meant that?" I asked dumbly.

At this, her expression loosened and she looked away with pink-tinged cheeks. "Forget it."

Taken aback, I stepped forward, forcing myself in front of her. "No, wait, Jackie–"

"You don't care," she said in a surprisingly sad voice, eyes flickering to mine. "No matter what I do."

I swallowed hard, my heart squeezing in my chest at the way she looked at me. Her words from the party, before the kiss, came to mind. I've been trying to get your attention for months, you idiot. All this time, all this attention... she meant it?

"I thought you were playing a game," I admitted, feeling stupid even as I said it.

Slowly, her face scrunched up with hurt. "Well, I wasn't."

She began to scrub the tiles of the fountain rapidly and I realised how blind I'd been. But as I opened my mouth to apologise, a fellow student called for my help and I had no choice but to leave.

The drizzle worsened over the next hour, as did Jackie's avoidance of me. I was still reeling over her admission, truly believing she'd have regretted kissing some loser Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle on Halloween when she could've had anyone. I knew I needed to make things right because making her this upset was never my intention.

We ended up finishing earlier than usual because the forecasted drizzle quickly turned into a cool shower, making it impossible to work in the garden. As everybody rushed to leave, I tried to find Jackie, spotting her walking out the garden and down the road. Hand clutching my hood on my raincoat, I followed after her, noticing the only thing she had for protection was her denim jacket. Typical Jackie, not dressing for the season.

"Hey," I called to her, eventually falling into step. "Have you got a ride home?"

She didn't bother to look at me. "None of your damn business."

I struggled to keep up with her pace as I squinted my eyes through the rain. "Jackie, please. I can give you a–"

She stopped abruptly to scowl at me. "Leave me alone!"

I frowned guiltily. "At least take my jacket."

"Fuck off," she hissed, before storming off.

I sighed at her stubbornness, running the other way to get to my car. It took me barely two minutes to drive down the road and catch up to her. She was still storming down the street, soaked to the bone and very much irritated.

"Jackie," I called out through my rolled down window, driving slowly next to her. "Just get in the car! Please!"

She ignored me, managing to flip me off without sparing a glance in my direction.

"You don't have to talk to me, just please let me take you home!" I offered, guilt pressing on my chest.

Nothing.

I groaned and parked a little ahead of her before jumping out the car and trying again, unable to leave her when she was so upset. And the reason she was so upset was because I was a coward when it came to my emotions. Well, no more.

Running to catch up to her, I skidded to a stop before her. "Wait."

She tried to shove past me, but I grabbed her by the shoulders and kept her fixed in place, speaking before she could berate me further.

"The reason I'm not swayed by you like everyone else is because I never had a chance," I rushed out, competing with the pitter-patter of the rain.

She paused, studying my expression curiously as I continued.

"I wasn't going to drool over you like everyone else because it only reminded me that it was a delusion," I said weakly, letting go of her shoulders. "It's embarrassing, Jackie. It's not that your charms weren't working, it was me."

She opened her mouth slightly, eyebrows lifted with surprise.

"I'm sorry," I said sincerely, squinting through the rain. "I don't want you to be upset at me. It's just– well– like I said, it's embarrassing."

Her eyes flickered between mine, before her expression hardened. "Shut up."

I sighed, expecting her annoyance. "Jackie–"

"No, shut up," she interrupted, and then her hand lifted to my cheek and she was pulling me in for a kiss. 

The breath was quite literally knocked from my body as her lips found mine, intermingled with water droplets and her lipgloss. It lasted only a few seconds, not even enough for me to acknowledge, before she pulled apart and frowned at me.

"You have a fucking chance," she said sternly, contrasting her warm gaze that was making my heart race. "You always did."

Her breath tickled my lips as she held me close, sending shivers down my spine.

"You're so stupid," she muttered.

I sighed, licking my lips. "I know." And as the rain seemed to pick up, I became aware of the two of us stood out here, soaked to the bone, and gave her a knowing look. "Not stupider than you though, marching off into a thunderstorm because you're stubborn."

She scoffed, hand resting on my chest as she shoved me slightly. "I would've gotten the bus."

I couldn't help but smile, which soon turned into a laugh. "Please, get in the car. I'll drop you off."

Her expression softened as she looked to me, nodding, and I quickly opened the door for her, helping her in. We both sat there for a moment, warm air blasting to fight off the cold damp that had settled through our clothes, and my mind was still racing.

"I notice you," I admitted to her, earning her attention. "Everything you do. Everything about you. I'm as hooked on you as everyone else. That was the problem."

Feeling her eyes on me, I glanced at her, unable to read her mind.

"Is it still?" she asked softly.

All I could do was shake my head, eyes taking in the sight of her smudged makeup and wet hair, pressed to her forehead. She had a hold on me like nobody else did, but I wasn't so scared of it anymore.

Her hand found mine, squeezing it gently, reassuringly, and I encased hers between mine.

"Time to go home," I said, and she smiled gently.

"Please."

I returned her smile before finally setting off, driving her home in a comfortable silence. She didn't live far and I reached the Taylor residence in ten minutes, pulling up outside.

As she reached to open the door, I quickly said, "Wait," and jumped out the car, taking off my jacket.

I raised it above my head to use as a cover against the rain, then opened the passenger door for her. She smiled gratefully, accepting my outstretched hand, and I held my jacket above us as we rushed to the front door, hoping to make it out the rain.

"Thanks," she said when we stopped on her porch, giving me chance to lower my jacket momentarily.

I smiled then hesitated, eyes flickering over her face, nerves creeping in the longer I stared.

"Do you, maybe, wanna go out with me on a date?" I asked quickly, before I could overthink it any longer. "Maybe we could get lunch? I'm not sure when you're free, but–"

"Yes," she answered just as quickly. "Tomorrow?"

Both relieved and excited, I nodded. "Yeah. That sounds good. I can pick you up for one?"

Her lips pressed together in a warm smile. "Yeah."

I nodded, unable to stop smiling. "Cool."

She laughed and then kissed my cheek, making my whole body grow alight at her touch. "Drive safe, Y/N."

I swallowed hard, nodding instantly, unable to find my words. Waving goodbye, I began to walk down her pathway and back to my car, glad she couldn't see my face because my grin was permanent. I was taking Jackie freakin' Taylor out on a date!

—

Dating Jackie was still difficult to believe, especially when it was just the two of us who knew, so it felt as unreal as it did wonderful.

Our first date went as smoothly as it could've been, and I was surprised when Jackie asked me out on a second one before it even ended. It was easy to fall into her, everything she did igniting every part of me like fire to a match, and though she was still her usual self-obsessed and cocky self, I suddenly found those traits endearing, only because they were hers.

It hadn't been discussed, but neither of us told anyone about our relationship, not even a month into it. Neither Van or Shauna, the people who knew us the best, knew about us. It wasn't because we didn't trust them, but it was easier to live in our bubble for a little longer before we shared it with the others.

Of course, with friends like them, secrets didn't stay secrets for long.

I was grabbing some books from my locker with Van, who wouldn't stop chatting my ear off about one of her classes. A little tired, definitely not a morning person, I was only half listening to what she was saying.

"...by the way, can I borrow your headphones today? I left mine at home and I've got a free period," she said between her rambling.

"Yeah, they're in my bag," I told her, passing her my backpack before resuming my search in my locker for my textbooks.

She accepted it and began rooting through it whilst continuing to talk, and then she suddenly fell quiet, pulling something out of my bag with a questioning look.

"Whose is this?" she asked with confusion.

I glanced at her, almost doing a double take when I recognised the lipgloss in her hand as Jackie's. She must have dropped it in there by accident when we were last hanging out. But I couldn't say that to Van, not without her asking why we'd been hanging out in the first place, so I tried to play it cool.

