kafe-ting--coffee-writing
hai hai! Chiyo here, feel free to pop in!!! Writer, coffee and tea addict.
Content warnings are dead dove do not eat, please heed them!!
hai hai!!! Welcome to kafe-ting, my lil writing and yapping blog, and this chaotic book+cat cafe. I'm Chiyo, your resident writer, caffiene addict, gamer and barista here!!
On here, some of my writings have warnings, so please heed them, this is a dead dove do not eat situation. Some of them can be triggering, so if you are triggered or don't like them, PLEASE DO NOT READ and then send hate. I will block you if you do.
Feel free to pop in and send me dms or an ask ab anything, so long as it doesn't touches my private life or info, asks ab what i like and such are fine, and nothing discriminatory please!!!
my current fandoms are: tkdb, hsr, hi3rd, ggz, zzz, twst. I am also in some manga/anime fandoms, but I do tend to forget them.
I have an oc x shion genkai(tkdb) ship, so if you don't like to share him, and more cases where you don't like oc x canon, bai bai!~
kafe-ting: open means feel free. kafe-ting: closed means it'll take quite a while since this resident is dead concurrently!
so the other day i had the most insane shower thought, and that was: what if MC had two personalities?
One cute, sweet, demure. Loves flower crowns, baking, chatting with friends. Helps anyone and everyone out, kind, a bit clumsy, eyes wide with innocence. Takes notes diligently in class, has a study planner, uses a perfume with a sweet scent. makes every ghoul flustered (cause she's so cute!!)
Kaito calls this one "Angel MC".
He calls the other personality "Badass MC".
She's rough, blunt, and sarcastic. Flips off Hyde every time she sees him. She once cursed at Cornelius (Taiga approved). Likes to fight in the pit (Alan disagrees). Once roasted Leo so bad while he was going live that it went viral. Sleeps during class or glares at the teacher if the material's too boring/easy. Tohma spat out his tea when she once nonchalantly called him "bro". Ever since then, she calls every ghoul by "bro" or "'sup, bro?" or "you doin' good, bro?"
Different potential potions will be better/worse depending on what potential percentage you are atttt
0-15~20 Percent
The green
And only the blue one from 15 if you need it that much
20-30 is when you can ambigously use the blue and green ones, priority for green ofc
Over 35 is when u cant use green anymore
Then 35-42~50 is when u use blue
42~50 use pink if desperately needed but priority is blue and pinks are rare!!!
>50 is when you can ambigously use blues and pinks
75 above is when using pinks really shows a difference
it depends on the card bc i have seen diff cards/character cards have diff absorption and output potential percentage rates but blues over 75 shows a decrease in effectiveness as well
I'll take it even further, they don't know most of HSR is just retellings of Buddhist stories and analogies because every single time in ENG, they just mistranslate it. No one knows the Stellaron Hunters' logo is Avalokiteśvara's hands, no one knows the Phantasmoon Games is Wish-Granting Wheel Avalokiteśvara, they don't know Asat is a reference to true death & Hotei / Maitreya because the translations is so weird, it keeps only a minuscule amount of the actual references in check. It was always botched.
YES THERE IS AN ACTIVE SKILLS ACTION PRIORITY. DONT ASK ME WHY.
lemme explain it using rui's card as an example.
every character starts out with 4mp at the start of battle. the mp amount can change depending on characs passive skills.
whats the priority for active skills? well, they are literally.
1. first up
2. 2nd up...etc....
using rui's as an example;
1. curse assault.
2. fire curse
3. vengeance strike
4. attack 2
rui will always do a curse assault unless the requirement for a curse assault is not fulfilled, the rest down will then be triggered unless their requirements are not met.
example:
enter battle with 4mp.
if he has cursed enemies on-field(you would usually achieve this with support, fodders, sub-carries, etc...)
rui will do a curse assault.
>>>he will continue doing this until:
1: curse wears off and no-one to reapply except for him.
