#i'm in between 2 and 3 depending how hard it is to find art of blorbo/how overrated squimbus is btw

[anistarrose]

Imagine you're looking for art of Blorbo by venturing into their character tag on Tumblr, but the most recent post is art of Squimbus that's also tagged as Blorbo, presumably "for exposure." Blorbo isn't present at all.

[mingigoo]

1- Mingi

2- High school au

3- Prompts 12, 50, 53, and 56.

4- 18+ (some fluff but also rough?)

5- Reader is shy and a lil depressed while Mingi is one of the popular guys who everyone thinks doesn’t have any emotions but it’s actually a softie. (I love cliches what can I say). Can the genre be Strangers to lovers? Maybe he finds her crying in a classroom and that’s how they met. Also can there be a size kink and voice kink please?

Thank you!

nightmare, daydream || s.mg (m)

📓pairing ⇢ tutor! (fem) reader x popular boy! Mingi

📓 summary ⇢ in the quiet of the school’s art room during lunch time, Mingi accidentally interrupts your vulnerable moment. It was as if your usual invisible self was finally noticed. He intrigued you immensely, and as you are paired up to help tutor him, you find out that he’s much sweeter than he would like to lead on.

📓 genre/au ⇢ strangers to lovers au, high school au, slow burn, smut, angst, some fluff

📓 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ minors DNI, voice kink, slight hand link, size kink, slightly rough sex, teasing, mingi is a secret scaredy-cat, longing, high school lovers, probably more i'm just blanking so please let me know what I missed.

📓 word count ⇢ 11.1k

📓 taglist ⇢  @atinywhore @ch0isa99ie @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @leeknowsnothing @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)

y/n and mingi’s moodboards

The air was crisp as you breathed in, leaves crunching underneath your feet. 

It was still warm out—just between summer and fall. The leaves, however, were already falling, but some were still stuck on the branches like their lives depended on it. You envied their efforts, but yet, you knew they were going to fall just like the rest of them—it was inevitable. 

School had just started like any other year. You weren't exactly happy to go back, but at least it was your last. You wouldn't have to see the faces of your classmates ever again—you never got along with any of them, anyway.

The timing never seemed right. Your life had been a mess since you could remember, but it had just got worse a few days ago when you received the news of your father’s passing. He wasn't involved in your life; you forced yourself not to feel a thing about that man—but death was permanent, and you were terrified of it. If you cried about him, that would make you weak. But maybe, just maybe, bottling up these emotions was going to hurt you more than death ever could.

As you turned the corner to enter the school’s gates, a group of rambunctious boys pushed past you, laughing and carrying on and breaking the dress code. They never seemed to care if their ties were tied right, let alone tucking in their shirts. They always looked so messy to you; disorganized. It sent your hyperfocused mind into a spiral, but you shut it out and continued to make your way inside.

The hallway was bustling more than usual. 

You had a hard time with crowded places.

You pushed past some girls, who, as they always did, glared at you as you passed by. You were used to it, and your mother used to tell you it was because they were jealous. You knew that wasn't the case, rather, it was your backwardness that seemed to get on their nerves more than your beauty. 

You never understood your purpose. Somedays, you weren't even sure you were real. The world felt like it was crumbling around you non-stop, and you didn't know how to feel. You still don't know how to feel the things around you, as if your body didn't deserve it. Your soul didn't deserve it.

Like every other year, you sat down in the back of the classroom, away from those that actually mattered. Those seats should be for the ones that light up the room. 

Maybe it was your OCD, but if you weren't at least fifteen minutes early, you were late. And if you were late, you hated yourself even more than you already did. So, here you were, sitting in an empty classroom while the rest of your classmates carried on in the corridors and made out in the bathrooms—which was disgusting, by the way. Who would ever do that?

The silence felt….comfortable. It was only you and the slight hum of the wind through the open windows. You were too far away to feel it, but you imagined it soaring through your hair, dancing through you. 

But said silence ended after the popular crowd emptied into the room, girls trailing behind the boys like leeches craving blood.

You shivered.

The boys were popular for reasons. Two of them played basketball, the other baseball, and then….

And then there was him.

Mingi wasn't an athlete like his friends, although he had a body like one. You watched him walk into the room like he owned it, his jaw set tightly as his friends cackled about something. You remembered back in middle school when he was small and scrawny—and slightly shorter than you. Now, the boy grew into a man, his muscular frame taking up so much space that it almost suffocated you.

You never saw him smile despite his raging popularity. It was as if he was just….there. He didn't speak much, you noted. He had this aura about him that interested you beyond degree, but yet, you made no effort to dig deeper.

You couldn't help but watch him take his seat on the other side of the room, right next to the open window. He liked sitting by windows. It almost brought a curl to your lips, as his dreary-looking ass always was lit up by the sunlight. He reminded you more of the moon, but not at night. More so, the moon before the sun sets—barely there, but still noticeable. You, on the other hand, weren't even a star in his almost-night sky.

His silvery-grey hair nearly looked blonde in the sunlight, shining smoothly. He made you angry. Everything about him. But he never personally victimized you in any way. He just……never noticed you.

The rest of the class piled in as the warning bell rang, jumping into their seats but still talking to their friends. You remained quiet, your deskmate not even sparing a passing glance at you.

“Good morning, seniors,” the teacher, who you haven't seen before, smiled at everyone. “I bet you're all ecstatic to be back.”

A bunch of groans, complaints, etcetera erupted. You didn't say anything. Your deskmate already had his head down.

And then the teacher looked at you. Only for a second, but long enough. You were first in the class, which no one else seemed to know other than the faculty and staff. You would prefer it that way, but this year, you'll have a lot of attention on you. 

Your eyes traveled to Mingi once more, watching him look out the window with his chin in his hand. He wasn't paying attention one bit.

The classes came and went. Your head hurt by the end of the day, stuffing all the information you learned because that was all you had for the future. University was your only option, your only ‘dream’ if you could call it that.

Art class on the first day was pointless, but you never wanted to leave the room. It was the one thing that you enjoyed deeply. Painting was something you shared with your mother. Your favorite thing to paint was what you saw—little things around that made your heart feel something. 

When it was time to eat lunch, the rest of the kids ran out of the art room, groups of friends having fun together. You watched Mingi and his friends get up, one of them hanging onto his broad, broad shoulders like a jungle gym. His gaze never strayed from his path, even if you were in it. He moved out of the room like a big wave, current pulling everything out of the room except you.

Once everyone was gone, including the teacher, you walked over to the windowsill, seeing the little houseplant holding on to dear life. It was wilting despite getting sunlight. You stood over it, emotionless. Lips turned down, you reached out to touch its dying petals, causing one to fall to its death.

You sucked in a breath, your chest heavy. You've pushed all your emotions so far back that everything was bound to come up at once. You swallowed the lump in your throat, but it wouldn't budge. You felt the pressure behind your eyes while all your bottled-up issues came to the surface—your father’s death being the main event. You hated him for everything that he did, but he was still your father. He was….still something to you. 

You sank to the floor, embarrassed, overwhelmed. Your soul felt heavier than ever, as if it just wanted to break away and leave this godforsaken world. The tears trailed down your cheeks even though you tried so hard to hold them back. It was okay to cry, it was okay. It's normal. Cry it out, cry it out, you'll feel better—

“...oh,” a deep voice rumbled through your body, causing you to take in a sharp breath and look up.��

There he was, filling up the whole doorframe like a giant. You breathed in deeply, but the tears kept falling and falling. He stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked concerned, though, and it was at that moment, in the art room, that your invisible self became visible—at least to somebody. 

“I….I’m sorry, I just came to grab my jacket,” he mumbled softly, gently. It caught you off guard. His presence felt oddly comforting. The look on his pretty face made you want to cry even more.

You slowly nodded, and he hesitantly entered the dim room, cautiously making his way to his easel to grab his jacket. You watched him, sniffling, beyond embarrassed. He tried not to look at you, you noticed, and you assumed it was because you looked like an absolute weirdo crying on the floor, in an art room, on the first day of classes.

And when you thought he was going to leave, he stopped dead in the doorway, his big, muscular shoulders tightening.

And then he turned around.

“I can….I can stay, if you want,” he hummed, his deep voice rippling through you. You looked up into his serious gaze, furrowing your eyebrows. 

You wanted to ask him why. Why would someone like him spare a moment of his precious time to stay with a crying weird girl? Clearly, he was concerned; it was apparent on his face. It was just….so strange that he looked in your direction, especially at a time like this. 

In a moment of weakness, you slightly nodded your head, forcing a smile—which may have looked more like a grimace. He took your nod as an okay and sat on the windowsill, keeping his distance. You looked up at him, tears still falling, but he wasn't looking at you. He was sitting with contentment, arms crossed over his chest with that emotionless face he always sported. You watched his foot, how it anxiously tapped against the floor, and how he just….made his large presence feel small.

You opened your mouth, trying to justify yourself. You didn't even know each other like this—you never spoke more than a sentence to each other before. You felt like you needed to explain why you were crying because if you didn't, he probably would've thought of you as that weirdo everyone believed you were.

“You don't have to tell me why,” he spoke, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying more.

You blinked up at him as he spoke, feeling his tone rumble through you. You had nothing to say—and that was okay. You both sat in the quiet room for some time, way longer than you thought he would stay, until your tears dried. The bell rang soon after, and he stood up hesitantly.

He gave you a genuine look of worry—but not pity. 

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” he hummed at the door over his shoulder, tilting his head. “Don't be ashamed for feeling something.”

And then he left as if he were never there. The room felt even colder than it did before as if his presence warmed it. You smiled to yourself, his words hitting you deeply.

It was that moment when you declared that you were completely, irrevocably intrigued by him. He was all you thought about, all you noticed.

Like a daydream to your nightmare.

— 

You watched Mingi the next day in homeroom again. This time, the sun didn't dare peek through the curtains of the clouds as they cried.

He sat with his head down on the desk, his eyes closed in his effort to sleep. His eyebrows were scrunched as if he couldn't let his mind rest. You wanted to ease him, just like he eased you yesterday.

He looked so beautiful, even on a rainy day. You knew he didn't have an umbrella today, as his hair was damp. He also looked cold, which struck you by surprise. He was so….large…if you could put it that way. You might have been jumping to conclusions when you assumed he couldn't get cold because of the sheer size of his body, but maybe it was because he seemed so warm to you. Like a comforting hug.

Without warning, his sleepy eyes started to open slowly, meeting your gaze from across the loud, busy room. You didn't move your stare away—you just kept on admiring him without words, taking notice of how the crease between his eyes eased just by looking at you. You didn't smile or speak. Neither did he. He just sat there, his head down still, but his eyes sparkled like they always did. As his friends carried on around him, he kept quiet, watching you from a distance. 

The moment felt like forever, and when the first class began, He still kept his eyes on you.

—

That weekend, you ventured your way around on a mission to enjoy your favorite midnight snack. The convenience store on the corner always had the best selection of snacks, but tonight, you opted for just a banana milk. As you grabbed one, another large hand encased one next to you, startling you.

You looked to your right, Mingi standing there emotionless—but his eyes sparkled with mischief. 

“Banana milk, huh?” he tilted his head, his gaze analyzing you like a work of art. You wondered if he thought of you as one. “I thought you'd be more of a strawberry girl.”

You blinked, confused. He was talking to you like a normal human being. You furrowed your brows as you looked at him, filtering your response.

“I like strawberry, too,” you admitted, giving him a confused glance before making your way to the register. He followed, a decent distance away from you, his body nearly twice the size of yours. Surprisingly, once again, his presence was far from intimidating. 

He stepped in front of you as you went to pay, setting down his strawberry milk with yours. You were about to question his actions, but then he handed the worker money, paying for you without saying anything. You frowned but kept your mouth shut, knowing that he was just being kind. You did begin to worry if he did this out of pity.

You walked out of the store together, sitting down on the stoop outside. You sat shoulder to shoulder in silence, sipping on your milk comfortably. It has been a long time since you felt comfortable in silence with someone. It was nice.

You looked over at him as he stared straight ahead towards the road in front of you, his pretty, silver hair shining under the street lights. 

“What’s your name?” he hummed gently, genuinely. You tried your best not to be insulted, but you tried to look at it in his view—in a room filled with a bunch of others, you probably never caught his eye enough to reach his curiosity. 

You blinked at him, trying hard not to show any specific emotion. “y/n,” you stated, taking a sip of your banana milk. 

He nodded, looking forward. He muttered your name as if he was trying to engrave it into his mind.

“y/n,” he murmured, nodding. You tried so hard not to feel butterflies.

After a moment of silence, you sat and watched him, probably weird to anyone other than you. But you looked at him, saw how he scrunched his nose as he looked forward, how his plump lips parted as he breathed. You noticed everything he did and didn't do.

