#just if you prefer to read it this way i guess

[stayconnecteed]

🪐˓⠀˚⠀i guess i'm in love⠀@⠀kim seungmin.

this is just a cute birthday fic based on the love of my life @skzms and her seungmin's drabble 'seungmin in love', which i totally recommend before you read this. i hope you like it, may, and that i made justice to your words!! i listened to i guess i'm in love by clinton kane while writing this. the beginning of the plot is based on a personal experience! i wish it had ended that way tho askjdhkasjd

SEE MORE.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀4k words. ⠀⠀general mlist.⠀⠀join taglist.

You had never mustered the courage to talk to a boy until university made you come out of your shell. The morning you had stepped into the lecture hall for the first time, ready to listen to the dean of your faculty give the introductory talk, you had sat alone in one of the front rows, hanging on every word, your heart racing. You didn't know anyone, and you preferred to focus on the speech, waiting for some extrovert to adopt you, rather than take the first step.

You had always been shy, and you felt a sense of panic at the thought that you might end up alone for the whole degree, but you were incapable of approaching a stranger and starting a conversation. Your fear was a prison and the guardian of an anxiety that swirled in your chest, the number one reason why you had hidden in the same table in the library during all your free hours, and also the consequence of too many bad experiences in the past. 

But then you had met Seungmin.

You hadn't spoken, at least not at first. You hadn't even realised he existed. He was just another classmate in the core subjects shared by all those who studied the same course as you. He smiled softly at the jokes of the teachers he liked, became more serious in the most difficult lectures, and tried not to show his anger when the typical annoying repeat student made their trademark rancid comment. You hadn’t even known his name.

Eventually, you found yourself waiting for those little reactions. Like you, he also showed up ten minutes before the first class started, he also sat alone, and he also came to school with his headphones on, drowning out all the noise in the corridors with the playlist he had made for himself at the beginning of the course. He would arrive with his dark blue backpack slung over one of his broad shoulders, and a book in his hand ーthe same one he would read for a while before the professor arrived. You found yourself smiling as you watched him, writing down the titles of his readings, looking forward to the classes you shared with him.

And then you saw him appear for the first time in the library. You were at one of the more secluded tables, your back to the wall, your laptop a shield protecting you from the other people in the room. And he had slipped quietly in, his ears covered by the black headphones, leaving his backpack on the table in front of yours. For a moment you had stood still, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, the word on your document half-typed, your breath caught in your throat. And then you looked away, and went on with your work. It was stupid to react like that for someone you didn't know.

But the next day your little dance was repeated, sitting opposite each other, in complete silence, a calm and concentrated reflection. As if there was a mirror between the two tables. And the next day, and the next... Until it became a habit. You would leave class a little late because you knew it would take him longer to collect his belongings, and you'd follow each other's shadows with your gazes through the corridors until you reached the library. He would hold the door, and you would smile at him. And when you left him the book you'd used to find out information about a homework topic, he'd return the soft curve in his lips, showing his braces without an ounce of insecurity.

Despite all your little interactions, you hadn't really made any move. The day you realised that there was another girl waiting for him at the end of your class, a more outgoing and prettier one, the kind who always gave the right answers to the teacher. She was asking him if he could explain to her the latest topic discussed in class over a latte in the building's cafeteria. You felt like you intruded, so you left. But that had been the same day you went to the library alone, and you had to open the door for yourself. You missed his smile. And you realised that he was worth every tremor in your hands, only if it meant taking the first step with him.

The next day, you mustered the courage to talk to a boy. To that boy. You approached him before class, sitting one line forward of him, taking a deep breath of air and exhaled it as you tried to keep your nerves under control, your eyes closed. With your pulse racing you had turned, resting your fingertips on his desk, and caught his attention by waving softly. He had looked up from the intertwined sentences of his book, closing it as soon as he saw it was you addressing him, and you enjoyed a few more seconds of your bubble, his brownish gaze all over you, before bursting it.