"Huh, I'm not sure," I said with a shrug, neck growing warm. "Must've fallen in there from class or something."

Thankfully, Van thought nothing of it, shrugging. "Huh."

I assumed she'd drop it back in my bag, but she wordlessly tossed it in the bin next to us, making my eyes widen slightly. Well, now I owed Jackie a new lipgloss.

It wasn't until later that day in History class when Van and I were taking our seats behind Shauna and Jackie, as usual, that Van began piecing everything together. Students were still filing into the classroom, Jackie being one of them, but she seemed distracted.

"You find it yet?" Shauna asked with amusement once she spotted the blonde approaching her desk.

Jackie pouted. "No." Then her eyes fell to Van and I hopefully, asking, "Have either of you seen my lipgloss? It's like this big–" She gestured with her fingers as she continued, "–pink, sparkly, literally the only one I wear? I've lost it."

The earth could have swallowed me up there and then and it would've been less painful than enduring the confused glance from Van.

"God, you guys are no help," Jackie grumbled when neither of us replied, myself avoiding Van's questioning gaze as she tried to work it out.

As Jackie returned to her seat, Van kicked my leg beside me, making me groan.

"Why did you have Jackie's lipgloss?" she asked quietly, and I glanced at her quickly before shrugging.

"You don't know it was hers."

Van narrowed her eyes. "It very much is." Then, she added, "You're being weird..."

I scoffed. "You're being weird."

Thankfully, the bell rang again, signalling the start of class, and I was able to avoid any further questions from Van. She wasn't stupid though, and it wouldn't be long before she figured it out.

That same afternoon, I had Science class with Jackie as my partner, so that was when I decided to update her about her precious lip gloss. She was already sat down, scribbling in her notebook, when I pulled out the stool beside her.

"Hey," she greeted with a warm smile, eyes softening in a way that was only reserved for me and still made my heart race a little.

"Hello," I said with a slight smile, sitting beside her. "I come bearing news. The good news is, I know where your lipgloss is. The bad news is, Van threw it out."

She lost her smile, expression contorting into one of confusion. "What?"

So, I briefly explained about the whole lipgloss situation this morning, including Van suspecting something or the other, and finishing with an, "I'm sorry, I'll buy you a new one."

She sighed, disappointed by her trashed lipgloss. "It's okay," she said, before adding, "Y'know, maybe it's time to tell everyone? Then Van wouldn't have to suspect anything."

I was surprised at how certain she sounded, though nodded. "I– yeah. If you want."

She began to smile, honey-coloured eyes meeting mine with a hint of amusement. "If you want."

I mirrored her smile, a mixture of adoration and excitement running through me at the possibility of sharing our relationship.

As much as I could have sat there staring at Jackie all afternoon, we were suddenly interrupted by Van who thought it would be funny to slam her hand on the desk between us, startling us.

"Hey, nerds," she said with a grin, making me roll my eyes as Jackie cracked a smile. "Anyone got some spare goggles?"

I breathed out petulantly as Jackie handed her the goggles, purposely avoiding Van's suspicious eyeballing of us.

Something told me she might know something already.

—

Now that Jackie and I had mentioned telling our friends, we were yet to find the right time. Only days after that, we hadn't had the chance to properly discuss it, but with the way things turned out, we didn't need to.

Van was at soccer practice after school, so I was staying back to study so I could be her ride home. By the time they'd finished, I went out to the field to go get her, seeing her drinking some water with the other girls by the benches.

Naturally, the first girl I noticed was Jackie – she was chatting to Shauna and their teammate, Nat – and she looked adorable in her gym clothes, slightly sweaty and red in the face from practice. Her eyes found mine like a magnet and I couldn't help but smile in her direction, heart fluttering like it always did. She returned my smile before tuning back into her conversation with the others.

"Hey," I greeted Van, elbow bumping hers. "How was practice?"

"Pretty good," she answered, capping her water. "I was amazing as always."

"You wish," Taissa said before I could, walking past with her gym bag but smiling at Van with amusement.

"You're just jealous," Van said knowingly, making Taissa roll her eyes before walking away.

I chuckled and gave Van a disapproving look. "I thought we were making friends at soccer practice, kid?"

"Shut up," Van huffed with a ghost of a smile, shoving me slightly.

I laughed. "Well, I'm ready when you are. You can shower first or–"

"Hey, ladies," Nat suddenly interrupted, approaching us with a mischievous smile, before her eyes settled on me. "Y/L/N. Good to see you."

"Nat," I acknowledge with a smile. "You good?"

"Hell yeah," she said confidently, and Shauna and Jackie approached us as she continued, "How about you? Still breaking noses?"

My cheeks grew warm uncontrollably, the memory of punching Leroy still a little embarrassing when it was brought up. "It was once. Nose, singular. And it was for a valid reason. I don't just start fights for the fun of it."

Van snorted and I shoved her once more, continuing to look at Nat.

"Gotcha," she said with a slow nod. "Hey, I have to ask... you're single, right?"

I almost choked on my spit when she said that, eyes darting between Van, Nat and the tense expression of my girlfriend.

"I– er–" I wasn't sure what to say, since technically nobody knew about Jackie and I yet, but I didn't know if I could share it right now.

"'Course she is," Van answered for me. "Why? You got the hots for my best friend?"

Nat smirked. "Maybe I do."

I was taken aback, since Nat and I had never really talked much before, so where was this coming from?

Jackie, on the other hand, was silently fuming beside Shauna as she glared daggers into the blonde's head.

"I– I'm flattered," I said awkwardly, attempting to fix everything, "but I'm not interested, Nat." There was an uncomfortable pause, which I felt the need to fill, "Not that you're not pretty or anything–"

Jackie's glare was then directed at me and I knew I'd said the wrong thing.

Clearing my throat, I continued, "What I'm trying to say is–"

"Oh, c'mon, it could be fun!" Nat encouraged. "You, me, the skate park you go to that I definitely don't get high in."

Van shrugged, glancing at me. "Could be fun, Y/N."

I furrowed my brows, wondering why she was so on board with the idea of Nat and I going out.

"She doesn't wanna go, so maybe let's just drop it," Jackie suddenly interjected.

"Van's right, Jackie, it could be fun," Shauna said, before nodding at me encouragingly, and now I was outright baffled.

"Yeah, it's not like you're seeing anyone," Van added, looking to me.

Before I could speak, Jackie blurted out, "She is!"

I pursed my lips as I glanced at Jackie's reddening face, both from soccer and her frustration.

Van chuckled. "I think I'd know if my best friend was–"

"She's dating me," Jackie cut her off bluntly. "Y/N is my girlfriend. Okay?!"

I swallowed hard. "That's one way to share it..."

Jackie narrowed her eyes at me, unimpressed, as Van suddenly jumped up with satisfaction.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, further existing to confuse me. "I knew you guys were dating!"

"You what?" I asked her with raised brows.

"Twenty bucks, please," Nat said with a hand out to Van.

Van sighed and placed a ten dollar bill in Nat's hand, as Shauna did the same. Jackie and I's jaws dropped as we watched the exchange. This was planned?!

"See you around," Nat said with a wink, before leaving the four of us alone.

"You were playing us?!" Jackie asked Shauna with disbelief.

"Van and I had our suspicions, okay?" Shauna admitted. "You two were being super fishy and we waited for you to tell us, but you didn't!"

"Wow," I said with surprise. "How–"

"Manipulative," Jackie finished for me.

"I was gonna say funny," I added, making her stare at me with disapproval.

"You made it so obvious with the lip gloss, y'know," Van pointed out. "And the giggling together in labs? What – did you think we're all blind?"

My cheeks grew warm yet again and I avoided Van's teasing gaze.

"We were actually planning to tell you at some point," Jackie admitted.