“You're different than I thought you were,” you spoke, still staring at him. He moved his gaze to you, looking down through his long, dark eyelashes. You admired his beauty, having no reason to hide it. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, still looking perfect. His expression lacked emotion, as if he had a hard time with it. “And how did you think I was?”

You shrugged, maintaining eye contact. You hated to hide your feelings, feeling as if it were pointless. He seemed like someone you could confide in, but maybe that was because you admired him for a long time. “I don't know, I just assumed you lacked a sense of humanity.”

He looked confused. “I…I don't get what you mean.”

“You were always so unreal to me,” you shrugged again, looking from his hair to his large hands holding onto the tiny milk. “Robotic-like.”

He nodded as if he agreed with you. You weren't the best at expressing yourself, but you had hoped he took your reasoning as a compliment.

More silence. You finished off your drink as he spoke once more.

“How are you?”

A simple question. A question usually asked without a care, just small talk. This time, however, he turned his body towards you, genuinely asking.

You looked away from him shyly. “I’m alright now,” you paused, refraining from saying more. “How are you?”

He sighed, looking forward. “I’m also alright. But I have detention tomorrow because I threw a basketball at some dickhead who thought it was okay to bully someone.”

You nearly smiled. 

“That's not fair,” you hummed softly. “You were standing up for them, and you get the shit end of the stick.” 

Mingi shrugged. “Violence still wasn't the answer,” he smiled, almost painfully. “I’m working on that.”

You admired him more than ever.

He stood up, towering over you. “I’ll see you at school, yeah?”

Your mind ran a mile a minute with everything you wanted to say to him. Yet, you kept your lips sealed and smiled.

“Yes,” you grinned. “I’ll see you, Mingi.”

—

“Miss y/n,” your homeroom teacher called for you as you walked down the hall, catching your attention. “Can I speak to you quickly?”

You nodded, knowing it was probably something to do with grades or planning some sort of event. You followed him into the empty classroom while he rummaged through some papers.

“I need you to tutor one of your classmates,” he spoke, still ruffling through a mess of papers until he found what he was looking for. “He requested you when I brought up the idea of getting tutored, so I hope you'll be interested. It’ll look great on your college application, of course.”

You furrowed your brows. “Who requested me? What’s the subject?”

“Uh…who was it…who was it—Ah, yes, Song Mingi. He’s struggling with chemistry.”

There you go again—as if it were fate. You were tangled with him once more, your mind circling back to him. You have never been involved with anyone to this degree, and the fact that Mingi requested you made it even more interesting.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll do it.”

You walked out of the classroom, a smile nearly reaching your lips. Things were getting interesting—you were starting to feel like a real high school student and not just some fly on the wall that everyone tried to ignore—or swat at.

In the chemistry lab, Mingi sat his ginormous ass down next to you, letting out a sigh as he did it. You received a few weird looks from your classmates, who were probably wondering why the hell the popular Song Mingi was paying attention to the creepy art freak.

Or maybe you were thinking way too far into things.

“Hello, tutor,” he whispered deeply, tossing his notebook onto the table in front of you. He looked extra nice today—his hair was styled, so his forehead was showing. You took notice of the delicate birthmark on his cheek and how something so small made a huge impact on beauty.

You blinked at him, not an ounce of fear in your body. “Your face is pretty,” you spoke softly, admiring him. You didn't exactly mean to blurt that out, but hey, it was true. Why should you act like you didn't find him breathtaking? 

He looked taken aback by the random spew of admiration as if he’d never heard it before. His usually expressionless face brightened up, but only slightly. “You think I’m pretty?”

You nodded curtly, biting the corner of your lip. “Yeah, I’m sure everyone does.”

“Yes, but,” he rubbed his fingers against the spiral of his notebook, causing your attention to go to his long, gorgeous fingers. “Everyone else doesn't matter.”

You frowned, unsure what he meant by that. You didn't even have time to ask, anyway, as the teacher came in and started the lesson. Your eyes focused on his hands, his clean nails, his movements. He couldn't seem to stay still and had to move at least his fingers or his foot. It made you warm and fuzzy that such a big man had such human habits.

When you started the daily experiment, you bumped elbows with Mingi. He shied away, rather than you, and looked at you with a lost expression. You began to work together, but as your thoughts began to move to the idea of Mingi’s hands on you, all over you, you accidentally knocked over the beaker of chemicals. You shrieked back, bumping into Mingi’s chest, and as if it were a reflex, he held your shoulders tightly as if to protect you.

“What happened?” the teacher inquired, and you turned to her, Mingi still embracing you from his enormous height. It was then you realized how much smaller you were—your head only reaching his shoulder. 

You tried to form words, but nothing came out. Instead, mingi apologized. “I’m sorry, I accidentally caused y/n to knock over the beaker.”

The teacher looked irritated, but sighed in response. “All right, thank goodness it’s only Acetic Acid. Can you both please grab some cleaning materials in the janitor's closet down the hall? I cannot leave the room while administering chemicals.”

You looked up at Mingi, pulling yourself away from his grip awkwardly. You nodded, taking off your goggles before nearly running out of the room, Mingi following suit.

You reached the room, opening the small door as quickly as you could. You didn't know how close Mingi was, and when you felt his breath hit the top of your head, you tripped up, pulling him into the closet with you. 

You landed on top of his muscular body, feeling his warmth through your clothes. He let out a grunt right by your ear, creating a mess of dirty thoughts in your mind. You looked down at him, and when you saw that gorgeous, slight smirk on his pretty lips, you swallowed the lump in your throat. His smile was so beautiful—maybe because it was rare.

You were quite literally on top of the Song Mingi.

“Hi,” he mumbled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“....hi,” you peeped out, suddenly aware of your breath and your weight. You didn't even get the chance to get off of him when the door suddenly shut, causing you to jump.

You looked at him one more time, watching his gaze drop to your mouth, before tossing yourself off of him to open the door—but it was locked, and you were stuck, all alone with the one man you thought about more than anyone.

“Is that….is that locked?” Mingi pushed himself up on his palms, looking so delicious it was eating you up from the inside. 

You tried to open the door over and over again, and after the millionth time, you sighed. “Yep.” 

And then he laughed—a deep, childlike rumble that tickled your brain. You looked at him with wide eyes as he stood up in the small closet, inches away from you. It was dully lit by the lightbulb above, orange hues drowning his strong features. You noticed little specks of gold in his eyes like he was carved by the gods, decorated with glamour. You wanted to reach out and glide a hand down his cheek just to feel his skin. He looked unreal in horrible closet lighting. You wondered what you looked like to him.

“What is it?” his deep voice rumbled, a questioning tone. “Do I…..make you nervous?”

He took a step closer to you, but you did not step back. You tilted your head up more, gazing straight into his intoxicating eyes.

“Maybe,” you admitted, biting the inside of your cheek. “Yes.” 

“Why?”

“Because you're attractive,” you admitted with ease, making him smile even more. You felt butterflies from his gaze, knowing that you were the cause of his grin. “You make a lot of people nervous.”

He looked conflicted—his hand twitched at his side, begging to touch you. The amount of chemistry flowing between you now was more than the amount spilled on the linoleum, and you felt the electric shock simmering through your soul.

He sighed, eyes dancing across your features.  “You're so…interesting,” he whispered, his hand finally breaking the bone-crushing lack of touch. His fingers delicately glided up your arm, but stayed there. You ached for them to move all over you.

You frowned, wondering what he meant. “In a good way?” you asked him, your voice small.

He didn't answer you—maybe he didn't know, either. Maybe his interest was something his brain could not comprehend, similar to how he captivated you. You were both vastly different—from different worlds. But yet….this feeling between you was undeniable.

His hand met your shoulder now, sending a chill down your spine. Why was he…why was he touching you on his own accord, why was he looking at you like that?

Your chest tightened, his expression unreadable. His breath tickled you, his cologne powerful. You closed your eyes on impulse, taking in this feeling, these senses, this ache in your chest that you have never felt before.

Before Mingi acted on his impulses, the door swung open, and you shoved him against the other wall, turning around quickly. 

“There you are. I was wondering if everything was okay,” the teacher huffed, calling you both out of the closet. You couldn't even remember walking back to the classroom, but you vividly remembered the feeling of his hands on you—and wondered about where else those fingers could go.

—

The next few days, Mingi sat with you at your lunch table—which was usually just you or someone else at the end who didn't have anything to do with you. It caused a lot of commotion; his friends were confused at the table across the room, and girls began to chit-chat while glaring.

You didn't mind; it was nothing. People were allowed to look and talk. It doesn't make you any less of a person.

Mingi rested his head on his palm across from you, flipping through his chemistry notebook aggressively. He didn't speak, he just made irritated noises. You smiled at him—probably the only person you ever showed this much emotion to.

“What are you confused about?” you asked him as you took a bite of your lunch, noticing that his tray was completely filled without a single bite taken.

He sighed, looking up at you for a second longer than a friend should've. He blinked, brushing away the hair that covered his eyes, before dropping his gaze back to the textbook.

“I just don't understand any of this,” he mumbled, his tone worrisome. You noticed his feelings more than your own—your heart ached to tell him that it’ll be okay. That he shouldn't worry. 

But you weren't anything to him—he just learned your name while you knew his everything.

You leaned forward, hearing the soft breaths leave his lips. You tried your best to read the backward words, succeeding after a long moment. 

“Ah, Ionic bonds?” you reiterated, meeting his gaze. He nodded, looking at you instead of his book. You ignored his intense stare. “Do you know the linkage?”

He just stared at you, his eyes twinkling. His expression lacked any sort of emotion, but somehow, you felt as if he was captivated—like an artist appreciating his artwork.

“Anyway,” you forced yourself to continue, holding in all of your questions for him. Why was he looking at you like that? Why did you feel a pull to him, a pull like no other? Like you were made just for him in this universe, similar to those oppositely charged ions being pulled together in electrovalence. You were an Ionic bond, two opposites, an undeniable tug, a match made in chemistry.

“Electrostatic attraction,” you gulped, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Despite the room being filled with people, you only saw each other. 

He looked down at your hands, which were quite literally fumbling over your chopsticks. “What?”

You cleared your throat, feeling jittery. You never felt jittery. No one made you feel this way—actually, nobody ever made you feel anything. This scared you but interested you more. “When two ions of opposite charges are attracted to each other. It creates an Ionic bond….”

“A bond?” he hummed, his fingers peeling back the textbook page, causing you to look down. You breathed in deep, composing yourself, but the deep ache to have him ruined everything you ever worked for—your beauty has always been your brain, but he made you feel like your outward appearance was also worthy. 

“Yes,” you nodded, pulling away from him to sit against the back of the seat. “Kind of like….opposites attract. You know, how people are attracted to those different than them?”

He stared at you, his cold gaze somehow warming you more than summer ever could. He may have looked like winter, but to you, he melted the ice off your stone-cold heart.

You looked at each other then, that chemistry sparking and spilling all over you. His lips were downturned in a frown, but oh, his eyes lit the fire inside your barren soul. The things you wanted to say to him ripped through you, desperate to reach the surface, but you held back as you were happy enough to get his attention.

“Why don't we…..why don't we skip next period?” he spoke, biting his lip slightly. You watched his eyes dance across your face, trying to figure you out. 

You never missed a class. You came to school on time. You followed every rule known to man. Everything you did was by the book. But now, oh…..everything you ever knew about yourself seemed to be dwindling over a cliff.

With a short nod, you watched his lips curl slightly, feeling proud that you were the cause once again.

—

It was raining as you both ran through the empty halls, drops dripping down the windows like they were racing to the finish line. His hand brushed against yours, sending a shock through your body. You wondered if he felt it, too.

“Do you have an umbrella?” he asked you as you reached the back door.

You shook your head.

He sighed, contemplating his impulses, you assumed. But you felt in control now, and with a quick motion, you gripped his hand, offering him a questionable look before pushing through the door.

You tumbled through the rain, drenching you as if you were in the ocean. He held onto your hand tightly as if he would drown without you. He let out a laugh, feeling like music to your ears. Without thinking, a smile reached your lips, your cheeks turned red as he pulled you through the rain.

You stopped underneath a small building’s overhead roof, both of you out of breath and soaked to the bone. He looked ethereal—his silver hair now dark like the night sky. His eyelashes were covered in raindrops, delicately taking rest on him. His skin was dewy, his smile brighter than anything you've ever seen before.

You felt the butterflies then—like you were in a movie. However, you haven't seen this film before. The air around you felt serene, the mist of the fallen raindrops splashing all around you. He was close, too close, if that was possible. Your body nearly went into flight or flight at his gaze, his intention. He felt like the rain to you, all around you, soaking into you. You didn't know how to not think of him this way.

“Your face,” he hummed in the small space, your shelter—It was him. “You're dripping wet,” he said, and with a twitch of his hand, his fingers gracefully slid across your cheek, catching the drops in their fall—but he couldn't catch you as you fell.