Your words were quick and breathy, stammering over coffees and shared hours, your gaze anywhere in the class but on his face. Yet he responded calmly, a mask of stillness in contrast to the chaos of emotions spiralling inside him, and you only interrupted the conversation when the teacher began the lesson, Seungmin's gaze returning to your figure every few seconds. That was the first free hour you disrupted your way to the library and accompanied, shoulder to shoulder, your quiet classmate to the cafeteria.

You heard him order an iced americano with syrup, greeting the lady behind the counter with rehearsed confidence, and waiting, tracing his gaze across the profile of your face, for you to say what you wanted. Then he guided you to one of the tables at the back, and let you sit on the bench with its back against the wall. Almost as if, somehow, he knew that it was what you preferred. For a moment  you wanted to get your hopes up, to think that he thought of you as much as you thought of him, but it didn't actually make any sense. So you sighed, and set your bag down beside you, intertwining your fingers in a nervous gesture.

You had been the one to propose the plan, and suddenly you realised that you had been so sure he would say no that you hadn't planned any further.

You wandered your gaze in silence, steadily, slowly, trying not to meet his at any point, your shyness forcing stitches of thread on your lips, unable to utter a word, until the waitress appeared with her tray and your drinks, and Seungmin's raspy ‘thank you’ broke through your bubble. You uttered your own, no sound coming out of your throat, and flashed the start of a smile when he managed to continue a conversation that hadn't existed until then, asking how you had adjusted to the lectures, to college.

And then you let loose like a torrent. The stuttering edges of your lips tightened, answering in short words how your university experience was going, daring even to lock your eyes with his when you returned the question, wanting to hear him speak. And as he told a story similar to yours, albeit with many more friends than you had, you reached your trembling hands towards your cup, taking it and sipping a small amount of coffee.

You tried not to let it show, but the bitterness was enveloping your taste buds in a flavour you were not used to. Your eyebrows furrowed as you winced, swallowing the thick liquid in one gulp, avoiding triggering your gag reflex, and you looked back at Seungmin, who was watching you with a hard stare. He tilted his head, almost like a dog would, and picked up the cup you had just set down on its plate, wetting his lips to taste it. He opened his eyes slightly, muttering a soft, “This is not what you ordered,” and got up to go reclaim it.

You felt the heat rise up your neck and settle on your cheeks, unable to believe what had just happened, and watched from your warm seat as the boy spoke to the woman he had greeted earlier, how she was surprised and certainly apologetic due to the confusion, and the whole process of making from scratch what you had ordered in the first place. It was Seungmin's gentle smile when she returned, treating the porcelain with extreme care so as not to spill the contents, that made you suppress the apology you had thought of saying. Perhaps he had decided that it was his responsibility, that the barista had mistaken the order, but he had done it because he had wanted to. You could read it on his face.

“Thank you so much,” you said, brushing his skin with your fingers as you took the new mug, closing your eyes to smell the sweet, thick hot chocolate you loved so much. “You didn't have to.”

Winter was beginning, and with it the need to drown yourself in cosy blankets, at-home plans and movie classics that had become your favourites over time. So you told Seungmin when you opened your eyes and realised that he was watching you, trying not to retreat into the shyness that had been with you for so long. You were ready to get out of your comfort bubble once and for all, and having a conversation with someone who in your thoughts was no longer a stranger seemed like the natural option.

After that, it was relatively easy. The words flowed between you, asking each other about your lives and replying with more questions, exchanging anecdotes, dropping little jokes that elicited laughter, lost in each other's gaze. As easy as breathing, the minutes passing by on the clock without even being aware of it, learning to read a new language, through what you told each other. Opinions and experiences, comments and compliments, engaged in a dance that only you knew, until the alarm on your phone started ringing, and you realised you were late.

You apologised with hurried syllables, quickly packing up, waving goodbye, heading hastily towards the counter to pay for your drink. You were surprised when the woman indicated that Seungmin had already taken care of it, and you looked back for a few seconds to give him a beaming smile. He mirrored it, leaning against the table you had been sitting at, and waved his fingers in response. It was when you got into the bus, on the way to the restaurant where you had agreed to meet your sister, that you realised you hadn't asked him for his phone number.

Apparently, you weren't the only one to think so.