"Bit too late," Shauna said playfully. "But look, we're happy for you!"

"Yeah, you guys are cute," Van said with a smile. "How long?"

"Just over a month," I revealed.

Van sighed. "God, you kept me in the dark for that long? Terrible friend."

"Van!"

"I'm kidding," she said with a laugh, before pulling me in for a side hug, to which I shoved her off because she was sweaty. "I'm happy for you, kiddo."

"Shut up," I whined.

"I can't believe you let Nat hit on her when I was stood right here," Jackie complained.

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Shauna said with a shrug.

Jackie rolled her eyes. "Barely."

Glad they at least knew, I sighed. "Okay, well since that's been cleared up, Van, are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, one sec," she said before going to grab her bag.

"I'll get our stuff," Shauna said to Jackie, before following after Van to grab their bags.

Once Jackie and I were left alone, I stepped forward and took her hands. "Guess that's that."

She sighed. "They're assholes."

I chuckled. "They are. Funny, though."

She scoffed. "Stupid more like." She glanced at me curiously. "You really think Nat is pretty?"

I groaned. "C'mon, Jackie, I was put on the spot! Believe it or not, I've never had to let someone down before. It's not easy."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously before leaning in close.  "You're lucky you're cute."

"Gee, thanks."

A small smile played on her lips before she leaned in, kissing me briefly. Barely a second passed before Van and Shauna felt the need to make vomiting sounds from behind us, making us pull apart.

"Get a room!" Van shouted as Shauna laughed.

"I regret them knowing," I said instantly.

"Same," Jackie laughed.

[heavenlyhischier]

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬 - 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 7.6k (i got very carried away im sorry)

summary: after months of feeling like you've lost quinn, he ends up losing you. will the two of you find your back to each other?

warnings: angst, self-destructive tendancies, drinking, cursing, MINORS DNI - 18+ content below the cut, shower sex, fingering, oral (fem recieving), unprotected sex (use protection guys), teeny bit of a praise kink, brief breath play, please let me know if you see any mistakes. i finished this at 2 am and my vision was a little blurry at that point

note: this is part of my follower celebration! i'm so glad i finally wrote about the future captian of the vancouver canucks please guys im begging you.

Two years ago, you had met Quinn Hughes through a mutual friend, and he’s been a part of your life ever since. In the beginning, the two of you took things slow, wanting to truly get to know each other before getting into a relationship. Quinn wanted to make sure that his intense schedule that involved him being gone for long periods of time wasn’t going to overwhelm you, or make you feel alone. You wanted to make sure that, after all you had gone through, Quinn was going to remain a man of his word and make your relationship work despite the many odds that came with his job. And he did, at first.

For the first year and a half that you were with Quinn, he was texting, calling, facetiming as often as he could when he was gone. If he wasn’t doing something that related to his commitment to the hockey team, he was talking to you in some way. He would send you pictures of the places he would visit with short captions of how he wished you were there with him, and you would always smile at them and tell him that you would be, one day. Though, a few months ago, those texts started to become less frequent, and when you did get them, they sounded forced, almost like they had been rehearsed.

For a while, you tried to reason with yourself. Telling yourself that he was just getting busier, and the stress was getting to him. You tried to understand just how demanding and exhausting his job must be, so you brushed off his deteriorating communication. Instead, you tried to hold onto the hope that when he was finally back home, things were going to go back to normal. Quinn was going to walk back through the door to your shared apartment and hold you until you fell asleep. Then, that stopped happening too.

The first time you realized that Quinn was truly pulling away from you was when he didn’t come straight home after a seven day roadie. He hadn’t even told you that he was close to home yet. You only found out because Natalie had posted a snapchat story of JT holding Owen, and you were immediately dialing your boyfriend's phone number. Your heart sank when it only rang three times before cutting to his bland voicemail message.

You remember spending the rest of that night crying into your pillow, thoughts of what you could have done to make him distance himself from you clouding your brain. You knew that hockey players had an abysmal reputation, but you have never lumped Quinn into that group of men. You’ve always thought the world of him, considering yourself lucky to have the luxury of being loved by him. This had you questioning everything you thought you knew about him. When he came home later that night, he gave you a half-assed apology and explanation followed by a string of kisses that had you melting back into him.

Though even that started to dwindle, and eventually it stopped all together. When Quinn was home in Vancouver, he rarely made the effort to spend time with you, and when he did, it was almost like he wasn’t there. His face would always be buried in his phone, or he’d be playing video games with his friends and you’d simply be sitting next to him on the couch. Quinn had stopped trying to plan dates, and honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone on one with him. You could barely remember the last time the two of you had shared a kiss that was more than the obligatory chaste peck on the lips before bed. 

You tried to reassure yourself and ignore the aching in your chest, but the way he put as much distance as he possibly could between the two of you, the less you were able to do that. Eventually, you’d decided that enough was enough, and if it felt like you weren’t in a relationship, then you weren’t going to be in one. No matter how badly it hurt. 

The thought of breaking up with Quinn made you feel like someone was holding your head under water. The panic settling into your chest as you realized that you couldn’t breathe; your lungs burning the longer you went without any air. No matter how hard you tried to break the surface and gasp for air, your head was only shoved deeper and deeper into the water until you realized that the only escape was leaving him. Leaving the man you were still in love with was the only way for you to be able to breathe again. 

When he finally came home that night, he didn’t even notice you sitting at the table, his head shoved in his phone as he walked through the door. “Quinn,” Your quiet voice bounced off the walls of your home. His head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise that you were still awake at this hour, but you continued, “We need to talk.”

“Okay,” He drew out, brows knitting together in confusion as he slipped his phone into his pocket, “What’s this about?”

His eyes darted throughout the apartment, and you watched as his shoulders fell when he realized that stuff was missing from all over. Your stuff. With Quinn avoiding your home like it was, or rather you were, the plague, it gave you enough time to gather everything you’d brought over with you, and temporarily move it into a friend's apartment until you could find your own. Despite the multiple breaks you had to take because you kept breaking down, you managed to do it all in one day.

“I think you know what it’s about,” You chewed at your bottom lip, blinking rapidly to keep yourself from crying.

“Baby, I-,” He tried as he reached over the table to grab your hand, but you quickly cut him off. The chair scraped against the floor as you abruptly stood, shoving his outstretched hand away from you.

“Don’t call me that,” You spat, vision blurring from the tears, “You can’t call me that anymore.”

“What are you trying to say,” He asked, his voice breaking, and that made you angry.

How dare he act like he was hurt when all he’s been doing is hurting you? He put you in this position. He pushed you away, made you feel like he didn’t want you anymore. He did this, and he doesn’t get to act like he’s the one that’s hurting.

“I’m saying that we’re done, Quinn. I’m breaking up with you,” You asserted through the salty streams falling down your cheeks. Though the words tasted bitter as they came out, you felt a slight, very very slight, sense of relief wash over you as you said the words out loud.

Your words hung over his head as you fell into an uncomfortable silence, eyes staying trained on him as you waited for a response. He stood at the table with his palms pressed against the wood, head down as he let out a shaky breath followed by a weak question.

“What do you mean ‘Why’,” You scoffed, shooting daggers into the top of his head, “Quinn, you’ve barely said a full sentence to me in the last week. You don’t talk to me when you’re gone anymore. Hell, half the time I don’t even know you guys are back unless someone posts about it. I just- It just feels like you don’t want this anymore, and that’s okay, but what you’ve been doing isn’t.”

“No,” He breathed out, his voice small and broken as he shook his head, “No, it’s not and I’m sorry. I don’t- Fuck, Y/N, I don’t know what to say right now. I lo-“

“Please don’t,” You interrupted, tearing your gaze away from him as you choked on your own cries, “Please stop, Quinn. I can’t do it anymore. I love you so much, but it’s gotten to a point that the person I fell in love with is gone even though he’s right in front of me.”

