#enough for me to give it a shot lol

[crehador]

since i can't find one and need to know who to aim for...

list of reverse: 1999 jp dub cast (updated for 1.4)

210 - hirose daisuke 37 - iguchi yuka 6 - nakamura yuuichi

a knight - hayami show alien t - fukuhara anjou an-an lee - sakura ayane apple - hirakawa daisuke arcana - koshimizu ami

baby blue - suzaki aya balloon party - minase inori bette - kanzaki maki bkornblume - ueda reina blonney - saito shuka bunny bunny - ozawa ari

charlie - matsuda satsumi centurion - ikuta teru charlton - nomiya kazunori click - uchiyama kouki constantine - tanaka atsuko cristallo - aimi

darley clatter - yada kouhei diggers - tachibana shinnosuke dikke - kawasumi ayako door - shimizu sakuma druvis iii - ishikawa yui

eagle - noguchi ruriko enigma - umehara yuuichirou erick - tanaka chiemi eternity - fairouz ai

forget me not - suwabe junichi

horropedia - okitsu kazuyuki

isabella - kino hina

jessica - waki azumi john titor - konishi mai

kaalaa baunaa - ootsubo yuka kanjira - akasaki chinatsu kumar - fujitou chika

la source - yuzuki kazuka leilani - tachibana yuki lilya - kitamura eri lucy - suwa ayaka

matilda - itou ayasa medicine pocket - hanae natsuki melania - ueda kana mesmer jr. - kudou haruka mondlicht - tsumugi risa ms. moissan - kohara riko ms. new babel - uchida maaya ms. radio - odashima kazami

necrologist - wakayama shion nick bottom - satou fumiya

oliver fog - nagatsuka takuma onion - horikawa kaede

pavia - nozu pickles - saito soma poltergeist - maekawa ryouko

rabies - takagaki katsuhisa & mugiho anna regulus - yamamoto nozomi ring - sakakihara yuki

satsuki - touyama nao schneider - yuuki aoi shamane - yasumoto hiroki sonetto - uchida shu sophia - kobayashi yuu sotheby - itou miku sputnik - toba yuuko sweetheart - tanaka rie

tennant - takahashi chiaki the fool - nitta kyousuke tooth fairy - uesaka sumire ttt - sumi tomomi jiena twins sleep (lisa & louise) - kamitaka suzuka

vertin - takamori natsumi voyager - hondo kaede

x - toki shunichi

z - liyuu зима - totto

[willowser]

now i wake up by your side—

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 2.8k+

tags: u.a. college au, canon-compliant, reader has a telekinesis/telepathic quirk, references (and potential spoilers) for the current arc in the manga, angst, a lot of secret hidden feelies

tysm to @alrightberries for giving me the opportunity to bring this lil thought of yours to life 🥺 your patience and understanding during the time it took me to write this is so appreciated it, and tbh you're the reason i'm even still here right now LOL you're so sweet, and i hold your kindness so close to my heart. i wish i could convey how much it means to me. i hope i did this even a lil justice !! happy birthday dear !!!! 🥺🩷✨️

Sero dreams of watching the sunrise on top of the Roppongi Observatory.

It’s a beautiful sight, one you’ve never seen with your own eyes, but you soak in the warmth flushing across his cheeks and the anticipated break of morning through the clouds. When he takes in a hefty breath, you feel the spring chill sting inside his chest, crisp and clear, like it’s you breathing instead of him, and it’s almost comforting enough to lull you to sleep, too.

But a clay pot shattering against a nearby bench has your eyes springing open, ripped from the haven you’d been lost to. 

You have to blink several times in order to fight through the exhaustion wearing you thin, but the evening returns to you in small, bleary doses. It’s the middle of the night—or at least it was when you’d first wandered out to the training field, and you can’t be sure how many hours have passed since then. Across the yard, you’ve successfully managed to carry four pots from the garden plot near the entrance all the way to your feet with your Quirk— but number five sits in pieces in the grass.