>>>in route 1, if there are fire element enemies, he will apply curse on fire element enemies. after that he will do an attack 2 to restore mp because every charc only has 4 mp when they enter field. then curse assault,...etc.
.>>>route 2, if no fire element enemies, he will do vengeance strike if the enemy has killed until he runs out of mp when he will attack 2 and then returns to vengeance strike. if enemy has not killed then he will do attack 2 for the rest of the battle.
2: runs out of mp.
attack 2 to restore mp, then if have cursed enemies
if no cursed enemies on-field but have fire element enemies, he will apply fire curse on the fire element enemies only, then curse assault...etc.
if no fire element go to route 2 of first possibility.
okieee~ if u have any questions feel free to comment ill reply~ bye bye and good night~
⚘ Summery: Once upon a time, you had given your heart to the Forge Master of Zhuming. Three decades together, he had forged you thirty rings and now a blade. The love in his eyes now feel like a distant memory, yet given to you at all time by your now beloved, Blade. Be the man he once was, he can never truly give up the concept of leaving a piece of himself with you.
⚘ Tags: Mainly fluff, themes of angst, fem!Reader, long life specie!Reader, domesticity, Blade is a little touchy, gift-giving, Blade tried to be nonchalant but it didn't work
⚘ Word count: 1k
⚘ A/N: ok i can't write summary, lowk going thru a writer's block so this is all I have 💔💔 and my finals start in two days, anyways everybody go slime @biancak1m
The sound of metal clashing against itself echoes through the workshop. Each strike of the hammer molds molten iron into the weapon he envisions. Yingxing, in particular, holds a very specific design in mind.
After all, this is a blade he’s forging for his wife—crafted from a blend of leftover scraps and the expensive metals he painstakingly saved up for. The thought alone has him practically beaming as he shapes it into form.
The stars, however, remain silent. In the dead of night, no sign of life stirs—save for Yingxing himself. The relentless ringing of metal is enough to irritate anyone.
And oh, does it bother you.
“Yingxing, come to bed. It’s two in the morning,” you call out, voice thick with sleep. Aeons know what he’s thrown himself into this time—a commission? A personal project? A gift for a friend? If only he devoted himself to rest with the same fervor.
The Forge Master’s focus finally drifts from the glowing metal at the sound of your voice. There’s a glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you—hair disheveled from sleep, expression pinched with irritation, clearly dragged from yet another failed attempt at rest. You lean against the workshop doorway like you belong there.
Perhaps you do. Anything he owns is yours.
He flashes you a grin—one you know well, one that hides more than it reveals. “Thirty more minutes. This one isn’t finished yet,” he says, words punctuated by the steady rhythm of his hammer.
A sigh slips past your lips, resignation settling in. You already know how the next thirty minutes will go—spent by the fireplace, waiting for him to return.
Retreating to the living room, you settle by the fire, watching it crackle as it slowly devours the wood. At some point, without realizing it, sleep claims you.
Until a hand brushes your cheek.
A quiet murmur of your name follows.
It doesn’t take long to recognize the voice—you’ve been married to this man for over thirty years. You know him in every form.
“Lovely, look what I’ve made for you.”
Your eyes flutter open, vision still hazy. The sight before you is familiar—Yingxing kneeling before you, gazing up with quiet anticipation, waiting for you to ask about his latest creation.
Your mind barely processes his words, but you recognize that look. You’ve seen it countless times. Before you can respond, something heavy settles onto your lap.
A blade.
Forged from the remains of Glamoth’s Empress, mixed with fragments of her Iron Cavalry. Its intricate designs weave together like a story—thirty years of memories etched into steel.
Your fingers trace the surface as though it were something fragile. The blade itself may not be delicate, but the intention behind it certainly is.
And the way he looks at you—hopeful, expectant, yearning for even the smallest praise—says everything.
What a lovesick man Yingxing is.
For someone driven by vengeance, his heart beats for something far softer.