A part of you did want him to beg you to stay, to beg you to give him another chance because he will change. He will change as long as it means he got to have you, and he couldn’t live without you. But the more logical part of you was holding the spear, and it was telling you that you were doing the best thing for you. That leaving Quinn, while it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, it was the right decision for you.

“I’ve already got all of my stuff moved out,” Your voice cut through the thick silence, “You’re not home much so it made it pretty easy.”

You couldn’t help but throw the jab in there, but it was only to cover the thinly veiled agony that was truly going on in your heart and bleeding into the rest of your body. You didn’t want Quinn to know that saying goodbye to him was like death by a thousand cuts, and so you masked the pain the only way you knew how. With anger.

“I wish you and your team the best in the rest of the season, I really do. But I think it would be better for both of us if we don’t talk after this.”

Not waiting for his response, you made a slight show to toss the key to what was now his apartment onto the table in front of him, the gentle ding of the metal hitting the wood echoing through the empty room, before walking out of the door. You’d barely made it into the elevator by the time your feelings washed over you an aggressive wave that came seemingly out of nowhere and everywhere all at once. You were thankful that the ride down to the bottom was quick and no one else joined you, and that the main lobby was only occupied by the security guard who’s more than likely seen his fair share of crying women.

That night, you went to your friend's apartment and broke down into a mess of screams, tears, and pain. She held you as you cried, held your hair as you threw up, held your hand through the shower curtain because you didn’t want to be alone. She stood by you in your most desperate time of need, and she made it her own personal goal to maim the hockey player should she ever see him again.

Quinn didn’t text or call you, but you knew that he wasn’t doing the greatest for the first few weeks after your breakup. Petey and Brock had both called to check on you once they had figured out what had their teammate in the state he was in. They asked how you were doing, and not-so-subtly mentioned that Quinn wasn’t any better off than you were. Though, they quickly learned to not mention him unless they wanted to listen to you call them obscene words before ending the call and ignoring them for a few days. You knew their intentions were good, but you didn’t want to hear about how “awful” Quinn was.

If he had acted like he cared about you half as much as his friends were telling you he did, maybe you would have made the effort to ask about him. If he loved you half as much as they said he did, but he didn’t. And he’s made that clear to you. Of course you know you told him that you thought it best if the two of you didn’t talk anymore, but you had secretly hoped he wouldn’t listen. That he would be calling you and texting you, begging you to come back. Telling you how in love he was with you, but it was complete and utter radio silence.

Eventually, you were able to pick yourself back up enough to find your own apartment. Leila had insisted that you staying with her was never going to be a problem, but you knew you couldn’t stay there forever. You needed to try and move on from him, even though you weren’t quite ready to let go of him yet. You needed to try and find yourself again, and you couldn’t do that sleeping in the guest bed of your best friend and her boyfriend's apartment.

Leila’s worried eyes were practically carved into your skull at this point, but you didn’t blame her. She’s had to pick you up, physically and emotionally, more times than she had anticipated when you initially turned up at her door with puffy cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Though she should have realized how deeply hurt you were the fourth time she held you after you had woken up thinking that your breakup was a nightmare, only to realize that it was reality that haunted your dreams.

No matter how hard you tried to forget about Quinn Hughes, the city you lived in was as riddled with memories and reminders of what once was. He was on every street you walked, in every store window you passed by. He was everywhere, and it made you feel like there was a shard of glass piercing your heart, unrelenting and unmoving. You wanted nothing more than to forget about the man who had torn your heart in two, and you were willing to do anything to do that.

The bar air that clung to your body was sticky with alcohol and sweat, but you didn’t seem to mind as you moved your hips to the beat of whatever terrible remix they were playing. The unnamed man behind you had his hands planted firmly on your waist, but you didn’t pay him any mind as you let yourself dance. The alcohol swimming through your veins aiding your ability to forget about all of the hurt you had yet to heal from.

For the last three months, you often found yourself in some sort of bar or club to drink your pain away. It was cliche, but you hadn’t stumbled upon any other outlet that allowed you to forget about the constant ache in your chest. Leila had tried to guide you towards less self-destructive ways of healing, but you didn’t listen to her. This way was guaranteed to ease your heartbreak, at least for the night and that was all you needed.

“I’m Wren,” The man yelled into your ear, an off-putting smirk slapped on his less than desirable features.

Your mouth dropped open, the blood pounding in your ears covering the music entirely. It was too close. His name was too similar, and it made the one thing you were trying to forget flood itself into your head. Images of Quinn and memories of the way his voice sounded pushed their way to the forefront mind, and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

Without another word, you pushed the man away from you and scrambled towards the exit of the bar. Your vision turned bleary and clouded, from the tears or the alcohol, you weren’t sure. Ignoring the worried calls from strangers you shoved past, you rushed out into the crisp Vancouver air.

You stumbled over into the mostly empty alleyway, clutching at your chest as your back came in contact with the brick wall. You were aware of the many lingering eyes on you, but the feeling that was consuming you made their attention appear miniscule and irrelevant. All you could think about was Quinn and how he never even fought to be with you. How he gave you up so easily.

Leila’s boyfriend had seen you run out of the bar, and immediately darted towards the bathroom so he could grab her. With the help of a few random women, he was able to get her attention much faster, and she was rushing out of the bar and leaving him to close their tab. Leila heard you before she saw you, and that alone made her chest burn for you.

“Honey,” She delicately approached you, her voice calm and collected, “What happened?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue, but nothing was coming out but strangled breaths and mangled cries. Despite having seen you in this position more times than she could count, it broke Leila’s heart all the same. She maneuvered your body so that she could pull you into her lap, ignoring the fact that she was sitting on the ground in a dirty alley. She began rubbing soothing circles on your back and instructed you to try and follow her breathing pattern.

Once you were able to catch your breath, you let out an almost incoherent, “Why didn’t he come back?”

Leila was able to calm you down enough to get you back to your apartment nearly an hour later. She kept insisting that you just come home with her, but you already felt guilty enough for intruding so much on her personal life. You knew she didn’t mind, but you did, so you managed to convince her that you would be okay by yourself, and that you would call her if you needed her. Though, she wasn’t the person you ended up calling.

“You have reached the voicemail box of Quinn Hughes. Please leave a message after the tone.”

“I hate you, Quinn,” You started, your voice already raspy from the moments prior, “I hate you so much for making me believe that you ever loved me back the way that I loved you. I thought we were forever, you know. That’s what you told me. That we would get married and have our own family, but we saw how that turned out. It was never going to be me, was it?

“I just wished you would have had the balls to tell me that you fell out of love with me, if you ever did in the first place, or found someone else or whatever the fuck happened. It would have made it a hell of a lot easier knowing that I, or you, did something to make you not stop loving me. It’s just- The worst fucking part about all of this is, is that I’m still so in love with you that it physically hurts me to be without you, but that doesn’t matter does it?

“Fuck. I don’t even know why I’m doing this. I guess I'm just trying to give myself closure so that I can really move on from you. I don’t know that I’ll ever stop loving you, but I’m going to try.”

Hanging up the phone, you threw it onto your couch and let out a gut wrenching sob that ripped through the stillness of your apartment. You fell to your knees and let everything you had been bottling up for the last three months bleed out of you. The world spun around you, your lungs burning as you gasped for air. Your fingers grasped at anything they could possibly wrap themselves around in an attempt to keep yourself steady.

You felt as if you were back to square one, and you hated that all it took was some man having a name that too closely resembled his. It was stupid, you thought, blatantly pathetic how easily you were thrown back into the fire you had done your best to crawl out of. You had almost healed all of the cuts Quinn’s treatment of you had left in your heart, but now they were gaping open once again.