You’ll have to clean that up by morning or Eraser will make you run laps until you puke. Again.

Kirishima flits through your mind in a suit and tie: not as a Hero, but a spy of some kind, chasing down men with masks covering their faces and wielding a gun that looks odd in his hands, even in his own dream. Despite being back in the dorms, stories up and near the end of the hall, you can see it—hear him yelling out at the criminal to stop, feel the thud of the ground under his feet. His own determination blares through you like a freight train, as strong and damning as he is, and you fight to force yourself back inside your own shoes as you try to carry another pot.

Recovery Girl used to tell you that you did this to yourself: all your worry about losing sleep psyching yourself out of it completely, chasing it away before it even had the chance. When everyone is getting ready for bed, heading out of the common room and hitting the showers, you can feel that suspense building; what will come across tonight while everyone dreams? Fantasies? Or nightmares?

During the day it’s easier to drown out the foot-traffic of everyone’s thoughts—you do it without trying, now—but your brain needs rest, too. Letting go of control for even a second, just to get some shut eye is—

Something frightening is outlined in your peripheral vision, the dash of a pale shape you aren’t able to discern before it’s gone. The air turns metallic and stale and you can hear water sloshing, though you’re nowhere near the pools. All your blood rushes in your ears and your fingers curl, like you’re gripping your seat—gripping the edge of the couch in the common room, where you’d been sitting beside Mina when Kaminari put on that horror movie. The one with the—

“The hell are you doin’?”

Your eyes snap open for the hundredth time that night—show over, credits rolling—and it’s Bakugou. Standing only feet away from the new set of clay shards of your failure, tangible and real and staring at you with an intensity not even your dreams could mimic.

You blink, eyes stinging and heavy. You must look insane. “Oh, hey,” the voice that comes out of you is far-away, chartered off to distant lands, and he notices immediately, focus razor-sharp despite how late it is. “What did you say?”

Bakugou wrinkles his nose, like he’s offended at having to repeat himself. “I said, what the hell are you doin’? It’s nearly 2 in the morning and you’re out here throwin’ shit around in your fuckin’ pajamas.”

Almost on cue, the breeze brushes past your legs, chilly enough to have you shivering, and you peek down at them as if you don’t know what they look like. The sweater you’re wearing is from second year and the U.A. logo is half-worn off, but it’s the comfiest thing you own and if you’re going to be plagued all night by the forced intimacy of your classmates’ dreams—you at least want to be cozy.

When you look back up at him, Bakugou is pointedly looking away, taking interest in something other than your wimpy state of dress. 

It dawns on you then that he’s out here, too, in sweats and a simple back sweatshirt, hair a messy, golden halo in the pale, buzzing field lights. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think his face was a little rosy, but—maybe you’re seeing things.

Still. Being out and away from everyone, alone with Bakugou, makes your stomach tighten horribly. Like you’ve done too many sit-ups.

You try to brush off your sudden bout of shyness, because you know he’ll clock that in no time, too. “Well, I could ask you the same thing.” At the raise of your eyebrows, he only tchs, and casts you a filthy look. “But I think maybe I’ll just mind my own business.”

The face he makes is so awful and hot-blooded that you laugh, truly and earnestly, enough that a headache pulses to life. You wince, and the stream of pain that shoots down the middle of your skull brings back that image of Kirishima’s action-thriller: blood and knives, the sound of skin on skin, a fist against cheekbones, the ugly snap of breaking—

“Oi.”

Bakugou is closer than before, when you’re grounded back inside yourself. At least no pots have been broken this time. Less to clean up.

“Sorry,” you shoot him an apologetic smile that you know he must hate. “It’s just so—” your hand feels like it’s made of lead, but you drag it up to massage slow circles into your temple, trying not to grit your teeth and worsen the pounding in your head. “So loud sometimes.”