The morning after your disaster of a first conversation, you arrived early. You sat in the third row, the fourth seat, just like you always did. And you doodled in your notebook, deep in thought, until you heard someone clearing their throat next to you. You looked up, smiling when Seungmin made an exaggerated gesture of wanting to sit next to you, and managed not to burst out laughing at his antics when the teacher came through the door to start the class.

And it was when you were barely able to keep your eyes open, the teacher's voice lulling you into a light sleep, that you noticed the tip of Seungmin's finger brushing your arm. You turned, ignoring the shiver that ran down your spine, and instead of questioning what he wanted, you found a sheet of paper folded over the pen that had slipped from your hand. You opened it discreetly, glancing at Seungmin out of the corner of your eye, curious, and didn't bother to suppress the smile that curved your lips as you read a tight “What's your phone number?”.

You wrote it down quickly, going over each digit twice to make sure there could be no confusion, and slid it across the table for Seungmin to tuck it away. You nodded goodbye to him as the bell rang, and you had to part ways, him going to the opposite side of the corridor, to another class. You grabbed your bag, and sighed, not so keen to attend your remaining lecture. At least until at least twenty minutes into it your phone screen lit up, receiving a new notification.

Unknown number: Hey, is it true that Mr Choi’s classes are soo boring?

Unknown number: Or my contact in his classes has shamelessly lied to me?

The contact in Professor Choi's class was you, because you had complained the day before about him, and the unknown number had to be Seungmin. You put the phone under the table, hoping the teacher wouldn't notice and begin to dislike you, and typed in the answer:

You: Mmm, you shouldn’t trust your contact.

You: They wouldn’t be boring if you were here.

Seungmin 🫶🏼: Naah, I bet my classes wouldn’t be boring if my contact could attend them.

You: You can't use my sentence with me.

You: That's like cheating.

Seungmin 🫶🏼: Would it be cheating if I bribe you with a cup of hot chocolate?

You: Whatever you say, lover boy.

You tried to imagine Seungmin's reaction, your subconscious tricking you with images of him blushing in the middle of class, and left the phone in your bag. That interaction had made your day.

From then on, you could only continue to develop your friendship, intertwing yourselves like a tangled vine, unable to separate from each other. The Christmas holidays had distanced you a bit, each enjoying a few weeks of relaxation with your family, but the study period leading up to the exam season brought you back together at that table in the library, exchanging complicit glances and helping each other take breaks when the stress got too much. He was the perfect study partner, and it was reflected in your grades, none of which dropped below a C.

At the end of finals, in those days before the second semester started, Seungmin had invited you to one of the pubs his friends had shown him. He had told you that they hadn't gone because he didn't want them to say anything stupid in front of you, but you hadn't missed them. With a glass in his hand, he had followed you to the dance floor every time you had asked, neck flushed and shy eyes when he saw the alcohol had disinhibited you enough to move your hips freely. It had been a memorable night. And when it struck three in the morning, he was the one who escorted you to your flat, just to make sure you got there safely, and you were the one who begged him to stay with you.

The second semester began with many hours of late arrivals to class 一something you hated, but which was certainly more bearable in his company.

You would gather as soon as you arrived to the faculty on one of the benches by the entrance, he sitting comfortably with his ankle on his thigh, you with your knees against your chest, jumping from conversation to conversation until the bell started ringing, startling you, and you would run up the stairs together, to get to class before the teacher. You learned to cope with it because somehow the stress of being late was compensated by the way Seungmin would touch you so he wouldn't lose you in the corridors. Always behind you, like a guard dog, guiding you to your class with his hand resting on the small of your back, making sure you got in before he wandered off into the crowd in search of his own, in case you didn't share it.

And in the free hours you got to know his friends, or at least some of them. The first time was in a class that was cancelled at the last minute, on your way to the library, when you saw Seungmin's silhouette in the cafeteria, his broad shoulders framing the back of the chair. You greeted the short boy and the one with the narrow eyes with a shy smile, before asking them if they would let you sit next to Seungmin.

You had seen the knowingly smirks, and also their suspicious gazes, but they had made you feel like a long time friend of theirs, so you shaked the creepy feeling out of your body. You stayed silent most of the conversation, listening to their jokes and anecdotes, smiling upon the fact that they treated Seungmin like a brother 一teasing him to death. And from then on you always found a free seat by his side in your gatherings.