Minutes passed by, or maybe hours you weren’t sure, and you had fallen into a limp ball on the floor of your living room. You had no energy to move from the spot as silent tears escaped their previous confinement. You stared lifelessly at the ceiling above you, mind too tired to fight off the dangerous thoughts floating about inside your head. It was only when sleep finally graced you that you were able to escape the pain of what-ifs.

The following morning, you were rudely awoken by someone aggressively and relentlessly knocking on your door. The sound ricocheted across the nearly empty walls of your apartment, and worsened the already excruciating pounding in your head. Pushing your tired body off the floor, you let out a quiet groan as nausea rippled from your core.

You passed by a mirror that Leila insisted you hang, and you outwardly cringed at your appearance. Your face swollen from last night's breakdown, and your makeup was smudged all across your face. Needless to say, your unwarranted guest was not going to get a presentable version of you.

Not bothering to check the peephole, you pulled the door open and time froze all around you. Quinn stood there with his hands in his pockets, head covered by the hood of his blue Canucks hoodie. His face was decorated with overgrown facial hair and deep set bags had found places underneath his eyes. Truly, he looked awful, but the sight of him in front of you made the already growing ball of nausea burst.

Quinn watched as your eyes simultaneously widened and hardened with an undetectable emotion, but he’s sure he could guess what it was. When he had woken up that morning, the last thing he’d expected to see was a missed call from you, let alone a voicemail. He’d listened to it a dozen times before calling Petey, asking him what he should do.

After a lecture that closely resembled the one he had already gotten from his teammate months prior that was followed by words of encouragement, he set off to your apartment. He only knew your address because Brock had accidentally let it slip when they passed by it one night. Truthfully, Quinn was expecting you to not answer the door or to slam it shut in his face when you saw him. That he was prepared for, but what he did not prepare himself for was you darting to the bathroom.

He stood in the hallway, conflicting emotions battling with each other as the sound of you retching reached his ears. He wanted to follow after you and comfort you like he’d done many times before, but he also didn’t want to make you even more uncomfortable than you undoubtedly were already. He opted to step inside and wait for you in the living room, preparing himself for whatever you were going to throw at him.

You were heaving into the toilet, panic running through every nerve in your body as you tried to focus on breathing rather than throwing up. The last person you had expected to show up at your door was here now, and you left him standing in the hallway. A million thoughts ran through your mind as you flushed the toilet, pushing yourself up off the floor for the second time in the last fifteen minutes.

Why was Quinn here? How was he here? You never gave him your address. Though a brief reminder that Brock knew where you lived was enough to answer that question for you, but nothing you could come up with answered why. You remember leaving him a voicemail in your drunken meltdown, but you couldn’t wrap your head around just what had gotten him to seek you out.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for far too long, and you wondered if Quinn was still here. You’d heard the door shut, but you couldn’t figure out if the footsteps that followed were inside your apartment or in the hallway. After quickly brushing your teeth and convincing yourself that he had left, you stepped back into the living room and were proven wrong. He had settled into the spot on the couch that he chose every time if he could; closest to the kitchen. His leg was anxiously bouncing up and down, and he was biting at his fingernails. 

“What are you doing here,” You called out, nails digging into the palm of your hand as a way to keep yourself grounded.

The sound of your voice had Quinn’s head turning on a swivel before he was standing and taking a few steps towards you, but he stopped when you stepped backwards. He swallowed thickly, knowing that he was already treading through very dangerous waters by showing up at your apartment unannounced, and he didn’t want to do anything to further worsen that.

He instantly registered the tortured look in your eyes because it was the same one he’s been sporting since you left. Quinn knows he’s to blame for the downfall of your relationship. He should have fought harder. He should have fought, period, but he had his own reason for letting you go.

“You called me last night,” He started.

“I was drunk,” You firmly stated, heart beating loudly in your chest, “It didn’t mean anything.” You were lying, and he knew that, too. Quinn could always tell when you were lying.

“It meant something to me,” He rushed out, “Hearing your voice- Hearing you say that you thought I never loved you ripped me to pieces. I know I don’t deserve it, but can you please listen to my explanation? I know it won’t repair the damage I’ve done, but please. I was too scared before, but I’m not now.”

He rasped your name out like it was something sacred, like it held the entire world within its syllables. His eyes were glassy and filled with unshed tears as they bore into your own. He could tell that your heart and brain were at war with each other by the way you kept taking sharp breaths, and your eyes kept flitting away from him. 

“I don’t know, Quinn. I’m trying to move on, and hearing you out will only undo all of the work I’ve put into doing that,” You tried, turning away from him but still staying in the living room.

“I know, baby,” The nickname tumbled out before he could stop it, sending a jab to your chest, “I know, but please. I will leave you alone after, if that’s what you really want. I’ll do whatever you want.”

You weighed your options in your head before letting out a hesitant, “Okay. I’ll listen, but if I want you to leave after, you’ll go?”

Your heart had won this battle, but you’re relying on your brain to save it later if need be. The sound of his approaching footsteps made the breath catch in your throat, but the feeling of his hand sliding into your own sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body. Your head snapped to his own, your eyes full of anxiety and familiarity.

He gently pulled you over to the couch, dropping your hand so that you could sit as far away from as you wanted. The air was crawling with nerves from both parties, but the lack of anger radiating off of you brought him some sort of comfort as he gathered his thoughts. Though, in your defense, you could never be angry at Quinn, no matter how badly he hurt you.

“I know that no apology can fix the hurt I’ve caused you, but I am sorry. I am so sorry for pulling away from you instead of talking to you. I never fell out of love with you, ever. Not then, and not now. Do you want to know the best thing that’s ever happened to me? It isn't hockey. It isn’t money. It’s you, and that terrified me. I was so scared that I was going to screw everything up.”

You opened your mouth to interrupt him, but he cast you a stern glare and shook his head before continuing, “I never let that bother me until I overheard you talking to Leila about marriage and children, and I got scared. I started questioning if I was good enough for you. If I was even good for you. I’m gone so much with the team, and I’ve already missed so many of your accomplishments because I was on the road.

“I started thinking about us having kids. How many appointments would I miss? What if I missed the birth? What if I missed the baby’s first steps? I couldn’t imagine putting you through all of that by yourself, so I started pulling away. Was it a good idea? Absolutely not, but it made sense to me. I thought I was going to save you from heartbreak in the future, but all I did was cause it now instead.

“I didn’t call after you left because I thought I did the right thing. I thought I was doing what was best for you, but then I heard your voice this morning and I knew I had to fix it, if you’d let me. I couldn’t let you think that I never loved you, because I do. I love you so much, and I will do anything to prove that to you, should you give me the chance.”

You sat there in silence, digesting the words that had just been said to you as you let out quiet sobs. For nearly the last year, you had believed that Quinn didn’t love you, and now he was saying the exact opposite. He was begging for another chance, and that was what you had wanted, right? It still was, but the damage that was done wasn’t going to be easily fixable. You would have to start back at the beginning, and you’re not sure if Quinn was willing to do that.

“Baby,” He whispered, your silence lighting his skin on fire with nerves, “I don’t know what’s going through your head, but I want you to know that I meant what I said. I will do whatever it takes to fix this mess I created. Anything.”

The gears were turning in your head, trying to conjure any sort of coherent thought to tell him that you wanted this, but you were scared. You’d put so much faith and trust into Quinn, and he tore all of that down out of fear. What if he did that again?

“I want to,” You whispered, “I do, but what if you do it again? I can’t go through it all over, Quinn. I felt like I was going to die without you, and I can’t go through losing you all over again if you get scared.”