He’s silent until the pain ebbs out, and when you can blink without flinching, you peek up to catch how intently he’s watching your face. In the night like this, his eyelashes seem darker, longer, a kind of haunting beauty you would dream about, if you could get some sleep.

Again, you think of Kaminari’s horror movie, legs pressed against Mina’s under the heavy comforter she’d brought down from her room. It’s warm, the kind of pink, fluffy thing you’d imagine a girl like her to have—but it didn’t stop you from shivering every time you chanced a glance at Bakugou and found him already staring back.

The heat in your cheeks spreads to the back of your neck, so immediate that you think you might start sweating. “Dreams and stuff,” you murmur, by way of an explanation, “nightmares, sometimes.”

Bakugou's frown deepens, the muscle in his jaw tightening once as he grits his teeth. “What, you can just…hear that shit all night?”

“Usually,” you shrug, “It just comes in, you know? And I—” you steal another glance at him, aware, then, of just how intrusive you might sound. The veil of privacy is thin between you and others, and they don't often like being reminded of that. “Not for you, though. I don't—I don't get anything from you.”

And it's true, frustratingly enough. Not that you are ever intentionally peeking into anyone's head, but things slip through, occasionally—sudden reactions, wild, loose trains of thought. 

Bakugou's face twists, regardless, and you're reminded of all the times you've been forced to spar together, at Eraser's behest. One of the smartest in your class, quick on his feet and never without a plan; every time you've managed to get a hand on Bakugou, there's been nothing but a sea-shore calm.

It's hard to do and, at this point in your life, you've seen a thousand people try it—but he's the only one that's ever succeeded in keeping you at bay.

Nothing in his expression changes, but all your nerves spread to your voice until it shakes. “You're—I don't look in there, of course, but it's—you've always been…” Bakugou is terrible at taking compliments, you know that, almost as bad as you are at giving them. “Pretty, I guess.”

Awful, at giving them.

Embarrassment floods him, suddenly stained pink as he curls into himself. “Piss off,” he barks, and though he’s scowling at you in what must be disgust—you can’t help but to smile at how aggressively bashful he is.

You almost get the guts to make matters worse, just because you can. Admit how handsome you’ve come to find him, after the last few years, until his face is steaming in the sweet nighttime chill; the kind of intimacy you wouldn’t mind dreaming about again and again.

The absence of his thoughts are a comfort for your tired mind, has all the harsh edges of night fading into something a little easier to swallow, to breathe in. You know he does it on purpose as a strictly defensive move, but you almost want to thank him. For the quiet.

You don’t know if it’s from you or him, but when you reach a hand up to hover near his temple, the air buzzes between you, gently. Charged with that same thing that had you unable to look away from him in the common room only days ago. “In here, I mean,” you murmur, and the smile you pull on feels lame, but it’s as genuine as ever. “I don’t know, I don’t know how you do it. But it’s…nice.”

You’ve seen him die a thousand times.

Mostly in Midoriya’s dreams, sometimes in Eraser’s when he nods off during last period, but that horror—like many others, from that day—stains you all. When dinner is put away and showers are finished and the lights go out and the flood gates open, someone almost always relives the ugliness of it all; you’re more familiar with that moment than you are with any of your own.

Here and now, you close your eyes and see Jirou staring back at you, face beautiful and full of hope. You see Kirishima’s torn suit jacket and the blood on his cheek and the empty gun in his hand, the most dedicated secret agent. Aoyama is dreaming of his mother, something warm that makes you feel like you’re dazzling, too.

And yet—Bakugou is silent. Even right in front of you. Even after everything.

If anyone deserves the peace and quiet, you suppose it ought to be him.

“When’s the last time you got any sleep?”

You blink until his blurry figure is clear, and it’s like you can physically feel whatever energy you had left seeping from your body at the mere mention of sleep. “Maybe a morning or two ago,” you tell him truthfully, “I usually pass out after a few rounds of ‘throwin’ shit around’.”