You swore your soul left your body as he touched you. It was like he was destined to touch you. It may seem silly, especially to your incredibly logical thought process, to be melting under someone’s fingertips. It seemed utterly shameful to your mind that you feel like a puddle as if he was the melting point and you were just….well, mush. It was because of your lack of experience, maybe, that everything he did was heightened.

“Ah,” you fought the urge to lean into his touch. Even after he wiped away the raindrops, his hand still cradled your cheek, his eyebrows knotted in confusion. 

So you reached up, pressing your pointer finger between his brows. You eased his thoughts, resting his expression. “Don't do that,” you blinked up at him, watching his eyes widen at your touch. “You look prettier when you smile.”

He fought off his smile, but you still saw it. “Don't say that.” 

He did smile after he spoke this time, as if he couldn't hold it away.

When he smiled, you felt like you ruled the world.

“Why?”

His touch felt warm against your cold cheek.

“Because,” his eyes—oh, you loved them. They were so expressive, they made up for his lack of emotion. They spoke a million words, like a window into his hidden soul. “You'll confuse me.”

“I don't mean to confuse you, Mingi.” When you spoke his name, you could've sworn he sucked in a breath. “But think I’m a pretty straightforward person.”

He scoffed slightly, looking at his own hand and how it fit perfectly to your face. “You're so oblivious for someone who’s our valedictorian.”

You blinked quickly, the sound of the rain encapsulating the air around you. You were hyperaware of everything—his breaths, the beauty mark on his cheek, his hand on yours. His height, god, it stirred your guts around in more ways than one. 

The moment felt like forever. You stood there, trying to catch your breath, but he kept taking it away. It took you back to the day he saw you in the art studio, how he kept his distance but filled the room with so much care without speaking—he made you feel something no one ever will accomplish. 

When you arrived back at the school, you ended up in detention together, huge grins on both of your faces as you sat across from one another. When he smiled, your whole body tingled, and when he looked at you, you became his.

—

As the days move on, the leaves rot on the ground you walk on. You loved October. You belonged to the season. Your soul only lived during the death of summer.

Mingi, once again, followed you like a lost puppy. He sat next to you at lunch, not across from you, and just….sat contently. You both didn't speak. He watched you eat, watched you breathe. If he were anyone else, they would've been six feet down.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked, his body turned to you. 

You shrugged, looking over at him. You met his gaze, feeling those shocks once more. “Probably just studying for the chemistry exam.”

He nodded, sniffling. You frowned at him, now tilting yourself to face him. “Are you getting sick?” you asked him, unsure if you looked concerned or irritated.

He let a small smile reach his emotionless lips. “I don't know yet, it may be my allergies.”

You curtly nodded your head, and then you turned back to your food. He held his head up by his hand, staring at you, his eyes conflicted. You tried so hard not to turn towards him and kiss his lips. You weren't too sure how he would take that.

After another couple of moments of silence, he spoke again. “Do you want to come over tonight? To study, of course,” he interjected, which led your dirty, inexperienced mind into a fit of thoughts.

Were his parents going to be home? What was he planning on doing to you? Did he…did he have an ulterior motive?

Mingi broke you out of your thoughts. “I mean, if you don't feel comfortable, we can meet somewhere else—”

“No,” you cleared your throat, gripping your chopsticks tighter. “I mean, I would love to come over.”

His eyes twinkled as you met them, like shooting stars falling from the sky. He probably didn't realize that they did it, as his face didn't show any other hint of excitement.

“Okay, nice,” he said blandly, but once again, his eyes said otherwise. You dared to smile, causing him to smile back.

The sunlight danced across his honey skin through the blinds, and you just sat there, admiring him, dreaming about not-so-PG thoughts. 

—

Later on in the evening, you stood in your best efforts of an “effortless” look, anxiously looking at Mingi’s monstrous home. You assumed he was rich, but not this rich. 

The home was glorious, a mansion, if you will. You couldn't even count the windows before you started to feel the pit of your stomach growing bigger and bigger. You swallowed hard, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before pushing past the gates of the entrance. 

It took you a solid minute to knock on his door, which was probably bigger than your room alone. He took a while to answer, causing you even more anxiety. What if a goddamn maid opened the door? God, you'd book it so far that he’d never find you again—

“Y/n,” he hummed breathlessly as he opened the door, his hair dripping wet and his whole torso completely unclothed. Your eyes traveled without permission, noticing the droplets of water that dared to drip down his defined abs….down onto the edge of the towel that just barely covered his hips. You held back your animalistic cravings as you noticed his v-line, swallowing hard. “You’re early.”

You did not move your gaze—you continued to eyeball him without shame. He didn't seem to mind. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Should I leave?” you blinked, eyes rolling up from below to his gaze. He almost looked embarrassed, but there was something sinister in his emotional eyes.

He paused, noticing how you were looking at him. He swallowed hard, too, opening the door wider to let you in. “No…just….come in. Let me go put…..clothes on.”

You nearly smiled at his embarrassment. You followed him in, in awe of his broad shoulders and smooth skin, to the curve of his sides. You felt like an animal in heat.

You looked around the home, feeling….empty. There were no pictures on the walls, no mirrors. Not an ounce of an existence of family, or color, or comfort. It was cold—Void of emotion.

You sat on the couch in one of the living rooms, the ceilings a million feet high. The TV rested on the wall in front of you, bigger than your home. You didn't see anyone, or hear anyone other than Mingi. It felt lonely—yet you were only there for a minute or two.

When he came back into the room, fully dressed in a baggy t-shirt and sweats, you wondered how on earth that shirt drowned him. Maybe if you put it on, it would probably end below your knees.

“Sorry, sorry,” he let out a small anxious chuckle. He stood in front of you, causing you to strain your neck and look up at him. “Should we study here or….?”

Some part of you wished that you weren't here to study. It was something about the feeling between you….it was burning red, fiery, and you craved to dive into its flames.

“It doesn't matter,” you shrugged. “Wherever you want, really.”

His presence is intoxicating. Your mind wanders to his gentle expression, to the water dripping down his head, and you begin to question your sanity. The range of emotions you feel for him was alarming—especially for you.

You follow him into the kitchen and set your bag down on the island. He stands and stares, similarly to how you were observing him earlier. 

As you tried to tutor him about chemicals and such, you looked up at him occasionally, only to find him looking at you.

“What?” you asked him softly, meeting his gaze. “Is there something you're confused about?”

He stared at you intently, his lips downturned. “Yes,” he admitted, biting the inside of his cheek.

“What is it? Is it about—”

“You,” he blinked, fiddling with his fingers. “I…you confuse me.”

Your eyes widened, your stomach tightening at his words. “How do I confuse you?”

“You just…” he sighed, setting down his pencil. “I never know what you're thinking, I guess.”

“Ditto,” you shrugged, keeping the eye-contact.

Silence. You just stared at each other, almost desperately, as you tried to understand what exactly was burning between you.

He sighed, breaking the eye contact by looking down at his textbook. “Let’s just….” he swallowed hard, shutting his book with a forced smile. “Let’s study another time. How about we watch a movie?”

You met his gaze, feeling the air burn around you. His expression was indescribable—something you've never encountered before. You nodded, nonetheless, and when he stood up abruptly, you followed him like a lost puppy through his house, which was far from a home.

“Why are you alone?” you asked from behind, watching his large body move with such grace. 

He didn't look back as he responded. “My parents live in Seoul,” he hummed. “I’ve been alone.”

You felt a chill roll down your spine as his cold words echoed through you. He seemed to have bad blood with them, whoever they are, and your flighty personality has you wanting to seek them out to tell them how horrible it is to leave their child behind.

As you walked into the vast, empty living room, you stopped in your tracks.

“It must be lonely,” you murmured, to which he paused for a second. 

He let out a small laugh—a forced laugh—like he needed to pretend to be okay. You wished for the day he didn't need to pretend.

He sat down on the sectional, his long legs sprawling out. You looked at him before sitting down next to him, a reasonable distance away. He looked over at you, his eyes conflicted.

“What…. what's your favorite kind of movie?” He asked you.

You hesitated. You were concerned about what he would think about your opinion. 

“Horror,” you admitted, watching his eyes widen.

“Horror?” he reiterated, his expression grim. 

It was almost too cute. You nearly blushed.

You smirked, sliding in a bit closer to him. “What? Are you scared? I thought you were a big, tough guy.”

“..fine, ahem,” he cleared his throat, running a hand through that silvery hair of his. “I’ll put a horror movie on….since you like them.”

As the movie played, you sat next to each other, still a suffocating amount of space between you. You looked over at him, his expression wary, his hands balled up as if he were terrified. 

You scooted over closer to him, hearing his breath hitch. You weren't sure if it was because of you moving closer or because of the jumpscare on the TV. you leaned in slightly, whispering into his ear. “Are you scared, Mingi?” you giggled, causing him to jump.

“Fuck, he hissed, his eyes frazzled. He quickly tried to calm himself down, and he put a silly little smile on his face. “No, I just don't like getting jump scared, is all.”

You smiled at him, the distance now only inches. You watched how his Adam’s apple bobbed anxiously as the space between you two shrank and how his eyes lingered on your lips. You wanted him to reach out and press them to yours, like how it almost happened in the supply closet. You wanted to feel everything he could make you feel—more than you already felt.

As the movie went on, the loud, atrocious noises filled the space, but all you saw was him. The room was dark, and his features were highlighted by the small source of light coming from the television. You watched his eyes glimmer through the darkness as they landed on you, and you heard his breaths quicken.

And in that moment, you had enough.

You slowly reached out to him, your fingertips meeting the softness of his cheek. He frowned in confusion, but his eyes spoke more words than he’d ever said before.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“I….” you swallowed hard, bringing up your other hand to cradle his face gently. “I just want to feel something. I….I want you to feel it, too.”

Your eyes meet his lips; his eyes do the same. You've never been this close to anyone….and he felt just right. Everything about him caused you to ache. To ache for his touch, his attention. You craved every part of him, even before he knew your name.

He shined in the sunlight, even when it rained. 

And with that look in his eye—that deep, desired look—you slowly pressed your lips to his unmoving ones, and after a moment, he kissed back with such passion you could swear you saw stars.

His hands held the back of your head, his lips parting yours. He let out a shaky breath as you kissed, and your hands trailed down to his chest. Something about this sparked something inside you, ignited a flame that was destined to burn for a lifetime. He parted your lips open, his tongue infiltrating your mouth smoothly. You let out a moan, causing him to deepen the simple kiss into something much more…sinister.

“Do you feel something now?” he hummed against your lips desperately. His hands gripped your jaw, the tips of his fingers tangling into the hairs at the base of your ears. “Please tell me that I make you feel something.”

“You do,” you mumbled breathlessly, your hand gliding up his cheek. He leaned into your touch as if he were deprived of it. Maybe he was. Maybe he wanted to kiss you like this for a while, to touch you like this for a while. Maybe, just like you, he ached to feel something, too. “God, Mingi, only you can make me feel this way.”

You looked at each other in between kisses. His eyes were lustful, yet, they looked like they could tear up any moment. You didn't know what you looked like to him, so you leaned in again, delicately pressing your lips to his. He wrapped his arms around you, his forehead pressing against yours as he kissed you more and more and more. 

He pulled back ever so slowly; his eyebrows knit together, his brown irises dead center on your eyes. He spoke a million words without ever opening his mouth or even parting his lips. You smiled at him, feeling more like yourself than you've ever felt before. 

He lit up your soul.

His eyes asked you kindly. You agreed with a soft nod, and then he whisked you away into bliss. 

He carried you with grace through the dark hall, dropping you on his bed. Your back hits the cold duvet, sending chills down your spine. For a moment, he just gazes down at you, the only source of light being the floor lamp in the corner of the room. His expression was one you understood for once—he was full of emotion, and he made you feel safe.

He sucked in a breath, and you watched intently as he lifted his shirt slowly over his head. He was nervous—obviously nervous, and you wondered why such a big, strong, stone-like man would be scared of something like this. You were confident he’d done this before—he had to have. 

“I won't bite you,” you breathed, looking up at him with your soulful eyes. However, your innocence only went so far here. You've been watching him for ages, trying not to feel this…whatever this was. A mix of love, lust, longing, belonging….and he finally saw you. 

You were going to eat him up if he let you, of course.

He let out a shaky laugh, standing there so delicately powerful. His muscles rose and fell in the shadows of the dark, his skin looking ever so soft. You sat up on the bed, reaching out to him. You gripped his waistband, pulling him into you. He breathed in as your fingertips touched the bare skin of his waist, and he held his breath as you pushed past that waistband….down his underwear, to find…

Holy fucking shit. 

That’s literally going to obliterate your insides.

You must've looked shocked because he suddenly pulled himself away from you. “W-what? Is something wrong?”

You blinked up at him, tilting your head. You couldn't help but let out a laugh, to which he looked even more confused.

He looked distressed, so you stood up from the bed and walked up to him. He towered over you more than you've ever realized. You stood there in front of him for a moment that seemed to last forever, his eyes frantically searching for your explanation.