A gentle smile graces your lips as you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.
“It’s beautiful, my darling.” Your praise makes his heart stutter—you’re certain of it.
The grin that spreads across his face is full of pride, bordering on arrogance—not just in the blade, but in the fact that he’s made you happy.
You watch as his hand slips into the pocket of his tailcoat.
“I have something else for you,” he says, pulling something out—only to immediately hide it in his fist.
Like a familiar ritual, the motion repeats itself. His calloused hand takes yours, gently placing the object into your palm.
A ring.
Gold, with a delicately carved crane. Your heart aches at the sight.
Another one.
“Another?” you ask softly, the question echoing through thirty anniversaries—thirty rings he’s forged just for you.
None of them fit. But that was never the point. Each one is proof. Tangible, unwavering proof of your love.
“Another one,” he echoes, arms slipping around your waist. “And another next year. I’ll keep forging them until the very end—so we’ll never forget the years we shared.”
His words are muffled against your clothes, but they carry the same warmth they always have. Three decades, and not once has that love wavered.
The end of you… may only be the end of him.
You will live on—long enough to watch empires rise and fall, to witness the Borisin meet their end someday.
But his life, his fleeting eternity, all you can hope for is to spend it beside him.
Yingxing loves you.
Truly.
And he will love you until the very end.
A soft gasp escapes you before you fully awaken, eyes fluttering open to meet the pale gauze surrounding you. You shift slightly, pulling away from the fabric.
“Are you feeling alright?” The deep, slightly raspy voice is unmistakable.
After all, the man beside you is your beloved—Blade.
You hum softly, trying to steady yourself. There’s no reason to feel this way—not over a memory like that.
And yet… Something unfamiliar lingers in your chest.
“I had a sweet dream about you…” you murmur, almost hoping he doesn’t catch it.
But he does. You know it by the way his hand finds yours.
Ever since Blade accepted Shuhu’s curse and turned his focus toward destroying the Abomination, his body has changed—healing, stabilizing. Especially his hands.
And with that, you’ve gained something unexpected. A Blade who reaches for you. Whether in public or private, his hand is always in yours now.
“A ‘sweet’ dream about me is enough to upset you?” he asks. There’s no irritation in his tone—only concern.
For someone named Blade, he is unbearably gentle with you. And the thought that he might be the cause of your distress unsettles him more than anything.
A soft laugh escapes you as his free hand idly plays with your hair. “It was bittersweet,” you reply, shifting closer before burying your face against his chest.
He huffs quietly, unconvinced, sensing the lingering weight in your voice. Another memory? He doesn’t know. So instead, he pulls you closer—tightens his hold, presses a quiet kiss to the crown of your head, mirroring what you once did for him when the Mara consumed him.
“Go back to sleep. We have things to do tomorrow,” he murmurs, masking his intentions beneath casual words.
“…Silverwolf wants us to play with her.” The hesitation gives him away. Because that’s not what matters, these events have been reoccurring for days now.
Your anniversary is only hours away. And you know he has something prepared—something he cannot put into words, but will try to forge into existence all the same.
Because he will love you for eternity. Whether as Yingxing or Blade, that cursed heart still carries something untainted, something pure at all its forms— and that is you.
I had to do a little digging for this. The article leaves the victims name out but mentions a go fund me.
I was able to find an article mentioning his name that directly linked to his gofundme https://www.the-independent.com/news/world/americas/crime/larsen-sohail-muslim-utah-stabbing-b3015105.html his name is Sohail if you have any money to help his recovery
https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-sohails-recovery-after-hate-crime-attack please keep him in your thoughts and donate if you are able
Sohail is a devoted husband and father who has always worked hard to supp… Luna Nunez needs your support for Support Sohail’s Recovery After
Hello, how are you? I hope I am not bothering you.
I am writing to you as I am living through the hardest moments of my life. Hashem is slowly dying in front of my eyes and our children. He needs an urgent surgery, and I am helpless to save him.