Your confidence with them, with Changbin and Jeongin, solidified at about the same time as you accepted that Seungmin just saw you as one of the group, and you tried to stop getting your hopes up. Throughout the semester, you began to participate in conversations with his friends, gaining confidence, and even participating more in class, socialising with classmates and getting to know some girls with whom you thought a friendship could develop. You noticed Seungmin was becoming a bit distant, but with your Friday movie nights and your weekly coffee (hot chocolate for you, he made sure they didn't mess it up again), you assumed he had simply decided that he had other priorities.

At least until the beginning of sophomore year, the night of Minho's birthday celebration. That october night, you had arrived late to the restaurant where the group had decided to hang out in, and the place where you normally sat, to Seungmin's right, was occupied by a freckle-faced blond you had seen around the dorm on some occasion. You greeted Seungmin with a quick kiss on the cheek, a high five with Jeongin, and went straight to the birthday boy, to congratulate him with a hug.

You had spent the whole week crocheting cute fruit-shaped hats for his cats, just because a joke you two had, and Minho's genuine reaction had been to take you in his arms and turn you around, both of you giggling. You remembered that he had told you he couldn't wait to get home to try them on his babies, and you had commented that it was a crime for him to be all lonely on the table on such a special day. With the excuse, you had sat next to each other, leaning like two old oaks so that you could hear each other over the music, your knees touching and his arm over your chair.

At one point, after all the group had gathered, when you had followed Minho's unfocused gaze at Seungmin, his eyes gave off such a hard acrimony that you thought you had done something awfully wrong.

You tried to talk to him about it the next day, when you woke up in your bed, but he wasn't by your side. Seungmin, who normally would be curled up against one of your pillows, had actually slept on the sofa instead, and when you asked him why over breakfast, you got no answer. You could see him building up anger and complex emotions inside, unable to utter a word, trying to decide what to do, before desist and wish you a good morning, leaving you on the kitchen. The absence of that trust you thought you shared broke your heart.

And yet, that very same night he showed up at the university party night that Jeongin had proposed 一Thursdays were his favourite days to go out. He appeared at the pub without even looking at you, as if it pained him to see you, deliberately sitting at the other end of the table. The second time since the two of you had met that you weren't next to each other.

At that moment you ordered the first drink. And they just kept on coming.

You tried not to care. For a few hours, you managed to make it happen. But when that boy approached you, with the soft look Seungmin always gave you, with the same wide smile he reserved for you, you decided that willing to lie to yourself, at least you should get something out of it. So when he pressed his hips to yours, you let him, and when he put his arms around your waist, you allowed it. You rested your head on his shoulder, knowing that his body didn't feel next to yours the way Seungmin's did, and as you felt him slide his hand down the back of your neck, you smiled, kissing him back just as eagerly.

But the spell melted on your fingers as you parted, and you found all the details in his face that made him so different from Seungmin. So you apologised to him, again and again as you escaped his embrace, wandering around the dance floor until you collided with Changbin. He gave you a bright smile, asking you how you were doing with Wonwoo, but the pout that formed on your lips made him react, taking you by your shoulders and interrogating you about the guy, Wonwoo, if he had crossed a line with you. All you managed to do was deny, before asking him to take you home.

It was a terrible night. For you, and for him, who nursed you back to sleep.

And it was also terrible to wake up, when you realised you were alone in your flat. Alone, tangled in your sheets, and the alarm clock ringing, reminding you that you had a schedule to follow, and you had to go to class.

Seungmin was not on your self proclaimed bench when you arrived, though you sat down to wait for him anyway. And when the bell rang you walked up the stairs, slowly, like a soul wandering the corridors of the faculty, ignoring the professor's disapproving face when you interrupted his speech by opening the door. You paid no attention to his words, sittimg down and doodling on your notebook, enduring as best you could the hour that lasted, leaving as soon as you could.