“Is something wrong with it—”

“Mingi,” you breathed, basically moaned, his name as you fiddled at the hem of your shirt. He watched your hand, gulping. “You may just kill me with that.”

You flung your shirt across the room, and your hands then danced at your waist to undo your pants. 

He frowned, confused. “Kill you? How—”

Your pants dropped to the ground, and you kicked them aside. You were left in your underwear—a pretty pink set you've kept in your drawer for ages for a moment like this. You completely got him starstruck.

You watched his mouth part as he stared at your body. “What…uh,” he swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair. “I…” You stepped closer to him, gliding your hand to hold his cheek; he shut his eyes and leaned into your touch, taking a deep breath. 

You leaned forward, on the tips of your toes. “Are you going to take the rest off, or am I gonna have to do it for you, scaredy cat?” you teased, pressing a kiss to his neck. He shivered, his hands instinctively gripping onto your hips.

His eyes were lustful, his gaze ripping right through you like a knife would tear a heart. It was as if you offended him, and he grit his teeth as he slid your bra right over your head with one hand.

You smirked, your hands running up the sides of his face to run through his gorgeous hair. You found pleasure in his reactions—the way he savored his feelings as he closed his eyes.

“Is this your first time?” he whispered weakly as your lips found a home under his jaw. “Because I have a feeling it isn't—”

“And if it is?” you interrupted him, still creating your mark on his neck. “Will you not fuck me?”

“Oh, dear god,” he huffed, letting out a groan. He shoved you onto the bed, your back once again hitting the covers. This time, it felt even colder. “Where the hell did you get that mouth of yours?”

You tried to breathe, but you no longer remembered how to. “Why, do you not like it?”

He didn't answer you with words. Instead, he unbuttoned his pants, his hard-on begging to break through his underwear. You laid there, your breasts on full display for him, and your stomach tightened as you saw his dick after he took everything off.

“Oh….” you gulped, raising your eyebrows in hopes that he didn't see your worry. You've never had sex, only with your own fingers, and as you looked down at his massive cock, there was no way in hell that was fitting inside you.

In fact, it turned you on just thinking about how…big he was. How he stood with confidence, turning red, his body physically showing his attraction to you, blood pumping, sweat pooling to the surface of his skin.

His size….you've always been obsessed with his size—it surrounded your every thought. This was the cherry on top of your fantasies.

He knelt over you, his body warmth making you even hotter. You felt his erection press against your thigh, and you shamelessly moaned, meeting his flaming gaze.

“By kill, I mean,” you breathed in, pausing. “I mean, that dick of yours is like a goddamn weapon.”

His face was right over yours, and you watched a sinister smile fill his features. “Is that so?” he whispered, dipping his head to kiss your lips. You moaned into the kiss, biting his bottom lip as he pulled back.

“Mhm,” you whimpered as his dick pressed against your panties, and you ached for him to take them off. He was too captivated by your breasts to even think about the fact that they were still on. You looked down at his hands, and oh, they just completely encapsulated you, mind and body, body and soul. You wished for him to suck the living life out of you, to choke you until you saw whatever was beyond this life, if there was anything. His hands alone caused you to daydream about them bringing death to you and being pleasured by the hands of death. They were so large, so soft, so gentle. You wanted him to manhandle you, to tear you apart, to rip your heart in two and then sew it back together. Your mind was just rambling on now, but one thing was for sure.

You were in love with him.

“Mingi,” you whispered, wrapping your hand around his arm that worshiped your breasts. His eyes met yours, madly, desperately. “Take every part of me.”

He wasn't sure how to respond, and you knew it. He did, however, understand your request, and he kissed you from your breastbone to the mounds of skin, down your stomach, finally reaching where he needed to be. He kissed you there, right there, and you felt his hot breath radiate through the thin fabric. It was gone before you knew it, and he lined himself up on top of you, his chest heaving from breathlessness and desire.

His silvery-grey hair nearly looked black in the moonlight, shining smoothly. He made you happy, everything about him.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he spoke against your lips, the tip of his dick pressing against your entrance. You closed your eyes tightly as his thick cock slid into you. 

“I like the pain,” you said.

Your eyes watered, but the sound of his pleasure made everything better. Truthfully, you discovered something about yourself that you never knew. You loved that he was big. You loved how his cock still had length outside of you, even as he stuck himself fully in. You watched as he moved in, moved out, how his hips bucked against yours, and how he held you underneath him, tenderly, like he was afraid to shatter you like glass. You were his throne, his home, and he was your everything.

“Ah,” you hissed; this never felt before feeling tingling your insides, your stomach filling up with his length. You gripped onto his shoulder blades, tearing into his skin as he sped up. He seemed to like how you inflicted pain, and you continued to pierce his skin, carving your mark like writing initials into tree bark. 

It was bliss, your first time. The feeling of him pumping into you was addictive—you were sure you were going to want this every day for the rest of your life. You arched your back into him, wrapping your legs around him as you felt yourself reach your climax. You've never felt one before, and it was intoxicating. His breaths quickened along with his movements, and his hips rocked back and forth slightly, hitting new spots for your body to learn. He was your tutor, your teacher. Your daydream and your nightmare. You revolved around him as if he were your sun and you were his moon.

His expression changed as he looked at you—eye contact and all. You've never felt so intimate with someone your entire life, and strangely enough, despite your usual ignorance of emotions, you wanted to bask in this feeling forever. To gaze into his eyes forever. Maybe it was your youth; maybe it was your first life. 

“You're so beautiful,” he praised, his face contorted in pleasure. His tone of voice sent ripples through your body—it was deep, raspy. It rumbled through you, all around you. You loved his voice. You loved it so much that you wanted him to speak more and more and more.

“Say that again,” you moaned, sweat dripping down your temple as the top of your head hit the headboard. “Please.”

“You,” he breathed, lifting one of your legs up to burrow in you deeper— as if it were possible with the size of his dick. He hit a new spot, causing you to toss in his embrace, begging for more. “...You are beautiful.”

“God fuck, Mingi,” you quite literally snarled, gripping his shoulders to switch positions, you now sitting right on top of him. You looked down on him, finding gratification in his sexily fatigued expression. His eyes were barely open, his chest heaving, his hands gripping the sheets. “I love the sound of your fucking voice.”

And with that, you began to ride him, watching his features twist with such interesting emotions you've never seen before. When he began to breathe quicker and quicker, you watched how his eyes widened, how his big, veiny but gentle hands came up to fist your hair. You cried out, eyes watering, pain sparking down your neck—but you loved it. 

He grabbed you by the hair and shoved you onto your stomach, face full of pillow and the sweet smell of Mingi’s hair wash. You closed your eyes as he re-entered you, his hands putting pressure on the small of your back.

And as he let out a deep, bone-crushing moan, you squeezed your thighs together tightly. He pulled out quickly, and came on your back, painting himself all over you.

The only sound through the silence was the huffing of your breaths, your face flushed, hidden from him. He let out a slight, rumbly laugh—music to your ears.

“I’ll go grab a towel,” he spoke softly, his fingertips dancing down the side of your waist as if he were appreciating your structure. 

He cleaned you up with such softness as if this weren't the man that was just fisting your hair and slamming his dick into you. You lay in his bed, naked, your stomach aching, your legs weak. 

He laid next to you, his shower he had just taken before this turned utterly pointless, his body covered in sweat. His hair stuck to his forehead, and you reached out, brushing it up. You smiled at him as he stared at you with fascination.

And then, in the comfort of his embrace, you fell asleep, dreaming of him.

—

When you awoke in the morning, he was no longer there.

Your youthful mind didn't jump to conclusions—you slowly rolled out of his California king and picked up his huge t-shirt, tossing it on without anything else. It drowned you, down to your knees like you expected, and you giggled in bliss. It smelled like him.

When you stepped into the kitchen, you saw a cup of steaming coffee on the island. Mingi was facing away from you, the back of his head messy, silver hair standing up everywhere.

“Good morning,” you mumbled, standing awkwardly in the doorframe. He quickly turned around, a goofy smile plastered on his face. 

You felt the rush of blood reach the tips of your ears.

He inspected your outfit—or his outfit—and that goofy smile widened even more. “My shirt, huh?”

You wrapped your arms around your body. “It was the first thing I picked up.”

“I like it,” he smirked, walking over to you, his arms taking the place of yours. “I love it, actually.”

You embraced him, feeling finally happy. “You're a lot more colorful than usual,” you acknowledged, feeling his heartbeat through his chest. 

“You must've painted me in a new light,” he hummed, resting his head on the top of yours. 

You tried to escape his embrace, but he tightened it, shaking his head. “You're not leaving me.”

You giggled, trying to playfully push him away. “Mingi, what time is it?”

He paused. “Uh….”

You pulled back, looking into his eyes. Your own eyes widened.

“School, oh my god, we forgot about school!”

—

You held Mingi’s large hand as you sprinted down the road to your school. After a pit stop at your home for your uniform and a blissful moment of a makeout outside the door, you barreled as fast as you could, knowing you were gonna get punished. Even so, you laughed the whole way, and when your tardiness landed you in detention, you couldn't of been happier to end up in a room with Mingi.

The teacher left the room for a moment, and as the door shut, Mingi launched out of his seat and attacked you with his lips, his hands in your hair, his teeth clashing with yours as he smiled as wide as ever.

The next day, you watched him sit in the sunlight in homeroom, noticing his hair shine—the same head of hair you ran through as he made love to you a few nights before.

He liked sitting by windows. It brought a curl to your lips, as his dreary-looking ass always was lit up by the sunlight. 

He was the moon during the day, right before the sun sets. And you, well, you were finally a star in his almost-night sky.

—

Winter break was approaching. Students were talking. You didn't care, and neither did he. In fact, he made it painfully obvious, sitting next to you with every chance he got, touching you as much as he could, smiling so wide it was unlike his usual persona.

The question dwindled over your head. Many people asked you, talked to you, and inquired about your relationship with him. You didn't exactly know what to tell them—you never actually labeled whatever this was. Whatever it was, it didn't matter to you, as it just mattered that you were blissfully happy for however long it may last. You were going to enjoy this time you had with him, knowing that college was approaching.

“Y/n!” a loud voice boomed through the study hall class, a few students turning their heads in confusion. You met eyes with Yunho, one of Mingi’s best friends. You frowned, confused as to why he was calling for you. There was no teacher as the class didn't start yet, so you weren't too alarmed.

“What?” you asked him.

He took a sharp breath in, hands on his knees like he ran a marathon. “It’s Mingi—he got hurt on his way to school—”

You stood up quickly, eyes wide. “What? Where is he?”

“In the nurses—”

You didn't even give him a chance to finish his sentence. You ran down the hall, even though class was about to start. 

You let out a loud breath when you reached the nurse’s office. “Mingi? Are you okay—”

With a tight grip on your wrist, he tugged you into the office, slamming the door behind you.

He stood there, perfectly fine, with a boyish smile on his face.

You hit his chest. “What the hell? I thought you were hurt?”

He giggled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. “Mmh. No, I just wanted to do this.” he kissed you again, his hands tilting your chin up with such tenderness. 

You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You're such a sneak.” 

“Do you want me to kiss you in front of everyone?” he teased, pecking your nose and then your lips. “Because I will.”

You chuckled, kissing him more. “It’ll  probably clear up all the rumors about us,” you shrugged, ruffling his hair as you kissed him again.

“People are so nosy,” he mumbled. “Can't two people date in peace?” 

You pulled back in his embrace, a glimmer of mischief in your gaze. “Oh?” you tilted your head, and as he went in for another kiss, you pressed a finger to his lips. “Were dating, huh?”

He blinked as if you said something completely insane. “Huh?” he furrowed his brows. “Haven't we been dating?”

You smirked, teasing him. “Since when?”

He scoffed, but still held onto you. “Uh, since I literally fucked the living shit out of you?”

You laughed at his vulgarity, pressing your lips to his in a long, sensual kiss. “So were dating now?”

“I thought you knew that.”

“How would I know that if you never said it?”

“Because you're the fucking valedictorian, y/n.”

You stared at his confused face, smiling wider than you've ever smiled. “Okay,” you nodded, watching his eyes sparkle down at you. “Boyfriend.”

“Girlfriend,” he giggled like a child, grabbing both your cheeks and kissing you over and over again. “My girlfriend.”

You never saw yourself as cheesy and didn't see him as the cheesy kind, either. But there you were, in each other's arms in the run-down, empty nurses office, blissfully unaware of how the future will work out for you. But now was the time, not then, not when. It was now, and now you loved him. 

You were his tutor, his happiness, his light, even if you never thought you could ever brighten up someone’s life. 

It was this moment— you declared that you were utterly, irrevocably in love with him. He was all you thought about, all you noticed.

The future isn't guaranteed, but you both will live on, together maybe, who knows? You were young and in love, but who says it won't work? Your hearts will live for each other, whatever the future brings you.