Bakugou only stares at you as he digests the words, and once he’s gotten them down, he shakes his head before looking out over the mess you’ve made of the training field. With his head turned like this, you can take in the full weight of his scar—the one that’s wide and still baby-pink across his cheek. 

You almost get the guts to tell him he’s handsome. Almost.

Frustration is evident on his face when he looks back at you, but his voice comes out softer than you expect, like he's struggling to get out any words at all. “Can’t keep doin’ this,” he chastises. “Can’t be a Hero if you’re half asleep all the time. Gotta figure this shit out.”

“I am,” you give a lazy wave to your pots, “What’s wrong with this solution?”

“It's ass.”

“Alright, you have any better ideas, pretty boy?”

He bristles, visibly enough to have you snickering, and—you’re not sure what you expect of him; to continue his griping or leave you to your own devices, building his walls up high as he always does. Ever the fighter, ever the protector; maybe it’s a good thing, you tell yourself, because you’re weak like this and one of you needs to be thinking straight.

Despite his flush, there’s a playfulness to his grouchy expression, his raspy tone—and it has you leaning too far into things you don’t know how to name.

You never know what to expect of him.

There’s the slightest brush of skin against the back of your hand, and when you drop your eyes to the slowly-dwindling space between you—the rough pads of his fingers are touching you, gently. Softly enough to be the breeze, if it weren’t so warm.

You’re afraid to look at him, suddenly, like it will break whatever spell the night is casting over both of you; instead you press your lips together to stop their wobbling and the smile fighting to give you away. You’re waiting for that sea-shore calm, that quiet comfort, whatever it is he’s trying to offer you, strangely enough, in this moment. When you turn your hand over to catch his, the air buzzes again and the blood rushes in your ears.

You focus and—all you can see is your own face staring back at you. In a flash, like he’s cycling through his cards in a hurry, trying to find the best one.

You, across the arena during the entrance exam. You, in the locker room before the Sport's Festival. You, sitting in the common room during Christmas. You, ruined with tears and your own blood and covered in grime, on the darkest day of your life.

You, now. On the field in the stale light, prettier than you think you must look, for being so exhausted, the lines of your smile deep as you grin up at him.

—And then there's nothing.

The absence of noise is louder than anything. A stark, white silence that cuts through; a different world trickling away. A single touch and a little focus is all it takes to take root inside someone’s head and that’s always felt like a weapon, but now it feels like coming inside from a snowstorm, relief shuddering down your spine. Everyone else's fears and nerves and heartaches dissolve until they’re only a bitter taste at the back of your throat. Something far, far behind you

There’s just Bakugou. A strong silence that feels impenetrable, invulnerable to the outside. The steady beat of his heart is comforting in a way you didn’t realize it would be, has that bloody, dead-eyed image of him shifting into something else: another moment in Midoriya’s memories, of his silhouette standing in the sun, tall and fierce and alive.

Returned. Here and now with you, after numerous, unforeseen turns of events. You wonder if the ease surrounding you is his own, something else he’s sharing—or if this is just how it feels to be with him after so long. Maybe in the past it was different—you know it was; during the entrance exam, during the Sport’s Festival—but now you feel more relaxed than you ever have. A reminder that, no matter how dark the nights get, the sun is only just beyond the horizon. 

Returned, comforting and quiet.

(You won't know this until much later, but your hand will go slack in Katsuki's and his fingers will tighten around your own because he's not ready to let go yet. When your knees buckle, he'll already be there, awkwardly holding you up against his shoulder as his face flames and his eyes dart around the empty field, checking for any shitty snoops.

Ears is always up damn late, too, and there's a decent chance he'd get caught trying to haul you back to your room on the third fuckin’ floor, so there's really no better option than to gently lower you both to the grass. After a couple of minutes with no movement, the field lights will shut off and only the distant glow of the stars will remain.)