But then you saw him. With his blue backpack slung over his shoulder, and the brown sweatshirt you had stolen from him some chilly afternoons. And you made eye contact with him, but continued on your way. You couldn't face him. All you could think about was the way he had ignored you, as you heard his footsteps, and how you had kissed another boy just because it looked like him. You went down the stairs, the necessity to get out of there bubbling in your chest, wlaking through the doors of the building. You knew he was behind you, but you wanted to be able to ignore him too.

Until you heard him.

“I love you,” he whispered, and you stopped in your tracks, paralysed. He then repeated it, this time louder. “I love you, I’m so sorry but I love you.”

Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned around slowly, utterly convinced that it was your imagination. But his kicked out expression was a reflection of how you felt, brows furrowed upwards, the waterline of his pretty eyes covered by a bubble of unreleased tears, tortured by his absence. And his cheeks were coloured red, flushed with the shame that let you know it was true. Still, he was looking at you with a devotion you were able to clearly see now, like you hung the stars in the sky. All you had once imagined was true, and he was there, waiting for your response.

So you approached him, a shy smile curving your lips, and rested your hands on his shoulders, nodding.

“I love you too,” you murmured, lips moving against his, his breathe hitching. And kissed him. Eyes closed, feeling a sigh slipping in between your mouths, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs while he took you by your waist. And you kept smiling, your chest exploding in relief, savouring him like it would be the last time you would see him.

“I love you too, you jerk,” your repeated, resting your forehead on his.

© stayconnecteed 2024 ★ do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms ! consider leaving a comment or reblogging.

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕄𝕦𝕥𝕖 𝕪𝕖𝕥 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕧𝕖 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @stellas-starry-stories13 request: woahhhh your inbox is still open

i have t requed genshin from you in a while 🧐🧐🧐

how abboutttttttttt

lyney, freminet, maybe heizou?

with a gf whos mute but has like a ton of personality

like who knew movements of hands and words on a paper could get so chaotic and like could be so expressive???

idk if you get that but wtv

stay hydrated bee!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ I mean~ Last time it was 10 and now it was 15 hihihi

Anyway MY SHORTIE BOYS ONFHAJDHDHS you can tell I'm excited I could write for them >w<

Either way~ I hope you like it!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

✧ Lyney is a percpetive man. So when you're mute but still expressive, he'll always notice it if he's around

✧ he may be quite a rambler sometimes but whenever he hears or sees you even reaching for your pen, he'll immidietly shut his mouth and wait for you to write what you want to tell him

✧ no one better talk when you're trying to write and show the text... he can accept talking when you're writing but when you finish, he'll quickly shut up the person

"Hold on for a second. I believe my lover wants to tell us something."

✧ he'll be a bit more polite if it's Arlecchino though... or anyone dangerous for him for that matter

✧ he also gets the hang of what your different hand movements mean overtime!

✧ for example, if you're excited you'll swish around the paper energetically, but when you're sad you'll do so a bit unwillingly... And when you're angry? You sometimes rip some paper off by the strength you use on it!

✧ and you bet he won't hesitate to point it out~ Not in necessarily teasing matter though... usually he just wants to appreciate it a bit~

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @stellas-starry-stories13 - come get your charming magician~

✧ Heizou as detective is rather perceptive person because of his experience in that field

✧ so despite you being mute, he quickly noticed all your qualities~

✧ he adores how you could express so much without even saying a word... And the more time he spent with you, the more he knew!

✧ he likes how he could immideitly guess how you're feeling just by how your eyes or hands move within time of a second

✧ he doesn't say this out loud just like that though... he finds it much more interesting to just keep it to himself~

✧ though if you ask him if he's bothered that you can't exactly say what you think... he won't hesitate before explaining it to you

"Boring? Are you kidding me? You're the exact opposite of that! You're literally so expressive with your body language. Don't think it goes unnoticed around me~"

✧ honestly, he doesn't even need to look at paper or your sign language to know what you're talking sometimes... he sometimes just guesses what you wanted to say by your energy alone

✧ of course he'll tease you about it... it's his character after all! But he always makes sure to read or see everything you wanted to tell him with utmost attention

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot - come get your flirty detective~

✧ Freminet is a rather shy person so he always valued acts of service a bit more than conversations

✧ not because he hated them, but because they always carried stress alongside...