Please, your donation and sharing of our story could be the reason my husband's life is saved. Our children deserve not to lose their father.
Being asexual and racist is embarassing as fuck. Being racist at all is obviously embarassing as fuck but the amount of racism and especially antiblackness i have been seeing from asexuals recently is obscene.
One of the only asexual activists is Yasmin Benoit, a Black woman. She has raised so much awareness for the community. She was the first asexual person to lead Pride in London, she started the #thisiswhatasexuallookslike movement and is THE leading voice for the community.
And you all will celebrate international asexuality day on April 6th but we wouldn't even have that if she hadn't cofounded it.
Edit: why are you all too scared to repost this. Cmon. Be vocal about being against racism
Edit 2: if you feel the need to announce in the comments that you're not reblogging for whatever reason just know that I genuinely do not care.
But also know that I will look through your account and if I notice that youre actively a racist or you just dont reblog stuff about that I will ridicule you in a reblog. Idc idc. Not reblogging is fine but if you feel the need ti announce it youre annoying asf.
Edit 3: seeing as you guys need evidence that white queers are sometimes racist
in hindsight, growing up as an aromantic person who didn't know aromanticism was a thing...it woulda been really easy for me to assume that something was wrong with me, that I was "broken" or "missing" some piece of humanity.
luckily I was autistic, oblivious, and had a huge ego. it literally never occurred to me to frame it as a "me" problem. i just thought every single person i knew was a dumbass
hehe this is my debut drabble for my tkdb oc, Tsubaki!!!~
(clash year, tsubaki is a first year here, before Yuri's transfer)
The halls of Mortkranken are really cold. I've worn all the warm layers I could possibly wear, but my fingertips are still stiff. They are still cold when I reach for the handle towards the common room, where heat from the fireplace emanated like how a firefly's light illuminates the space around it.
She tentatively clasps her hand before retreating back to the hallways of the dormitory, for the heat from that place cannot thaw her fingertips. Their cold glares and hatred radiating towards her would make sure of that.
Her room is still warm, and she only needs to close the door before the remaining warmth takes a chokehold on her, choking her as warm droplets slip past her eyelids, her body curled up fetally on her sheets.
But a reprieve can only stay a reprieve, her life has many more important things she must attend to. The stack of books still lie untouched on her desk, the errands and paperwork she must bring for them sit alongside her bag.
She picks up the paper, the edges torn and the material creased, attesting to how much she has read it, again and again, her only manual on how to exist in this tumultuous world that she has been left in alone and stranded ever since that day where she woke up confused, facing people she has no memory for, an erased existence following her memories, knowing everything but knowing nothing for herself, for her life before the institute is no fact, just memories lost in the Lethe.
They only explained the existence of the hidden world of anomalies and what happened, before she had to throw the rest of her past into the river of forgetting, with no one by her side now, just vague notes from a past so distant it could've been a myth, an abundance of knowledge and a single word; "mai", tomorrow, hers.
OKEIIII NOTESSSSS: juni the chaos gremlin sweetheart helped prrofread this mwah mwah ily, my mind is a jumbled mess, this was written in the middle of the night, yes theorise what you can about her, mwahhh bye byeeee
GUYS, I WANT THE WHOLE WORLD TO SEE THIS!!! one month ago i graduated from art college and defended my thesis on soukoku!!!! it's a stained glass piece, like 100 by 70 centimeters (40 by 28 inches)!! it was the best thing i've ever done in my life!!!
i literally fought my professors so they would let me do this, and it was SO worth it!!!
choosing the idea for my graduation project was a turning point in my life. i wanted my final piece to reflect the most precious thing i carry within me – my love for soukoku. it is inexplicably strong, and without a second thought, i dedicated this major milestone to it.
i never once doubted my plan. i had to defend my sketches before the committee and even pull a few strings just to get this chance. in the end, my persistence won everyone over.