(You won't know this until much later, but Katsuki will arrange the both of you so that your head isn't slumped on the hard ground, but resting on the plush of his bicep, an arm around your shoulders so that the warmth can be shared between you both. His heart will pound hard enough in his chest to be worrisome, and every time you shuffle and scoot closer to him and nudge your nose into his sweater—Katsuki will fight to stay open and true, only honest with you in this wordless way.)

(You won't know this until the sun rises high behind your lids and your bones ache and he’s shown you things he could never say, but it's the best sleep you think you've ever gotten. With him, under the stars, surrounded by his calm and his constant.)

(You won't remember this but in your dream—your real dream, born from with solace Katsuki offers you—the morning will rise and settle in and he'll walk you back to your room despite the stares and in the elevator when you're alone, his lips will touch yours and you'll feel his  heart in your chest and his nerves in your stomach and his fear and relief all in one.)

(And right away, when you wake up, you'll finally have a name for this thing that's been blooming between you both for as long as you can remember—and he will, too.)

[randomnameless]

And people still think Supreme Leader's whole spiel of "weak must be rely on themselves instead of others" is not social darwinism.

Which is even more ridiculous, all things considered given how heavily Supreme Leader herself relies on others - or the "gifts" she "received" from Uncle to launch her war or just - but well, we know how the game is regarding Supreme Leader.

There won't be any situation where she says this and someone, Dimitri or Dedue, ask her if she didn't rely on Hubert and her soldiers/generals to conquer Fodlan... And it's really frustrating, because we see glimpses here'n'there that she doesn't want to take Hubert for granted in their supports - so she knows he trusts and supports her... and yet we still have this nonsensical line.

Sure, Supreme Leader and Hubert can't reach those supports in AM since they're not playable, and that's the kind of artificiality I was berating FE16 for - if Billy didn't pick class X, members of class X will be in some sort of limbo where we don't even know, as a player, what kind of relationship they have with each other - bar the Lions who have lines for each others if one of them is killed, or mourn on screen.

Is Supreme Leader suddenly caring and wondering if Hubert follows her because he wants to and not because it's his duty - because Billy is her teacher, or Supreme Leader, when Billy isn't her teacher, dgaf about Hubert despite him being her right-hand man and more or less managing the war and the Agarthans? I'd say we're closer to the second option, given how she has no fucking line when he died, no mourning, no "they even defeated Hubert... No matter what, I cannot let them win!", nothing.

I mean, after Uncle's fireworks in Tru Piss, Dimitri mourns Rodrigue, Felix and Ingrid (if they weren't recruited). Tru Piss!Claude even doesn't understand and is pissed/upset/saddened because Hilda didn't retreat, Rhea laments the fall of Cyril and Catherine (in GM but not in her IO form for some reason?) and Seteth'n'Flayn's deaths...

Anyways, back to your ask, anon, we're not at the only one "for thee not for me" contradiction with Supreme Leader, but that's her mindset, only using part of what she went through (tfw the "Goddess" abandonned her by not rescuing her from Uncle... which is why she sides with Uncle to get rid of those pesky lizards and their goddess) to justify and motivate her conquest and imperialism in a few words : Git Gud.

Hell, it takes Ferdie's end supports in Tru Piss to have her realise that randoms cannot "Git Gud" if they don't have the means to "Git Gud"!

[the-one-who-lambs]