You felt his weight lift off the sofa, and before you realized what was going on, he was wedging himself in between your legs in front of you. He cupped both of your cheeks in his hands so you were looking at him, and you swear you blacked out for a second. Just because Quinn had hurt you, doesn’t mean the effect he had on you went away.

“You won’t lose me ever again, okay? My heart belongs to you. My heart beats for you. I promise to love you for the rest of my life, even if you don’t love me for the rest of yours.”

His hands were still on your cheeks as you gulped down the lump in your throat, his pleading eyes darting all across your face. Lucky for you, your heart and your brain had linked together as you let out an almost silent, “Kiss me, please.”

And he did. Quinn’s lips were on yours in an instant, hands dropping down so he could pull you into his chest. The kiss was full of desperation and months of lost time as the two of you clung to each other. He was holding your hips so tightly that you’re fairly certain they were going to bruise, but you didn’t mind. You were pulling him into you just as desperately, afraid that he was somehow going to disappear from right in front of you.

He briefly pulled away so that he could sit on the couch, pulling you into his lap not long after. He quickly reattached his lips to yours, and he kissed you with so much fervor that it had your head spinning. You could feel some of your sadness melting away, being replaced by passion and desire for the man underneath you. Almost as if a switch had flipped within you. You shifted your hips on his lap, and a throaty moan escaped his swollen lips as he slightly threw his head back.

“Be careful with that,” He let out a breathy laugh, “You know what that does to me.”

There was a teasing glint in your eye as you spoke, “I know.”

“Fuck me,” He groaned, subtly moving your hips against him.

“If you insist,” You drew out, leaning down to ghost your lips over his neck.

He threw his head back against the couch and screwed his eyes shut as your warm breath fanned across his neck. Your eyes flicked up to his face, and you couldn’t help but let a mischievous smirk form before dragging your tongue across the expanse of his neck. He let out a string of profanities as you latched your mouth onto the spot you knew would send him spiraling, but you quickly pulled away and hopped off of him.

“I need to take a shower,” You announced, a teasing tone to your voice, “I’m still gross from the bar.”

Quinn’s eyes snapped open, watching as you began to walk away. Only when he heard you ask if you were going to join did he jump off the couch and scramble after you. He shed his clothes as he followed you to the bathroom, leaving a trail of fabric in his wake. By the time he had reached your bathroom, you’d already turned the shower on and rid yourself of your own clothes.

“I do not deserve you,” He mumbled as his eyes raked over your naked body. 

He’d already memorized every dip and curve of you, but he always treated it as if he was seeing all of you for the first time. Your body captivated him in all of the best ways, and it left Quinn breathless every time you graced him with it. He considered it a privilege to be able to bear witness to the Goddess of a woman in front of him, and he worshiped it like it was.

Despite all that has happened between the two of you, you still felt comfortable enough to share this part of you with Quinn. Unlike the guys who had seen you naked before, none of them treated it the way he did. He never made you feel insecure, and he always made every other part of you feel just as loved as your body. He admired your character, and even your flaws, all the same.

“You gonna stand there or are you going to join me,” You teased as you stepped into the shower. 

The water enveloped you like a welcomed hug, and you let out a sigh of relief as the stickiness from last night was washed away. You were facing towards the shower, eyes closed and head tilted back. You heard the curtain rings slide against the rod before you felt Quinn’s chest pressed against your back. You wiggled against his hardened length, and he took your teasing as a green light.

His fingers trailed up along your hip, across your waist before dancing over your breast. He made a point to slightly lift his touch so he just barely grazed your nipple, and you let out a whine when he did. His hand briefly paused when he reached your collarbone as if he was going to change his mind, but he carefully wrapped his fingers around your neck and leaned down to brush his lips against your ear.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” He whispered before dipping his head down and attaching his lips to your neck.

While one hand tilted your neck to give him better access, his free hand trailed down your stomach and towards your center. The knot in your stomach grew the closer he got, but he was taking his time with you. Relishing in the moment he never thought he would have again.

“Quinn,” You whimpered, “Please.”

“Please what, baby? I need you to use your words for me,” He briefly broke his contact with your neck.

“I need you to touch me, please,” You were begging him, needing him to give you the release that no other man has before.

“Good girl.”

He slid one finger into you, an almost pornagraphic moan echoing off the tiles of your bathroom. You threw your head back against his shoulder, gripping at the slick shower wall for any sort of support before your knees buckled from under you. He carefully moved his digit inside of you, stretching your walls so he could add another.

“Jesus, baby. You’re so tight,” He groaned into your ear.

“‘S because no one’s touched me- Oh fuck,” You cried out as he inserted another finger, “No one’s touched me since the last time you did.”

Quinn knew he shouldn’t be as turned on by that as he was, but he couldn’t help it. Knowing that you didn’t let another man have you the way that he did only made him harder, and he didn’t think that was possible.

You were writhing against him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, your moans filling his ears like they were his favorite song. He moved his thumb to press against your clit, and it was then that Quinn had to use his own strength to keep you standing. He worked his fingers against you, and he’s gotten you to the finish line enough times to know that you were already just about there, so he didn’t stop.

“Oh my god,” You cried out as his thumb rubbed circles and his fingers curled inside of you, “I’m almost the-Fuck.”

“I know, pretty girl. I know,” He murmured, keeping his pace steady.

Your legs are shaking and your vision becomes spotty as the knot inside you comes undone. He captures your lips with his own as you come all over his fingers, kissing you with the same amount of passion he’d had before everything happened. He was still supporting you with the hand that was previously on your neck, but you slowly regained the strength to support yourself as you came down from your high.

“You okay,” He asked, turning you around so that the water was no longer hitting your front.

“More than okay,” You gave him a sloppy smile, still slightly dazed from your orgasm.

“Good, because that was only the beginning,” He smirked, switching places with you so he could back you into the corner of your shower.

You watched as he turned and shifted the shower head so that it was spraying against the two of you as much. You pulled your brows together in confusion as you questioned him, “What about you?”

“What about me,” He feigned confusion as he slowly fell to his knees.

“You know what,” You quietly spoke, eyes wide in anticipation as his hands gripped your thighs.

“I’m getting all I need, baby. Don’t worry,” He glanced up at you, eyes sparkling with pleasure.

His fingers trailed against your thighs that were wet with a mix of water and your own juices. Goosebumps rose in wake of his touch, sending a shiver throughout your entire body. You kept glancing down at him with your lip pulled between your teeth, your heart still rapidly beating from your orgasm only minutes ago.

Quinn spread your legs with his hands before placing feathered kisses on the inside of your thighs, eliciting a few breathless moans from you. He stopped when he got against your aching core, his breath hitting it as he spared you one more glance.

With a swift movement, he was lifting your leg over his shoulder and then he was diving into you like it was his last meal. His facial hair was tickling your inner thighs, but all it did was add to the sensation flowing through your body. His hands were gripping at your legs to not only keep you steady, but to give him something to hold on to.

He was devouring you in a way that made it seem like he was enjoying it more than you were, but you highly doubted that to be true. His tongue worked against as he led you to yet another orgasm, mouth sucking and swirling in all of the right places. You tugged on his hair as you felt the familiar fire burning in your stomach, your head hitting against the tile wall.

Your second orgasm ripped through your body, rendering you temporarily blind yet again. He carefully placed your leg back beneath you, placing open mouth kisses against your stomach as he stood leaving behind a mixture of his saliva and your cum against your skin. He attacked your lips with his own in a dizzying kiss, his hands cupping and squeezing at your breasts.

“I’ve missed you so much,” He mumbled against your lips as he placed his forehead on yours.

“I missed you too. So much, Quinn,” Your eyes became misty with tears, but you tried to push them back.

“I’m not trying to ruin the moment or anything, but thank you for giving me a second chance. I definitely don’t deserve one, but I will keep my promise and do whatever it takes to win you back.”

You pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to his lips before saying, “Well, you can start by properly fucking me.”

The softness in Quinn’s eyes darkened to something full of desire and lust, but he still managed to keep the look of pure admiration and love. His hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you into his chest and meeting your lips with a hungry kiss. You could feel him pressed against your thigh, and it made the already wet pool between your legs worsen.

“Need you to hold on to me baby. Wanna look at you,” He instructed as he pulled away, gesturing for you to wrap your arms around his neck, “Good girl.”

Quinn rubbed himself between your folds, teasing your entrance and watching your face twist in desire and want. Slowly, he pushed himself inside of you and let out a mangled moan as your walls clenched around him. He paused and let you readjust to his size, doing his best to remain still and not roughly jerk his hips back.

“Move,” You whimpered, bucking your hips forward for any sort of friction, “Please move.”

With your pleading, Quinn was pulling himself nearly all the way out and slamming back in at a pace he knew you both liked. His thrusts were hard and deep, filling you in just the right way to leave you gasping for more. He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it on his hips to allow himself a better angle, and you swear you blacked out for a second. You were grateful for the strength he has from hockey or you’re certain you’d both be on the floor by now.

Your loud moans mixed with his own, surely filling the entirety of your apartment with the sound. A part of you hoped your neighbors couldn't hear, but a bigger part of you didn’t care. You finally had him back, and the both of you were making up for lost time. His hips snapped against your own as he brought his free hand back up to your neck, squeezing at the sides with the pressure he knew wouldn't hurt you.

You were clenching around him, sending him into a fit of blinding, white hot ecstasy. No matter times Quinn had imagined you when he fucked his own hand, it was absolutely nothing compared the real thing. Watching as your eyes screwed shut and his name fell from your lips in desperate whines was a sight he would never get tired of.

“Oh my god, Quinn,” You shakily cried out, your eyes rolling backwards and the top of your head hitting against the shower wall as he thrusted into you, “Jesus, fuck.”

“Such a pretty girl,” He praised as his hand dove between your bodies, his fingers coming to rub at the bundle of nerves, “You look so pretty wrapped around me, you know that? Fuck, you feel so good.”

You were gripping at his back as he split you open, your vision coming in and out as he rubbed at your overstimulated clit and repeatedly slammed into you. Your name was tumbling from his lips in grunts, only tightening the coil in your stomach as his forehead dropped to your shoulder. You could feel the heat swirling inside you as he rammed himself into you, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Quinn, I’m going to- I’m gonna,” You stuttered as he worked himself deeper, harder.

“I know, baby. Let go,” He whispered your name like it was holy and just, “Come all over my cock, pretty girl.”

His words sent you flying over the edge, your third orgasm of the night sending you into a fit of unmistakable pleasure. Waves of contractions washed over your body as Quinn fucked you through your orgasm, his own crashing over him not too far after. His thrusts became sloppy and slow as he came inside of you, his head burying itself into the crook of your neck as he let out stifled moans against the skin.

You’re not sure how long you clung to each other with him still inside you, sounds of your heavy breathing replacing the previous moans that were probably still echoing somewhere in your apartment. However, what felt like hours but was probably not even five minutes later, Quinn pulled himself out of you, guiding your still shaking leg back down and keeping your body upright.

“Time to get cleaned up, yeah,” He teased, his thumb and forefinger coming up to grab your chin.

“Good thing we’re already in the shower,” You bantered back, eyelids slowly drooping courteous of the man in front of you. 

You lazily pulled Quinn back into your hold, meeting his lips for yet another searing kiss. Yet this time, there was no desperation. There was no hunger. There was only love, and hope. Hope that, despite the damage that has been caused, the two of you will return to the best version of yourselves and let yourselves be happy without worry or fear.

again, please let me know if you see any mistakes. and let me know what you think! xoxox

[nintendonut1]

I absolutely despise making posts like these, I just turned 35 years old and have little room in my life for online drama, but this has gotten to the point where folks' actual safety has become a legit concern of mine, so I don't think I can let this go without saying something.

At this point, for everyone in the SMRPG sub-fandom, or any other fandoms, honestly, it's probably a safe bet to block Yoylecake420 wherever you see them.

I don't have time for details or screenshots, I'll just summarize my personal experience with them.

At first, I got plenty of asks from them about their hyperfixations here on tumblr. I'm busy as hell, so most of them got lost in my inbox, and the ones I saw I had little time to entertain with an answer.

Then, they joined my Discord about a month ago, where they were active in sharing their art and stuff. Then me and the mods caught wind of them sending unsolicited DMs and friend requests to various members of the server, often with uncomfortable topics. We gave them a fair warning to stop. They did not.

This repeated behavior ended in a ban from the server. During this, they were also repeatedly making a mockery of my webcomic's OCs by making uncomfortable art/captions and submitting the characters to Kiss-Marry-Kill-style blogs despite me asking them not to, so I blocked them on Discord, Tumblr, deviantArt, and Art Fight. I know this is small potatoes compared to harassing people, but it's important context for the following.

A day after the ban from my server, they joined up the Spiderforest server, knowing I'm a part of that webcomic community. I was even warned by the mods, who were aware of Yoyle's behavior as they had already been messaging the SF tumblr about my comic.

A week later, they joined ComicFury, and replied to me on the forum, complimenting my work. Like nothing had ever happened. Like I didn't have them blocked everywhere else. Like they hadn't fully disrespected me, my work, and my community.

I directly messaged them telling them to leave me alone. Their response was a slight apology, but also admitting to being obsessed with my work, having a hard time moving on, and, ultimately, wanting the attention.

So. There it is. It pains me, knowing this is giving them the attention they want, but I'm too fucking old for games like that and the need for me to look out for everyone's safety is more important.

Yoyle is a person who does not care about others' personal boundaries. If you ignore them, they persist. If you tell them to stop, they do for a day or two, and then persist again. And if you block them, they'll evade it and stalk you to somewhere else on the internet.

Of course, it's not my place to tell anyone how to interact with others, but I am suggesting a pre-emptive block if you make, at the very least, Geno fanart, and aren't interested in being harassed across multiple platforms and having your boundaries stomped on. I do not suggest interacting with them, as they are the embodiment of "give them an inch and they'll take a mile."

I've got one screenshot here from a friend of all their alt accounts (this is publicly available on their main tumblr) for any pre-emptive blocking on those sites:

[muffinrecord]

Current Plans + Musings

I don't plan on playing Exedra to the degree I did for Magia Record, or playing it at all. Because of that, I won't be taking an active role in the community and archiving anything for it. Of course, if Exedra has like amazing gameplay and stories then this is all subject to change, but for now I think I'm done with phone games.

The two youtube channels will stay up and I'll check em periodically to make sure there aren't copyright strikes against the content. I've saved all my raw files, especially for the battle animations, so I can remake them in the future if the music ever becomes a problem for some reason.

Google Drive will stay up until Google rots away. I haven't recorded footage in a long time (as in stories, I do for the character doppels and such), but I'll upload things if they're sent to me.

Magia Union Translations still plans on translating things and making videos, especially leading up to the end, but also for after the game is over for whatever wasn't made in time. I'm not sure what form this will take in the future-- if it'll be manual captions added to the videos or not, but I know it WILL happen.

As for this blog, I'm not going to delete it or anything. However I'm going to be taking a step back. I'd like to say that I'll do liveblogs but I mean... *gestures at blog* I've been saying that for years and the only one I really did successfully was the Oriko one lmao. Ahhh oh well.

I'll have more words later, but it was really fun to be part of a fandom experience like this. I'm excited to work on my own original story projects though and quiet down a bit.

...