He was the daydream to your nightmare.

[expresso-bean]

The Man Out of Time [A ShadAmy and Silver Story]: Chapter 14

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Amy Rose

Description: It has been seven years of peace following the grueling war with Eggman and his army. Though it took time to rebuild what they have lost, life for the Freedom Fighters could not be better. Whether it's finding love or trying to run from their past, celebrating post-war times has been different for each of them.

All is well until a silver hedgehog comes knocking on Amy Rose's door to deliver the tragic news about an incredible force that seems to be the cause of the future's destruction.

Will anyone believe the mysterious hedgehog's cry for help? Or will he be left to fight for his future alone? Read to find out!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1k

POV: Amy Rose

!! I do not own any of the art/gifs/borders used in my chapters. All credits to the rightful owners !!

Masterlist ❀ Ch.1 ❀ Ch.2 ❀ Ch.3 ❀ Ch.4 ❀ Ch.5 ❀ Ch.6 ❀ Ch.7 ❀ Ch.8 ❀ Ch.9 ❀ Ch.10 ❀ Ch.11 ❀ Ch.12 ❀ Ch.13

I didn't know what to expect when I woke up. Maybe I expected Shadow to still be here like he promised. But he wasn't here. And that stirred an unknown feeling inside of me.

No, I knew exactly what I was feeling.

Stupid. I felt completely stupid.

Why was I still waiting for him? Why was I holding on to the hope that he would burst through the door at any moment and ask if I was okay?

I stayed on the bed and pulled my plush pink covers closer to me. Their warmth provided little comfort, but I was willing to take whatever I could get.

'Why… do I feel this way?' My fingers curled up and dug into the soft cloth. I took a moment to breathe. My lungs stung, and a warm lump was building in my throat. I hated crying, especially over someone like him. 'I'm always felt feeling like this whenever I get mixed up in his signals. I could never tell what he was trying to tell me. Does he like me? If so, as a friend or something more? If he wants to be something more, why doesn't he say so? I've been clear in my intentions. I invite him over to my house often to the point where I've offered to make a spare key for him to have. Every Wednesday we go out to dinner, and every Sunday we have coffee and brunch. I don't go out with ANYONE else besides him, and I've told him so many, many times. Am I not expressing myself enough? Does he still think I only see him as a friend?' I wiped a tear that was poking out from the corner of my eye. My teeth were clenched so hard that it was beginning to hurt. '…why am I too cowardly to admit my feelings to him?'

I knew I was acting pitiful. I was the one standing between my own happiness. I was too scared to tell Shadow about my feelings, and reasonable so. I wouldn't know how to react if he were to reject me. Things wouldn't be the same.

And then there was one more thing to consider. Before my love for Shadow, comes my appreciation of his friendship.

'He's done a lot for me. He's trained with me when I felt weak. He's talked to me when I need someone to speak to. He has once stood outside my doorstep for hours to make sure I was okay while I was having a depressive episode. If I lost him, his friendship; I would lose it.'

My own words stung. The anxiety tightened in my chest and I found myself breathing slowly to calm myself down. If I had a morning anxiety attack, it would ruin my entire day. And with everything going on, I can't afford any bad days.

'Too many people are depending on me. I can't afford to fail. There is so much at stake. I need to keep my emotions in check if I want everyone to rely on me.'

I sat there in the sheets and practiced some mindful breathing. I kept my eyes closed, and just breathed until my body felt calm. Who knows how long I sat there. The minutes seemed longer to me with each shaky breath. No matter what I did, or how long I breathed in and out, I couldn't brush aside the feelings Shadow leaves with me.

I found it annoying how inconstant his actions could be. One day he would take to me and tell me the sweetest things I've ever heard, and the next he would avoid me like nothing.

At times, I wonder who he even is. How well do I really know him?

'Maybe if he talked to me instead of avoiding me, I would know him better!' I clutched the blanket that was covering me in frustration. 'Why is this so complicated?'

I touched my face. Luckily, there were no tears. It just felt warm from the anger and sadness I was feeling.

'I want to sleep forever, but, I know I need to get up.'

I felt like I had been awake for days when, in reality, it's been 2 hours tops. As I rolled out of bed and walked toward my dresser, I finally got a good look at myself. The color in my face had finally reappeared. Most of all, I was glad that the dark circles under my eyes were disappearing.

I have S to thank for all of this. Without him, we would have never known about the future danger ahead of us, and I would have never been able to put my mind at peace.

I left my room and smiled as I saw S resting on the couch, covered in the blankets I let him borrow. I crept towards the kitchen to not wake him up, but as soon as I popped my head in, I almost had a heart attack. Shadow was sitting at the table with his head down and a mug of tea next to his face. I had to retain the joy of knowing that he was still here.

But why didn't he stay in my room like the last time?

I brushed off the question and tried to keep it out of my mind. I instead thought about the fulfillment of his promise. He said he'd be here when I woke up and he is. If he is still here, then why am I not satisfied with that conclusion?

'Ugh, maybe we are all really complicated in our own ways.'

I giggled to myself as I picked up the kettle from the stove to fill it with water.

'I'm sure a nice cup of tea will put my mind at ease,' I sighed looking through my pantry. I smiled when I saw the last few packets of peach tea I saw holding off for a moment like this. 'Nothing like a nice glass of warm peach tea to get me back to my normal self.'

"Oh, S isn't here either, huh? Or Sonic..." My voiced trialed off at the realization that was standing in an empty house. "I just hope neither of them got into too much trouble while I was out."

[keithsandwich]

Just to yap a bit more about my thought process on choosing a rising sign for a fictional character. It probably won't make sense because I have a hard time putting these things into words, and words that aren't from my first language, but this is what I have to offer today.

The rising sign, the Ascendent, is the sign that was rising in the horizon the moment a person was born. Because I'm choosing one for a character without a canon birth time, and who was born in a fictional birth place, I can pretty much choose whatever sign I want. If there was any canon mention of him being born at night, for example, it would limit my choices.

So, the Ascendent will define all the houses in the birth chart, because the Ascendent is the first house. From there, the following houses will follow the zodiac order. The houses in the chart indicate life areas, important people and events. Each of the 12 have a meaning, but to make it easier to choose for a character, you can think about the angles first because they are stronger houses:

1st House, the Ascendent, is the person or character themselves. This is who they are, their physical appearance, the theme of their lives.

4th House is home and roots, the past, the ancestry, the conditions in which they grew up.

7th House is other people, partners, enemies, the life partner, societies, business and deals with other people, marriage (not romance, marriage).

10th House is public image, how they are seem and perceived by other people, what gives them recognition, what they'll be remembered by.

When choosing for a character, consider using Whole Signs for it because it makes life much easier and you don't have to think about intercepted houses and yada yada. Because house calculations might vary, stability might depend on how close to the equator you were born and a lot of factors you don't have to deal with and I won't explain. Whole Sign system for houses: 1 sign, 1 house, simple as this.

So when deciding the angles, you're limited to using only the signs of the same quality as the Ascendent for them because of simple logic: this is how the signs ate disposed on the zodiac wheel. If you have Aries first, fourth will be Cancer, seventh will be Libra and tenth will be Capricorn. If you have Taurus first, fourth will be Leo, seventh will be Scorpio and tenth will be Aquarius and so on.

So, for Keith, I like Libra rising for him because

1) The theme of Libra is finding balance between two different things.

2) Libra Ascendent indicates a person that is very polite, considerate of others, charming even, and indecisive. It can also indicate someone who's very social and flirty but I would go with the most saturnine part of Libra for Keith.

3) Speaking of, Libra is ruled by Venus, which is responsible for the social and flirty part, but not only. Venus is also related to harmony, appreciation of arts and beauty in general, and appreciation of others as well (you know how Keith is always praising other people?). Libra is a joyful sign for Saturn too, however, because in order to find balance between different things, Libra dissolves the ego and puts others before themselves.

4) If Libra is the first house, Keith's sun will fall in the 6th, which is a tough house but would basically indicate that is driving force is to serve/work really really hard for the benefit of others, putting a little more emphasis on that. I see it in him when he tries to take care of Mireille and Tio when their mother died; with the effort he puts into making himself strong to protect others even if he's insecure (Pisces); in the way he keeps trying to work harder and harder to be a good prince in his father's eyes, to no avail; in the way his dream as a child is to make Jadean people happy along with his brother (not alone)...

5) The 4th from Libra is Capricorn, and again, tough one. It can indicate a cold and harsh environment for a home, because Capricorn is winter and is ruled by the lord of restrictions and ruptures, which is Saturn. Cold and distant father, loss of mother, loss of brother. Home being a place where he has to prove himself again and again and again and never being enough, and a place where he suffered murder attempts more than once.

6) The 7th from Libra is Aries, so his others would tend to be more energetic and assertive than he is. It makes me think of Alter, but this is also an indicator that the nobility might see him as weak and a pushover. We know he can stand against them now, but it wasn't always like this, and this is the area Alter had to step up the most at the beginning: dealing with others, protecting from enemies. When it comes to marriage (I'll be biased because I am analyzing it as the CEO of Keith and Maeve lol), it can indicate one that happens quickly to a person who is, again, energetic, headstrong, fresh spirited and maybe a bit naive.

7) The 10th from Libra is Cancer, which would make him be seen and known as a very nurturing prince and future king; one that cares for his people's well-being. Under his reign, he would make sure no one is face hunger, and he would protect the most vulnerable people (like children, women, the elderly, disabled and refugees).

8) Thinking about other houses, the ones related to important things to him, the 3rd - siblings - would be Sagittarius, a very optimistic, idealistic, fun and positive sign, which I think make sense, since his siblings were the only source of happiness to him when he was little. 9th - studies - seems fine being Gemini since he's interested in multiple topics (herbology, astronomy, besides politics and whatever is needed for a crown prince). 11th - friends and social stuff - being Leo makes obvious sense with him having other royals as friends.

9) The only thing I dislike really is 5th - creations, including children, and romance - being Aquarius because it's not a very fertile sign. It can indicate his romance being an unusual one, though.

I would have to think of a position for Saturn that makes it distress him up until he meets Maeve, but them becomes more beneficial for him after that 🙃 Oh gosh. He's definitely meeting her (it can also be MC btw) after he's 28.

10) Just to close it up, this chart would make him be someone who doesn't like to spend much money, but who inherits quite a lot and this part is obvious. The part of saving money clashes with him buying a lot of gifts because he can't decide on only one (it happened in a Valentine's story), but it can also be seen as him wanting to save what matters to him when it comes to material stuff, and it goes along with him not wanting to wear MC's gift in his last birthday story. 2th house - gains and material belongings - Scorpio and 8th house - inheritance - Taurus.

[oathbreakerapologist]

2, 20, 39, 43 for beloved niro AND also A + D

Thank you for the questions <3<3

2. How easy is it for your character to laugh?

Very, very easy. For a massive murder machine, he's got a certain... whimsy? It makes him easily delighted by rather mundane experiences, easily impressed by quick retorts and wordplay, easily amused.

One of the things that I think people often find unsettling about him is that his cruelty and depravity exist alongside a genuine, earnest cheerfulness, a joie de vivre that's hard to square with all-consuming bloodlust. But the thing about him is that, in large part, nothing that's going on in his life—his need to kill, the dangerous company he keeps, the risks he takes—are a problem to him. As far as he's concerned, he's having fun, his life is never boring, and he's doing what he likes to do.

So he's a happy guy, and he laughs a lot, because every day's a beautiful day to be a blight upon mankind.

20. If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

He couldn't. He might try, but he would fail rather quickly, and he would be well aware that he was failing at it. He is only distantly acquainted with love in general, let alone its types and flavors. He knows it only through the proxies of devotion, dependence, and desire. The nuances are lost on him.

39. How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people?

When those other people are people with whom he has little attachment, none at all; he is unforgiving of even the slightest flaws among those that don't matter to him (a category that includes almost everyone). But when those flaws appear in a person to whom he's bonded, he is capable of significant selective ignorance. He can reason his way around caring about things that usually grate on him if doing so allows him to continue viewing his lover as his perfect companion.

43. If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so?

I answered this one here; the gist of it is that he'd define his sexuality in terms of his general openness and desire for a wide range of one-and-done sex partners.

Something I didn't state in that answer but which I think I ought to elaborate on is that he's nondiscriminating when it comes to most standard ways people define their sexual preferences (gender, age, body type, etc.) specifically because he sees other people as distinguished primarily by being Not Like Him. He generally believes he's not a person! As far as he's concerned, he's in one category, and all humanoids are in the other category. That is the most important dividing line. All else is trivial in comparison.

A. Why are you excited about this character?

He's kind of a distillation of every character trope I love. I've got a track record of immediately latching onto the most depraved and unwell characters, especially when they're also kind of silly, dramatic, and flamboyant on top of being horrible to be around. I especially love stories with terrible codependent relationships between people who are the living embodiment of that one Reddit AITA response that's like, "Your relationship is a train wreck, and you deserve each other. You must stay together, because you should never be allowed to inflict yourselves on other people."