Ouroboros

Shamura weaves a silk tougher than the steel blade that splinters through their heart eons before their ichor spills, a strength only outmatched by the war-forged diamond. A crystalline illusion, scratched by only itself. A chitinous lie clicks their fangs together. They feel nothing and this reawakens every multitude within them. Sometimes it’s an echo of the paths they left untread, all converging. They return to the beginning and repeat. Others, the violet deceit carved into the floor. They seldom recall his face. Constellations of Could Have Should Have Would Have crown the brows of five four three two but no one every one can see how they’re lost in the labyrinth of their own creation, waiting to be discovered. It would be easier to have someone else to blame, a tombstone to curse, dancing an endless waltz with their own fear. They fletch the arrow and pull the string back and curse the bow when the point strikes, feeling the most alive when their death knell sounds as a vengeful bleat. It repeats and repeats. Beneath the veil it’s him, a fleeting spark of change. They quench it, it explodes. That’s not right. They fan it, it blinks out. War is also their domain. Oh, baby brother, it’s my fault your fault stars wrote our story before I was handed the pen, it’s the moonlight illuminating ouryourmy blood upon your claws. And all that passes is the history of every god you’ve slain, whose prayer on your lips, a mesmerizing mantra to bind you bind me below. Whose chains who waits. Who comes who goes who remembers who knows why you tell of them or me as the master manipulator who sang the praise of your ascent and the requiem of the name you left. They tie him (it’s me. It was always me.) to the fate they sealed for him change is yours to seek. Death cannot flow backwards. Death cannot flow backwards. Death cannot flow backwards, and weep. They wonder who is crying. They find the source of the tears. They carve the binding spell into the floor of their temple. He had a name, what was it? They cannot recall and turn to trace the circle and they repeat and repeat and repeat and the sighs that they are crying. Why are they crying? They retreat into themself, an endless circle. They wonder who is crying. Change is his to seek. They feel themself growing smaller and smaller, gargantuan for a transient moment in time. The Lamb bleats, their his crimson eye unblinking and their breaths whisper louder than ever. This bloodshed is of their own making, a saccharine goodbye spoken as an apology to the wrong person. They do not, in fact, weep. They’ve forgotten what he looks like but they’ll see him soon. The cracks on the walls of their consciousness scream that they’re devouring themself. It doesn’t matter. They will see him again they will see him but only when they

Bite

Down.

[todayisafridaynight]

the sun will explode before rgg starts regularly giving everyone birthdays but they'll absolutely host a funeral event for the dead bitches

[secrettastemakerland]

Fanfic end of year asks! If you don’t mind…

25, 21, 18, 5, 1

Please and thank you❤️

good morning and happy new year, nightowl!!! 💗💗💗

I've already answered questions 1 & 5 (here!) but I can answer the rest!

18) current number of wips

okay so i counted (and as of now) i have 18 wips, including fics that i haven't finished and fics/ideas i've already started 😵 let's see how many of these get posted lol (<<< crying inside)

21) most memorable comment/review

probably Chloe on aftereffect 😂

Omg secret!!! You did it again!!

I didn't know I needed awkward MenmaHina the morning after their !!!one-night stand!!! Omg omg omg 🥺 everything was so perfect and cute and omg they're so obvious and sweet it's hurting me (in a good and addictive way haha)

Can you believe its only day one and this oneshot is already my fav!!?? Ah! Didn't that one coming but I'll accept the blow this masterpiece provides, so thank you ❤️

25) a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read

i'm cheating again (x3) and going to recommend everyone a book series instead! so i have become obsessed with this series, the characters and am excited to say that a show adaption is coming out some time this year!

A Good Girl's Guide To Murder stars Pippa Fitz-Amboi who decides to investigate a murder that happened in her small town of Little Kilton five years ago for her senior year project.

[yuridovewing]

Oh the visual storytelling here is so good. Onestar is such a massive doormat and they literally stand over him. Despite holding the same rank he is expected to just make do with less.

[dawnthefluffyduck]

I'm back :D thanks for the well wishes! I don't know if I really took much of a break from tumblr, but I have completely deleted tiktok and twitter, and I don't plan on bringing them back anytime soon. Hopefully that'll have some more long term benefits bc right now, breaking the habit of checking them regularly is surprisingly tough :') talked to a friend on the phone over the weekend though which was nice, and I cleaned up my room a bit, so I'll be alright ^-^

Doodle and class posts resuming soon; I've got a few drawings I've accrued over the weekend 🎉🎉