When I started this blog, I never expected it to have people actually read it. Or look at it. I just wanted a place to gush about how much fun I was having. I didn't even want to tag the posts with "Magia Record" at first because I was terrified people would be mean at me, haha.

But I'm glad I did. I made so many good friends through this game. I'm glad it existed. And it made me happy to have a place where people cared about what I had to say. Some folks actually got their news from here, can you imagine that? They had notifications turned on for this blog. My god.

Anyways, I'm going to be here for the next two months, and tomorrow I'll start reblogging fan projects and initiatives, plus general news. Maybe this blog will turn into a dumping site for art and fanfic reblogs, who knows. I might watch the remaining stuff and add various thoughts here and there.

Otherwise, you can find me on my main blog @malignmuffin, which only reblogs stuff (I don't talk much if at all there). I have another tumblr blog for my comic, but I think I'll reshare the name once I actually have content you can look at on it. It's pretty bare bones for the moment.

Actually it'll be funny if the end of this game is what makes me finally work on it again. I was in the process of working on it when NA came out, and it totally derailed me. Stopped writing, drawing, just focused on this silly little phone game. Now it's like those five years have gone by and I'm going back to where I started, except I think my lil comic is going to be a bit better than it was before. If I actually make it, that is.

If I ever do actually make my comic and start posting it, I'll be sure to update y'all here. hah

Anyways, thanks for being on this wild ride with me. The memories have been great, and I'm glad I had this experience, even if it had to end.

[lovexdeepspace]

birthday celebration | rafayel

summary - rafayel knew the perfect way to repay you for all that you had done for his birthday

warnings - absolutely none save for the fact of how self-indulgent this is

note - i'm a raf girly til the end and with my birthday being the day after his plus the cute little birthday stuff in-game, this was a must. after this, i will start working on the many lovely requests i've been sent! it's such an honor to have been welcomed so warmly into the community!! <3

!! divider by @cafekitsune !!

"rafayel, where are we going?"

with his hands covering your eyes, you were helpless as he led you down what could only be described as a beaten path given how many times you almost tripped. as if you questioning his plans gave any indication you could see, he tightened his hold.

"for the third time now, it's a surprise," he stressed, tapping your temples with his thumbs. "don't you trust me?"

you chuckled and replied, "well, seeing as this whole escapade started because you faked an emergency to get me to rush over, not really."

your smile grew when you heard rafayel huff behind you and you could just imagine the way his cheeks were puffed out.

"it's all part of my plan! you'll see," he retorted, directing you to the right and muttering, "there was a rock."

you laughed and reached up, gently patting his hands. "alright, alright, i trust you. though i hope you know i've got the slightest inclination on what this excursion is for."

"i'd be more concerned if you didn't, honestly," rafayel shot back, suddenly stopping. "i'm gonna take my hands away so close your eyes. don't open them until i say so, got it?"

you nodded, shutting your eyes as asked. you felt rafayel slowly peel his hands away from your face, then take them back as soon as he was sure your eyes were shut. excitement coursed through you as you heard hurried footsteps go from behind you to in front of you, then a bit of a ways away.

"raf?" you called out after a moment, brows furrowing as you grew slightly impatient.

"alright, alright, open your eyes!"

blinking a few times to adjust to the bright sunlight, you gasped when you were able to make out the sight of an elaborate picnic set up overlooking the most picturesque field of flowers you'd ever seen. sitting atop a checkered blanket you recognized from rafayel's studio sat an array of your favorite foods, two glasses, an expensive looking bottle of wine, and the man himself, grinning with his arms spread.

"well? what do ya think?" he asked, extending a hand for you to take. as soon as you got over the initial shock you put your hand in his and allowed him to pull you down next to him. "i found this spot months ago, right before i met you. i was at a real low in creativity and other aspects in life but this view sparked such a vivid inspiration that i thought nothing could rival it."

as he spoke you drank in the scenery, in complete awe of such raw beauty. hues of red, blue, yellow, and green stretched as far as the eye could see, illuminated by the early afternoon sun. you didn't dare pry your eyes away from such a sight, even as rafayel dropped his head to your shoulder.

"how wrong i was," he continued, his fingers lacing between yours. "it was as if the world said 'hold my beer, i got this'. then, bam, you appeared a couple days later! now all sights come second to the one i've got sitting right next to me."

with an embarrassed chuckle you give his hand a loving squeeze, resting your cheek atop his head. with his free hand, rafayel reached behind him and grabbed a small box. he toyed with the ribbon for a second before putting it in your lap gently.

"happy birthday, my love," he whispered, gesturing to the box. you used your free hand to untie the box, opening it to reveal a sole cupcake adorned with red-yellow buttercream and a beautiful gold-pink pearl crowning it. "you always know how to make me feel so special and i can only hope that this—" he gestured to the cupcake, then to the picnic, then the field, "—shows you how much i appreciate you."

[yooniesim]

I'm sitting here thinking about a pretty age-old debate on simblr... the race of sims that have black hairstyles, particularly in cc preview pics.

I know it's been talked about repeatedly, but when it comes to cc previews for paid cc I think it's especially worth talking about. Some people say, well, the creator only uses a few different sim models each time, it's not like they're intending to be racist or something. It's just for convenience, because they're busy, they're hustling, they gotta pay their bills. They always use the same sim, so it's fine. But like... isn't that gross to y'all? Someone making money off of black hairstyles, but they can't even be assed to go in cas for 15 mins to make a black sim? Isn't that a prime example of appropriation of black culture for profit? Like the human aspect of us as a person is gone, it's just another part of us being advertised and sold. Black hair makes money, black hair cc is limited, it will sell and nothing else matters. It feels like black hairstyles are some kind of trend with them too, because none of these creators made them before it was possible to profit off of them... back then it was "too hard" just like now it's apparently "too hard" to make a different preview sim.

Also, it's not lost of me that when a creator does make a black sim for their previews, they're as light skinned and white looking as possible. Whether just by skintone, very eurocentric features (like they just gave a white sim slightly darker skin), vitiligo to make most of the skin light, or claiming the sim has albinism. And while some of this I'm sure is just finding that aesthetic more "pretty", I also think this has to do with potential sales. I'm going to be honest... besides engagement by black simblr itself, I've noticed a lot of posts I have get less engagement/reblogs if the sim in question has darker skin and darker hair. It's much more likely to pick up in the mainstream cc finds blogs/YouTube videos etc, if the content is for white sims or the sim has lighter skin and light hair. I don't care about engagement and simply make whatever sim I want to make, and since I do have that variety, it's how I noticed this strange trend. And with the volume of content paywall creators make, I think they noticed this too. Posts with lighter skinned sims get better engagement, and thus, make more money.

Have you ever noticed, even in paywalled cc packs, there will usually be a sort of token effect? One white sim, one ethnically ambiguous sim, one black sim. This is great if you're showing off something that will vary for different skintones- makeup and skin details, for example- but why is it always like this? And why is the variety usually only in previews for cc packs instead of solo items (like hairs)? It feels like it's all to sell better, to appeal to different demographics and say, hey, I didn't forget poc exist! Please pay for my content! It feels disgenuine, and since creators like this rarely engage with the community anymore besides paid content, it's hard to figure out whether they feel this way or not.

Personally, I don't care much what people do in their own games- I might look at them weird for a sec, but I move on, cos it's their issue not mine. But like many other aspects to this community, when it crosses over into paid content, it sparks my interest. It feels like everything, everything, is about maximizing profit now. And for the people that focus on that, that's their prerogative and all, I can't exactly stop them, but. It's just something I observed and wouldn't mind discussing with y'all.

(Note: I don't apply the "profiting off black culture" part to black creators, obviously. Also no hate to any creators that do this stuff. Be reasonable adults, please. I'm just discussing in a constructive criticism type of way.)