I love the sheer drama built into the Dark Urge—the glory of being very nearly an incarnation of a god, the horror of being an incarnation of a god of murder, and the pathos of the betrayal. There's so much potential there. I'm excited by how much I can put him through because of all that.

Also, I think he's hot. I made some design decisions for him with the intention that I'd find him weird-looking and creepy, not hot, and that worked for a while, but then I started finding him hot anyway. You can tell approximately when this happened because it's when I went from posting mostly not-porn art of him to mostly porn art of him.

D. Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

He hasn't changed much! I mean, I'm not 100% consistent with my drawings of him, so his face varies a little bit each time I draw him, but overall I feel like I nailed down my desired appearance for him pretty early on and have mostly just been working to get it consistent.

I did change the shape of his ears, though. A lot of my earlier drawings of him gave him standard pointy elf ears. I don't remember exactly when I switched to giving him the squared-off low, angular ears he's got now, but I think it was maybe six to eight months ago.

Sometimes I feel like his features are kind of going through a constant game of Telephone, in which some things get pushed just a little bit further each time I draw him. The U-shaped forehead wrinkle thing (I'm gonna be so honest. I don't know what that is. But it's important to me that it's on there) that he's got going on is a very distant evolution of two weird little marks I put between his eyebrows the very first time I ever drew him. Same thing with his triangle eyebrows—just a slow, bit by bit translation of an original shape. And I think I make his irises a bit smaller every single time I draw him. But for the most part, all those things feel like variations on themes that have been there since the beginning.

Speaking of, here's a quick little side-by-side of the very first time I ever drew him (holy shit what a blast from the past) and a recent one (ignore that the face tattoo on the recent one is just scribbles. I get lazy with it when I don't expect that I'll ever be zooming in on it)

[spacestationvampire]

the way you color things makes me want to commit crimes. any coloring tips for a baby digital artist who doesn’t know how to do the computer things good?

AUGH apologies for taking so long, i was in the middle of writing this answer and the whole thing was deleted as soon as i switched to another tab on my phone, and then the draft didn't save the second time i tried to write it. jfc at least i had it written out in my notes app the second time. anyway, thank you thank you thank you!! this was very nice to recieve, i love getting asks ❤️

i'm not versed in the arts of drawing on a computer, either, so i can't give tips in regards to specific programs (said in chronic procreate user voice) but i can certainly give universal advice keep in mind that i'm not professionally taught in the slightest so i lack much of the vocabulary to describe my methods, and remember that my word is not law!

in case of confusion, everything has been explained. i've added a cut because it got needlessly long. i've also added visual guides for certain tips, and image descriptions for each one

to be honest, much of what i do when picking colors is done with the help of gradient maps (more on that later) but when choosing my base colors i follow these rules:

1. you don't have to cell shade with purple + multiply and an add layer. that's the voice of lavendertowne attempting to take control of your body. stamp it out. (/j i love her)

2. bright, vivid colors!

3. instead of shifting just the brightness and saturation when picking colors to shade, shift the hue, too! in the first image, we can see that the circle is dull and boring. in comparison, the second image pops!

4. so, how does this work?

without getting too much into color theory--because while i've studied it before, i don't trust myself to articulate it properly without making a fool of myself--it's all about how colors interact with each other. for example, a beige circle looks lighter when surrounded by a dark background rather than just plain white.

in the same vein, surrounding greys/desaturated colors with warm colors makes them look blue, and vice versa.

5. blue/grey shadows and warm lighting!! or the other way around. actually, you can use any color for shadows and lighting, depending on your light source. is it sunny outside, or are they beneath white light?

6. for color picking, i reccomend avoiding using the wheel, instead opting for the rgb sliders or the hue saturation brightness sliders if you're dumb like me. this allows for precision in the colors you pick, and accuracy when putting together color palettes.

7. and, finally, the actual computer stuff: gradient maps! i looove gradient maps.

as far as i'm aware, procreate and krita have the gradient map tool. ibispaint does not. i am not sure if firealpaca does.

i usually use gradient maps to make my coloring more cohesive, rather than just slapping them on a monochrome drawing (which is also a totally viable method for coloring, but you'll be less precise, as gmaps only recognize values). when using gradient maps, i prefer to duplicate my completed artwork, lower the opacity of the duplicate on top of it (usually between 25 and 50%, depending on how strong i want the effect to be), and use gradient maps on the duplicate.

this makes my colors all nice and pretty!

11. if you use krita, it can be hard to find the right colors to use for your gradient maps. never fear! i'm here to give you the default templates from procreate, as well as a couple of the ones i've made.

if you have any more questions, or you want me to get further into a specific topic, feel free to send me another ask

[wings-of-ink]

If you're still looking for thoughts on Patreon: I haven't subscribed to many Patreons before, but so far it's been for extras + early access. Unfortunately I don't have enough money to subscribe to everyone I want to or for long periods of time, so I normally dip in for 1 or 2 months when something is released, cancel my subscription, and resubscribe at a later date.

It seems like people are willing to pay more for RO content (like side stories & RO POVs), nsfw content, + early access. So those might be ideal to place at higher tiers? I've also seen some creators do tiered early access. Like the highest tier will get the demo update 1 month early, then the next tier 3 weeks early, etc. with the lowest 1 week before it's released to the public. That might make the higher tiers worth it over the lower tiers, instead of giving them all the same amount of early access.

One concern is that some creators get burnout from having to create all the extra content for Patreon. I think a lot of people underestimate how much time & effort it takes and it may not be worth the payoff (depending on how successful the patreon is). I'd also be concerned that with Patreon extra content + multiple new WIPs there won't be much time left for the main game and it's likely progress will slow down. I've seen this happen many times before, even without Patreon it seems like most creators who have multiple WIPs don't end up finishing any of them.

Absolutely, thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, I appreciate that a lot.

The feedback I've had has given me some ideas on how to streamline what I would do. When I've done Patreon for others, I've rotated support between the projects that resonate with me the most as well. There's so many to pick from, I can't blame anyone for popping in once every so often instead of staying subbed. If you have the ability to afford it, more power to you, but most of us just don't.

Those key benefits are really what I'm wanting to focus on. I do like the idea of a tiered early-access too especially for peeps who just want that.

Patreon burnout is something I want to work hard to avoid; I've seen other creators struggle and stop enjoying their arts too. I want to do this in a way that I can produce things for you to enjoy in a way that is still enjoyable for me too. This is my passion and I don't want to turn it into "work."

I have the benefit of probably being less busy than most others who do this, at least as far as I can tell. I'm married with no children and no plans for any either. I'm older, out of college and settled in the drudges of a career. I've been at my job long enough I could do it in my sleep and it doesn't cause me a ton of stress at this point. When I work on the IF or on Tumblr, it's because I want to and it drives me - it's a form of entertainment for me as well. I'd rather do this than watch TV or scroll mindlessly. Even before I started the IF, I'd get comfy and just write something all evening, lol.

I do also have a tendency to take too much on because I get excited, so I'm using the info I've gathered to help me roll things back and keep myself realistic. So, I've determined that anything I do will be reserved to just a few tiers. We can always grow bigger later. I still do plan to rotate up to 3 projects. The second is to keep me from burnout on GC, and the 3rd is simply an outlet for me that I think others will find entertaining as well.

I have some solid time available coming up in October for me to hammer things out more definitely, so I'll be posting more around then about it. ^_^

Thanks again, my dear!

[game-boy-pocket]

Today, I beat Mario Kart World.

No screenshot. It's not like there's anything mindblowing as the end screen but I still want to be considerate of people avoiding all types of spoilers.

But come september, when I recap my Mario marathon, I will probably include that screenshot...

Speaking of my Marathon, I officially have 10 games left! Big milestone!

Also by "beat" the game I mean I just got gold on all the grand Prix. Not even 3 stars. So I have a lot of game left between attempting 3 stars and doing free roam stuff.

Anyway, thoughts on the game, it's definitely back to being on the more brutal side of the spectrum. I felt like a Total boss at Mario Kart 8 Deluxe compared to other Mario Kart games. Maybe not competitive level but I could generally get 3 stars on 200CC pretty consistently.... maybe it's just practice, but I do feel like this game has brought back "Getting Mario Karted", but also to keep in mind, I immediately started on 150CC... which... feels fine. Maybe we don't need 200CC after all.

The art direction and soundtrack are definitely the highlights of this game, it has a real 90's sitcom opening energy to a lot of the music, and if you know 90's sitcom openings, you know they go needlessly hard. And of course all the characters look amazing, the environments are some of my favorite in the series, it's kind of the perfect blend of more realistic style and the more wacky cartoon style.

As for Free Roam... I could see myself playing it quite a bit just to relax, go for a sunday drive from time to time. The missions are neat, not mind blowing. So i'll enjoy finding them. But just exploring the world aimlessly will be the real highlight of freeroam for me, it's delightful, even if I do wish there was a bit more to do.

I don't know how to feel about the structure of Grand Prix. It's a nice change of pace but I kind of wish there was at least an option to do 3 laps on the 2nd 3rd, and 4th course. It feels like they're over way too soon. I will say that I do enjoy the driving from race to race, but it's not as seamless as I was expecting it to be.

Anyway, is this game worth 80 dollars is the question... I guess that depends. On several things. One of the biggest being "What is Nintendo's post launch support going to look like? Will there be any free updates?", it also depends on the player, and how much they enjoy single player content, because this might be the most single player rich Mario Kart to date. I could see myself playing this for a very long time. I'm curious to see if this will surpass my total playtime for Mario Kart 8 Deluxe...

Speaking of... I'm not sure if this is going to be a total replacement for Mario Kart 8 Deluxe. It's very clearly a different kind of game. You have the free roam, obviously. But then the Grand Prix just feels more... Arcadey, if that makes sense. So, I feel like there will still be people playing Mario Kart 8 Deluxe even with Mario Kart World available.

Anyway, had fun, Im almost glad it arrived a day after my Switch 2, because it gave me something to look forward to after work, and I was able to give it more full attention instead of needing to worry about installing this and that and testing my Switch 1 games and so on.

Don't know if i'll say much more about this game, but i'll try to avoid posting any screenshots on here from my play sessions for a few more months.

[batrogers]

Thank you for tagging me @irenkaferalkitty! Let's see....

1. How many works on AO3? 228 works on AO3 (...assuming it includes the ones that'll be revealed as mine tonight.) [ETA: LOL nope, 230 now]

2. Total AO3 Word Count? 1.2 million

3. Top 5 fics by Kudos: "One Last Try", a Sirius & Regulus Harry Potter fic. "The Moon When I'm Lost in Darkness," an "Old Guard" movie fanfic for the main gay ship. "Even Cold Wars Have Warm Days Sometimes," a Hetalia Russia/America ship fic. "Never Enter the Mansion" a Hetalia HetaOni game novelization/completion. "Let the Weak Be Strong, Let the Right Be Wrong," a Sirius & Bellatrix in Azkaban fic. (Most of these are 5-10 years old)

4. What fandoms do you write for? Currently Zelda predominantly, but I dabble in a lot and may be getting back into Tolkien again soon. Previously my works are mainly Hetalia and Harry Potter, with some original pieces for exchanges and some Locked Tomb art. I do a lot of pinch hits, so there's a bunch of one-offs.

5. Do you respond to comments? When I remember to! I didn't used to but it does make for some nice conversations.

6. Angstiest Ending? "Wait for Me to Come Around Again" probably. Just a straight-up, PWP BOTW bad ending fic although it's not very long. Second place would probably go to "Be Good For Me" which is a HW bad ending fic, but at least they're alive at the end of that one!

7. Fic with the Happiest Ending? I'll go with "A Candle in the Darkness" -- Ravio's POV of Link Between Worlds! I love the ending lines.

8. Do you get hate? Very occasionally. I tend to just delete the comments unless they're ambiguous.

9. Do you write smut? LOL by several definitions of the word.

10. Do you write crossovers? Not in a long time, but I have in the past!

11. Ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I have one of my Hetalia ones ("Sex and Revolution", Prussia/France) that's been translated into (I think?) Mandarin! Which is extremely funny as a choice.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic? Several! Most recently with @triforce-of-mischief and @zarvasace on a few things.

14. All time favourite ship? I am resoundingly a multi-shipper, but at the moment I'll say Ganondorf/Link in most iterations because I do love a good villain ship.

15. WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will? "Blue Gem Earrings" -- My Ocarina of Time novelization. it's not out of the question, but novelizing games is something that is *incredibly* hard to do. I love what I got done so much, and I posted it knowing it likely wasn't going to move but. Still, perhaps one day.

16. Writing strengths? I get a lot of compliments on my world-building, which is something I do a lot of with my partner. (We also sort of co-write, but usually don't bother putting both of us down as it's much more in the brainstorming stage than prose.) The practice has clearly transferred, so you'll find a lot of my fics use similar worldbuilding and logic.