[meowthiroth]

so the other day at my doctor’s appointment, I asked about switching to a less scary way of getting my testosterone in (I WAS on intramuscular shots which were working well, but I have a really bad aversion to needles so every shot was like a full-afternoon commitment 😅) and she was explaining to me about topical methods like patches and gel

and she was telling me about how the gel can potentially rub off onto others & affect them if they make skin-to skin contact with your application spot, and the thought that immediately popped into my dumbass brain after hearing that was “me about to trans your gender after coating my fist in T gel”

[shleemies]

Got promoted at work today! I knew they had their eyes on me for a promotion but the circumstances were kind of unfortunate. My coworker with the position found out that the raise was less than she thought, and that's after they screwed up her payroll big-time last week and only paid her for 2 days. So she's transferring back to our old store as an associate bc it's closer to her house and honestly an easier store to work at. So my manager came up to me right after they talked and was like you're getting promoted btw I was like oh okay 👍. And to be fair the raise is kinda shit lol it's 30¢. But to my knowledge it's more or less the work I'm doing anyways. I've never gotten a promotion or a raise before so I'm pretty happy about that. I've only had shitty bosses promise me raises for months and never follow through. And I know they've been wanting to promote me already bc all the higher ups I've worked with really like me and recognize that I work hard. I had a coworker 2 days ago ask if I was a manager because she said I had that vibe about me LOL. I was like no I'm just some guy. Still not a manager but I am a shift lead. Still so worried I'm going to burn out but uhhhh I'm doing well at this point 👍

[longhands]

I know this is silly but like. There’s something about Trigun. Vash is just so… trans. Seeing him actively rebel against what everyone makes him out to be is. Something. He feels so real to me. “When did we become so different?” is something I think about a lot in my own life.

I guess the finale of stampede just gives me this rush I can’t stop thinking about. I felt seen. The person he should be able to trust, be able to talk to, be able to relate to, sees him as misguided. Foolish. More importantly though, Vash is an object instead of a person in that to them, and he says “fuck that” all while holding empathy for them. It’s ugly and sad and self destructive and so real.

Anyway, what i’m saying is if he can do it. Maybe, maybe I can start being brave about my gender. I’m sick of stuffing myself back in the closet for family that thinks I’m a Poor Little Girl. I’m 21. I have been out to my parents for 7 years. I’m going to say what I need to say and I’m gonna start defending myself.

[the-deadlock-south]

i never read patch notes cause im not sweaty like that but i didnt have to in order to feel how NICE lifeweaver plays now

[petrovna-zamo]

https://twitter.com/hyunandra/status/1572273121868288001

just another tweet that made my cry out of happiness for katya today :')

Oh my god thank you so much for sharing this!

Link here to the Tweet photo: x

Link here to the TikTok video: x

Katya deserves everything and more and this was such a meaningful moment for her and I’m so glad she could share it with her parents. Everything we know about her family that she’s shared has told us that they’ve been nothing but loving and supportive and I’m so glad she’s had that in her life and they could see just how loved and how much she means to people. It truly warms my heart to know that they’ve always been there for her and believed in her. It’s so special that they could see their child reach such great heights. They know more than anyone just how much Katya’s been through and all she’s had to overcome to get to where’s she’s at so to see her celebrated in her hometown must feel very full circle. This isn’t the first time she’s said that she didn’t think she’d make it to 30 so to see her at 40 happy and healthy and thriving must be the best feeling in the world. I mean it when I say we’re so so lucky to still have her. Katya brings so much joy to others and is so beloved because of it and for good reason. I hope she feels nothing but love from this experience, I’m so so happy for her.

[electric-plants]

finally trying to get back into hsr again and first quest i did i ended up doing himeko so dirty😭

[edgarallanpoestan]

the want to get into podficcing vs my lack of microphone and lack of knowledge abt how to do it and my many other responsibilities and the fact that i live in a shared dorm room

what if i do it tho

[trashcreatyre]

Didn’t want to post this for whatever reason