17. Writing Weaknesses? My discipline is not great LOL. Getting between scenes can be a trial for me, and I can get hung up on stuff because I just can't make a decision a lot.

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue? It depends on how its used and what its for. The mix has to make sense for the character and be the way someone would actually use multiple languages not just for shock or play and the context should either explain it or the lack of understanding be the point. (eg. in Doll % Run the dense academic language is an easter egg for those who can understand, but I have the POV character not understanding it be explicitly deliberate in text.)

19. First fandom you wrote for? Fuck if I know. First posted fic was probably Harry Potter on FF.net, but I think much of my stuff either got deleted or lost along the way.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written? I beg everyone to read "In the Shadow of Death" so lemme plug it again and make puppy eyes at everyone to please, pretty please give it a go LOL. Otherwise, tbh "One Last Try" is still a huge favourite of mine. It does so much with the Black family lore and the emotional beats of the two brothers, I see why it tops my kudos list.

Thanks again for the @, and who else should suffer.... @triforce-of-mischief and @zarvasace because y'all got shout outs already, uh @ketchupkio and anyone else who wants?

[katebishopofearth]

20 questions for 20 writers

tagged by @wheelsup-sevenup

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 69 (nice 😏)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 317,923

3. What fandoms do you write for? Marvel (mostly ironwidow) and Our Flag Means Death. I have some Clexa fics from back in the day but haven't written for the fandom in years.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? i'm kinda surprised by these but i guess that older fics and multichapter fics have more time to accumulate kudos? - Something Worth Living For (2498 kudos) - A Night of Drunken Revelry (564 kudos) - iron masks and spider kisses (534 kudos) - Broken (485 kudos) - The Art of Taking a Blade (461 kudos)

5. Do you respond to comments? YES A THOUSAND TIMES YES. I try to reply to every comment because each one is literally the best part of my day.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Oof. The shit I've put Natasha through lol. Probably falling. which is Natasha reflecting on her life as she falls to her death on Vormir. dream. is also up there, it's about kid!Natasha learning to love Yelena as a sister.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? "happiest" is not quantifiable lmao. In the context of canon, maybe Something Worth Living For, it was cathartic and healing to give Clarke and Lexa their happy ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Yup it's happened a handful of times, luckily few and far between, but they always feel like getting a splinter stuck in my skin for days afterwards.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I've written light smut of the sapphic variety. I'm ace so smut is never about the sex for me, it's about character dynamics, power and intimacy. For example, the (non-explicit) sex scene in iron masks and spider kisses is about Toni baring her deepest secrets to Natasha and letting herself be vulnerable with her, and Natasha's acceptance of Toni's scars and past.

10. Do you write crossovers? Nope. My brain doesn't work that way.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I think that some of my very early ironwidow fics have ended up on Wattpad :/

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I know of

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yup I've written a few early ironwidow fics for a challenge waaaaaay back in 2014, with the talented @auripigmentum, @kuailongs and SatinSatire. They helped me find my footing with writing ironwidow: Chemical Reaction (Tony gets kidnapped, Nat comes to his rescue), Never Simple (Natasha finds out secrets about her own past, angst ensues), and Good Intentions (speakeasy era AU that still lives in my head rent-free)

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? i'd be lying if i said anything other than ironwidow. It's the ship I keep coming back to for over a decade.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Oh god. The teen vigilante Avengers AU I was writing in 2014. Idk if it'll ever see the light of day but it was my all-consuming pride and joy for months.

16. What are your writing strengths? idk, you tell me. probably putting characters through angsty situations lmao. Also action scenes (thank u Warrior Cats).

17. What are your writing weaknesses? actually writing lmao. It's hard to get into the mood/mindest for writing. Also writing multichapter fics – my attention span isn't built for anything longer than a 5+1.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I rarely do this because I know that code-mixing (mixing two or more languages when speaking) is incredibly nuanced, varying depending on language, context, and individual speakers. I pretty much only do this when the character canonically code-mixes in speech, and I try to stick to how they would speak, in order to sound as natural as possible.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Warrior Cats when I was about 12 on deviantart. Good times.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Oh MAN. It's hard to choose a favourite child. I don't think this is my most well-written fic, but the question is asking for a favourite fic not a well-written one, and it's probably iron masks and spider kisses. I loved exploring fem!Toni, and her relationship with her gender and femininity. It's a specific flavour of ironwidow that I haven't found in many other fics (tho there are a couple out there that definitely influenced how i wrote this fic). It's also truly a labour of love – I started writing this around the time Endgame was coming out, and wrote it over a time of enormous change, angst and upheaval in my life.

This was so much fun! I love talking about my writing haha and sharing older fics.

Tagging: @queeenpersephone @autumnwoodsdreamer @missmacfire also i'm realising that i don't remember which of my mutuals is a writer (it's 1 am u can't blame me for this) so if you're a writer – especially if you're on the OFMD fic server – consider yourself tagged!

[mmdstuff]

MMD Model Ripping Discussion.

Original post this post is in response to:

DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT A LAWYER NOR DO I CLAIM TO BE. All things highlighted in BOLD refer to my opinion or important information.

What I do is rip assets from games and convert them into MMD for people to freely use. For distributing the ripped cameras from Project Diva I make sure to add the warning that Japanese users should not use these MMD cameras as it would be illegal for them in their country. I do not translate it Japanese as Japanese distributors are not expected to translate warnings into English (and don't most of the time), so I am not expected to translate it into Japanese. (Language barriers are also a problem).

When people rip from games they often add people who should be credited. Such as the person who ripped it, who made the tools to rip it, the original game and their creators who originally made the model and so on. In my opinion crediting the original source/creator of the model itself (I'm talking about the game it is from not the ripper) is necessary. I respectfully disagree with you on "not crediting are fine". Also the way you word that sentence confuses me. At first you say "not crediting are fine" but then you say "but on my opinion, no crediting is even worse than ripping []". So what is your take on it? Is it ok or not? [2] "The copyright holder simply needs to take appropriate action, and it is not something that outsiders who do not own the rights should be making a fuss about."

A lot of this comes down to different laws in different countries and how copyright is handled. In Japan, they take copyright very seriously and have very strict laws about it. However in other countries it can be more relaxed or less regulated. Most of the time in other countries there is less strict copyright law and it mostly comes down to opinion on what your morals and ethics are about it all depending on your country and culture.

I feel like most of the Japanese MMD community are ignorant or don't know that other countries have their own laws. [3] The Japanese try and hold the rest of the MMD community to Japanese standards in regard to model ripping and in terms of distribution rules with out any regard for other cultures. This is evident with how hard they make passwords, how they stop foreigners from using their stuff unless they are Japanese and can read Japanese. How they block distributions behind Japanese only forums. However, I can see why they do this based on their strict copyright laws and cultural norms. But in my eyes, I feel like they can take this way too far and hold unnecessary grudges against foreigners for past transgressions - this is based on my own experiences. [2] "However, this does not seem to be a problem for some people as they have begun to develop xenophobic views towards foreigners, or, if they find someone using the language incorrectly, they are suddenly banished from the area before being given any opportunity to improve."

I found this Deviant Art post also discussing the rift between the Japanese MMD community and the rest of the MMD community. I recommend you read it for further view points and discussions as well to help you form your own opinion OP. OP please research before making claims and please back claims up with sources. I agree and disagree with some of the things claimed in the link. For example I don't believe we should have be "[1] taken seriously as a community by the Japanese MMDC." What do we have to prove? All we need to do is be respectful towards each other.

All quotes from source [2] have been translated from Japanese from a Japanese article from the perspective of the author (who is also Japanese). Please see the article in Japanese for the original Japanese version. The webpage was translated using a translation Chrome extension.

Sources:

[1] https://www.deviantart.com/trackdancer/journal/MMD-Towards-an-understanding-of-the-Japanese-MMDC-374564214

[2] https://hatsune39.com/2020/08/16/mmd%E3%81%AE%E3%81%B6%E3%81%A3%E3%81%93%E6%8A%9C%E3%81%8D-%E3%83%AA%E3%83%83%E3%83%94%E3%83%B3%E3%82%B0%E3%83%A2%E3%83%87%E3%83%AB%E3%81%AB%E3%81%A4%E3%81%84%E3%81%A6/

[3]

I could write an essay about all of this to address multiple view points. At the end of the day you cannot please everyone and everyone should try and understand we all live in different places, with different laws, with different cultures, with different societal norms. I am sorry if I have offended anyone with my view points. If there is something I missed that may help better inform my opinion and understanding of the situation please reply with sources for me to further look into. I have fully read all sources and respect both the Japanese MMD community and the Overseas MMD community and have a better understanding of both sides of this debate. Being from the UK, it is acceptable for me to continue ripping but if you are Japanese please do not use my rips and respect my decision to do this. Thank you for reading.

This is just a short version. I will fully write a multiple page essay addressing these topics if needed. Giving both fact, opinions and cited sources.

[sugar-omi]

honestly all that was sooo what i needed to hear rn bc a girls been STRESSED so thank you <3 😭

i'm gonna major in biotechnology! i went to a votech and that was my trade there and i loved it so i wanna continue studying it. not totally sure what job i want yet so i don't know how much schooling i'll do but yeah! :D

BIOTECH??? THAT SOUNDS SO COOL N SO COMPLICATED please i literally had to google that shit bc idk what it entails but this is some big brain shit, n all i gotta say is good luck n i am cheering you ON!!🎉🫶🫶

although i think you got this in the bag already. anyone with the balls to do something so advanced. is a very smart n strong person. from what im reading on google this is some really cool shit, no matter what direction you go with it. n you have your work cut out for you, but i know you got this!!

so don't doubt yourself!! you got this!!! your brain is huge n you are powerful!!!!

n of course!!! i figured saying something like that would help with anyones anxiety, because really, its the pressure (even if they're not actually pressuring you) and the overwhelm of questions and expectations that make the future so stressfullll

*ramble utc because i... cannot help yapping i guess LOL and while i'd usually be embarrassed and delete my ramble n word vomit, but i figure someone else readding this may appreciate the relatability of what i have to say about my fams reaction to my plan after hs, and find some comfort in my word, if thats not to presumptuous

because i decided to take a gap year (it's been a year since i graduated, for reference), and everyone freaked out. my mom n uncles first reaction was "yeah well, you won't go if you do..." before they came around n agreed with my reasoning. and my dad was all "if i had it my way, you'd go full time--" (mind u, he likes to brag that he worked n went to school full time AND partied.... he did not finish college LMAO) and when i graduated, said to me a MONTH. AFTER MY GRADUATION. "if you're not going to college any time soon, go into the air force."

and when my extended family would ask my plans, and i only had a short "i'm just gonna take a break right now, figure some things out, work... and by then i'll have come to a decision." because i was tossing around the thought of art school, and then i thought abt getting an english degree to be either a teacher or go into writing/editing, journaling or whatever... but was also tossing around the thought of psychology and even real estate. my ideas for my future were absolutely jumbled, and i was torn between what would make money, what i loved, and what i was interested in that i thought could be a career.

it's tough. especially depending on your financial situation yknow, so your thought process always leads towards something profitable but also wanting to do something you enjoy, maybe even love, but not wanting to burn out and tarnish your beloved hobby/hobbies.

like while i did have people who supported me upfront, and never doubted my plan, it's the small things too yknow. because for months my dad's words haunted me, i felt like i wasn't doing enough. or when i met family, and they asked how it was going, or what i was doing now, i felt disappointed that my answer was always "i haven't been doing anything. just been sleeping, drawing, writing..." or eventually that and "practiced driving.. n that's about it."

or when i'd talk to close family members, and i admitted i was going through a hard time, my mental state finally falling on me now that i didn't have to be strong n power through school. i even got sick a couple times, because my body was finally feeling the stress. even now, i feel a mental lag, a fog. but i feel clearer, a bit.

but yknow, the looks and the "you said that last time" or "i think you're lying" is tough.

but at the end of the day, if not working for the summer, or not going to college for a semester, or 2, or 3, or a whole year. or if going part time, or whatever you're doing... and it benefits you, and it benefits your mental health. then do it, don't listen too much, don't feel too guilty.

because if you need it, just like i needed the time to rejuvenate, then don't listen to anyone else. don't force yourself to do anything. because if you have the ability to take a break now, do it. you're not doing this because you're lazy, or selfish, or unambitious. or anything like that. you're taking that break, you're taking this break right now, for future you.

because if you don't take it now, when will you take it? and when you do take a break... will it be at the cost of your health? will it be at the cost of something greater? when the break comes, will it come when you're being handed the gold medal you've been fighting for.. and then it slips out of your hand just like that.

anyway.. do whats best for you. what you need. don't worry about figuring things out too fast either, because in fact, i've been plotting this moment of my life for about 10 years, genuinely, and i still had to revise it. still had to come to a conclusion because even with all that plotting, it doesn't plan for the hard times. or the 'you' you are right now. you will be someone else next week. and you will be someone entirely different 2 months from now.

take your time. because if you jump into something, and are unsatisfied, or "waste" time doing something other than what you "should be doing", the time still passes.

if you "waste time" anyway, waste it on yourself. not others expectations. or wishes. or their dreams.

and once enough time passes as well, no matter what you do by then. the questions do stop coming. the weight of the future, once you get there, is suddenly not so... big. intimidating.

you do not need a grandiose plan. if you are content with the future in your mind, that is enough. because at the end of your life, who will sit in that chair and ponder the life you lived, and weight it's satisfaction, if not you?

[go-go-devil]

2, 7, 8, 10 for the animation asks :D

2) When was the exact moment when you realized just how much you admire animation as an art form unique from other media?

Honestly I fully believe the EXACT moment arose when I rewatched The Secret of NIMH for the second time as a 14-year-old. I had already enjoyed it when I first saw it back when I was 7, but seeing it again with a maturing brain and a finer eye for the craft of 2D animation really made me appreciate how well made the film was, both in terms of technical achievements and story

Of course, this also lead to the faithful event of me looking up the trailer to the movie on youtube and seeing in my recommendations a trailer to a film I had never heard of called Watership Down. I clicked on that video, and the rest was history ;)

7) What is your favorite cartoon series?

Fuck that's too hard of a pick! If I was forced to, though, I would probably swap between Bojack Horseman and Spongebob Squarepants (Seasons 1-3) depending on whether I'm in the mood for depressing or joyful eccentric animal people 🐴 🧽

8) What was the first adult animation you’ve seen?

The very first one HAD to have been The Simpsons. While it took me until I was 9 to actually become obsessed w/ the series I know for a fact I caught it on TV several times before when I was younger

While Simpsons most likely predated it, I do have a very clear memory of the 1st time I ever saw South Park. I believe I was either 5 or 6, seated all alone in the living room at my nanny's house while everyone else was in the kitchen partying, and while flipping thru the channels I caught the last 10 minutes of the episode where the boys and Jesus Christ try to save Santa Claus from a group of terrorists, at the scene where Jesus riddled with bullets and dies. The funny part about it was that I wasn't even scared by it. I legit thought I was watching a serious drama just because Jesus was killed in front of a group of children and just accepted it XD

10) When did you first discover anime?

Technically the first anime I can remember watching were Hamtaro and Pokemon, with Yu Gi Oh following shortly after. However, the first anime I watched after learning what the term anime meant was Death Note. It was a pretty significant moment for me since it was the first cartoon I ever got obsessed with that wasn't made for children, and thus taught me that animation isn't something that's exclusive to kids like me. After that I absorbed as much "mature" anime as I could find to show off how cool I was (and by mature I of course meant shows for teenagers lol)

[bucky-boychik-barnes]

Few questions about the Pocket AU

1. Is it just Steve and Bucky who have the Pockets? Does anyone else have them? If so, who are they a representation of and what is their adorable name?

2. Was it hard to come up with a way to include Pockets in history?

3. Are there any cute drawings of the Pockets? I've seen a few, but I want to know how much art there is in total.

Hope you're well.

Anonymous👍

Pockets are common in society in this 'verse! They appear when a very strong bond forms (or is going to form, in rare cases) between two people.

For instance, Tony has a number of Pockets because he is a needy attention goblin. He for sure has a Pocket Pepper (Salt), a Pocket Bruce (Little Green), and a Pocket Rhodey. (Pocket Rhodey is Jim. He would not accept anything else. Rhodey is so damn proud of the little dude.)

Pocket Rhodey is so tired. He's a Pocket, he shouldn't be, but. He's so tired. And so relieved when Salt shows up and even more with Little Green, even if they did let Tony get away with terrible names. And god help the soulmates that have a Tony Pocket - that's a lot of obnoxiousness in a tiny tiny body.

As for their names, it depends! It is up to their soulmates to name them, but a Pocket has to agree to it's name. Sometimes, that means a Pocket goes a few days without a name. Sometimes it means a Pocket will decide to go by the first thing it's soulmate says when they are found, leading to names like 'Ahfuk' or 'Helno' (who are a very happy pair.)

As for Pockets throughout history, I just knew I wanted them to be something that has been around as long as people have. I'm not much of a history person but I do know that meant that artifacts about them would have to be found throughout history. I imagine the 3000 year Egyptian empire left a WEALTH of Pocket things. They probably mentioned a place in Punt that made Pocket clothes and then never wrote down where it was.

@chaos-and-ink has drawn two adorable Pocket drawings! One of Booky in WW2, and one of Steeb and Booky in Civil War-era clothing. And while they are not Pocket drawings, I would be ashamed if I didn't mention the inspiration behind the entire Pocket AU: @awrubyblue's wonderful series on Bucky finding a strange little Steebling in a Hydra lab. I have some commission ideas, but will still die of happiness if more drawings happen.

[captain-303]

SOMA

Tower of Fantasy (playing this one has been a permanent thing since it released) I'm also playing Cyberpunk 2077

Mouthwashing, Devil May Cry 5, NieR Replicant

It depends how much I like a game and how much effort I have to put in, I loved the NieR games and they're aren't THAT hard to 100% so I did that for them, but for the Metro games, although I really enjoyed them they are quite hard so I didn't even try to 100% them!

Silent Hill f

I grew up playing Watch Dogs with my Dad, we didn't play any missions, he would drive around and I would just hack traffic lights and stuff. That was really fun. Now my hands are big enough to do both! And I always find myself playing Watch Dogs 2 every now and then because it's simply that good!

Assassin's Creed. I also used to play this with my Dad, we would take turns playing AC Black Flag, I can remember vividly we captured an island fort while there were a bunch of tornadoes everywhere. Anyway, I don't really play the games any more, I like rewatching the movie and I've read some of the books but that's about it!

I'd really like to play one of the Yakuza games or either of the Judgment games

I played SOMA completely blind and I do not regret it

Playstation 2 has a bunch of great games so I'd like that one

I don't mind between a blank slate or a really well written character

V from Cyberpunk is suitably goofy

True by Akira Yamaoka from Silent Hill 2

Want you Gone sung by Ellen McLain from Portal 2

I have a collection in my steam library called "Unplayed :(", currently it has 132 games. I don't want to play all of them but there's a few in there I want to get around to playing eventually. That and my steam wishlist!

NieR Automata. Sort of. Technically I've already replayed the game a bunch to get all of the endings, but I feel like 1 true play through of the games requires you to achieve all of the 26 endings. Also the game deleted my save file at the end sooooo I kind of want to get back to where I was and replay the boss fights especially!

I really want to finish Middle Earth: Shadow of War but it's reaaaaaally long

NieR Replicant has a pretty small map but it's really nice, if I were to pick a specific location it would have to be Nier's village

Metal Gear Rising Revengeance, the prologue for that game is the second coolest thing ever. Coolest ever is the final boss of that game naturally!

SENATOR STEVEN ARMSTRONG - Metal Gear Rising Revengeance

General Sebastiano Di Ravello (Just Cause 3) was pretty underwhelming, he had way too much health and his attacks were way too easy to avoid

SOMA. (I realise this is the game I finished most recently however it's a damn good ending) The bait and switch right at the end of that game is incredible, the unbelievable feeling of hopelessness it leaves you with is truly something I've never seen replicated anywhere else, not in a book or a movie or another game.

When Raiden's new gamer mouse body is revealed at the start of the second level of Metal Gear Rising Revengeance

Mouthwashing has a really neat art style

FAITH's retro art style took a while for me to truly appreciate

Stylized

Ghostwire: Tokyo had a really great atmosphere

Portal, I actually started with Portal 2. Then I got stuck because I'm kind of stupid, so I started Portal 1. Then I got stuck with Portal 1, so many years later I restarted Portal 2 and completed it, then did the same for Portal 1! I don't really recommend doing this, although I do think it's a pretty good idea to start with Portal 2, because it is definitely the better game and might get a new player more interested in the series!

I'm always playing Tower of Fantasy, I usually have 1-2 different games going on the side

Cyberpunk 2077 probably, I've finished the main game but I'm replaying it and this time I'm going to complete the Phantom Liberty DLC too

I think they should play Pikuniku because it's the best game ever made. Seriously though, it's not super hard, quite funny, and is relatively short so it's a good one to start with!

Video Game Asks!

Adding my own pool of asks about video games because I always like to talk games and asks are fun. Send numbers, reblog for yourself etc.

Last game you finished

Game(s) you’re currently playing

1-3 games you’ve played in the past 12 months that you really enjoyed

Do you like to get 100% achievements/trophies?

Game(s) coming out that you’re looking forward to

A series you’ve enjoyed since your early days of gaming and still enjoy to this day whether it still has games coming out or is one you return to

A series you’ve lost interest in

A series you haven’t played but are interested in trying

A game you played completely blind with no prior knowledge of and enjoyed/loved

A console and/or handheld you’ve never played but would like to try

Do you prefer ‘blank slate’ main characters you make yourself or otherwise project onto, or characters with a set personality and backstory?

A character you particularly like in the game you’re currently playing

Quick, name the first song from a game that comes to mind

A song that’s sure to hit your nostalgia buttons

Do you have a backlog and do you keep track of it? If so, how?

A game you’d like to replay that you haven’t

A game you didn’t finish but would like to get back to or restart someday

A game location you really like

A game you started up for the first time and you knew from the start it was going to be great

A boss you think is really cool

A boss that was disappointing

A game ending that’s really stuck with you

A “Wow” moment of awe

A game with a cool art style

A game’s art style that had to grow on you

Realism or stylized?

A game you love the atmosphere of

Pick a series you like. What was the first game you played for it? Was it a good starting point? Would it still be a good starting point now?

On average do you have one game or multiple games going?

Game you think you’ll finish next?

Someone has never played a video game before but is open to trying any genre. What game would you recommend as their first?

[kuu-stuff]

20 October 2024

Got a bad case of art block again... I guess that I start to stress about my comic being good enough again. I delayed this week's part and now only drew like a page per day, what's kind of bad... I feel kind of bad in general, for some reason. Since last week I've been quite depressed and can't focus on anything. And I sleep like 3h per night then another 2 or 3 later in the morning. I don't have energy for anything and it's building up my anxiety. The weather is a little weird too, it's cold at night outside so we don't have the ac on but during the day it's still way too hot but going between cold and hot like that makes me sick. This country is really cursed ah ! ✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰ Since I'm been feeling down it was the perfect time to think about "This time I can share it with you", because it's a depressing story. Yeah you don't know it yet but I poured all my life-saved desperation into it. I'm looking forward to work on it too, it feels like an itch to wait another 2 weeks to do it. I'm still thinking about whatever make it extra sad or have them being cute and happy sometimes. I think both of those idiots are a little bit destroyed beyond repair so it would be more logical for it to go badly on every levels. But I also want to find a believable way to make Silas feel a little better at least. He really cornered himself there... I get it why the author let him die at the end of Da Vinci Code. Anything else would be worse. I mean, the guy had nothing his whole life, was nothing and has no purpose at all. He literally saw himself as a ghost most of his life and then when in prison he was waiting for nothing else but to die. And after being saved by the bishop he seems to not even being super buddy buddy with him, he was mostly admirative of him and wanted to repay him for giving him a life. And he really thought he could do it in the book, thus why he's so smug and all, he really believes he's doing something good, good in the sense that it will bring something good for the bishop and the Opus Dei, he does know that he will have to repent for it for the rest of his life. All he wanted is to be someone. To have a purpose. And to prouve to the bishop that he was right to believe in him. So when it turned out to be a ruse and fell for it so easily, going against everything he believes in as a monk, the bishop learning way too late that he made him kill 5 people, it broke the only image he made of himself since he was a child. It was his only chance at being something. Because even as a monk he was just a monk. With no real goal or future but praying for forgiveness and hoping to someday repay Aringarosa. And at the end all he did was to disappoint him and bring him misfortune. Fucked up. Brown is so cruel lol. His personality is hard for me to get right because his sides of him mix in a way that is hard to understand how he'd behave in situations. Sometimes he's super cruel, sometimes he seems to not care much, sometimes he cares too much and sometimes he helps people and worry for them and seems generally kind. It really depend on the people and the situation. I mean, I get that but I don't know in what category place Sasha. And there is a wide range of emotion he's shown having in the book. And since he's been alone most of his life he might not be able to connect to people at all. So I'm still analyzing him lol. But I love my boy and I'll find a way. Also since I made Sasha even more fucked up in every aspects I'm myself fucked up in, it makes me indulge into very bad thinking working on it and sometimes it goes a bit far and I make myself depressed lol. Poor lady. Silas only being a random dude to her, only makes me wonder how I possibly could make her happier too. And Silas is not the kind of person who could comfort her at all. Ah lala... That story is not going into a great direction is it ?