✧ though with you? Maybe at first he felt forces to talk more... but soon he finds the fact you can just sit next to each other and write

"I know I can talk... but... writing with you just feels so much better... It's like we're having our moment no one knows about... T-That was weird, wasn't it? Uh... Sorry..."

✧ despite not being mute himself, he still prefers to write in one notebook with your instead of talking out loud

✧ as for your way of writing... he can't help but smile gently every time he sees your hand moving fastly around paper when you're excited to tell him something

✧ he never dated to comment it, not wanting to accidentally push you away... but he most definitely noticed it and actually found that adorable about you~

✧ you're probably also the reason why he now carries small notebook and pen with you. Both, in case if you forgot yours, and if you two were to fill your notebook too quickly accidentally... And just because he feels calmer when he has it~

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @miya-akane @stellas-starry-stories13 - come get your shy diver~

[tozettastone]

Hm, let me reword; are there characters from the series you love to write but have a comparatively different level of interest in how they're actually portrayed in the source material? I.e. the akatuski who were both introduced and killed early tend to be more of an echo of a character than something that reads as a person

Oh yeah, I see! Thank you for rephrasing this. Okay.

Well, characters like Kakuzu and Hidan (and actually a lot of the cast) are very flat¹ characters in canon. They are also very often flat characters in fanfiction, even when they are major characters — Kakuzu is the money guy, Hidan is the religion weirdo (often referred to as "the miser" and "the zealot," haha) and rarely is this expanded upon.

I write a bit about characters who are like this, and one of the things I like about it is the process of extrapolating a rounder character from the few characteristics of a one-dimensional villain, without just losing all of their villainy. They should still be bad guys. I like to write bad guys.

But, it's also hard for a character to be only a terrible horrible villain when you think a bit more about what they're like in their interpersonal relationships, what they care about, what their preferences are, and just... in regular situations. That's why my Kakuzu and Hidan tags on this blog (...and my kakuhida and hidakaku tags, too, which are interchangeable but somehow never consistent) are full of random comments about this kind of characterisation exercise.

I usually do this extrapolation by looking at characters' attitudes and behaviours in canon, inferring their motives, and then thinking about how those motives might be expanded on so they can be expressed in the broader setting! I have mixed success — sometimes people don't like my characterisation and, much more importantly, sometimes I look back on my characterisation and don't like it either (as one of my recent Deidara posts attests 💀).

In that vein, sometimes I do make villain characters like these seem a lot nicer than they are in canon, just by virtue of writing scenes where they, like, have to have a normal conversation...? But if you're trying to take a flat canon character and reverse engineer it into a rounder one, you have to kinda accept that they will be less, like, unalloyed one-note violence and evil, I guess. Like, at some point they are just going to have to eat lunch without having a little massacre first.

So... That's the comments I have about that process.

I think there are a lot of characters like this in Naruto because a lot of the broad cast can have pretty flat characters. I feel this way about everyone from Orochimaru to Tobirama to Hidan, hahaha. So I wouldn't necessarily single anyone out. I guess the least flat characters I write about would include characters like Sakura, who exhibit a more complex mix of personality traits, motives, desires, preferences, feelings, etc., in canon.

---

One footnote:

1. A quick comment on flatness vs roundness, for anyone who hasn't heard those terms used like this before. Characters, settings, "plot" events, and so on, are all elements of a story. A character is the element that delivers the impression of a "person" to the reader/viewer. They are usually successful to a greater or lesser degree.

One way of thinking about characters is that they can fall on a spectrum between "flat" and "round." When one calls a character "flat," it means that they don't have the depth of personality that makes them very good at being a "person." They are usually one-note and simple. "Round," characters, by contrast, are usually a bit deeper. They usually have complex motives and desires and give a more complete impression of personhood to the audience.

This doesn't mean flat characters are bad characters, it just means that they serve a purpose that doesn't require lingering over the complex mix of characteristics that depicting personhood might otherwise require.

[stabbynunchuckss]

PET-TY THEFT CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER

- Suspended by the wrists (365 challenge)

- Tied to a pole in the sun (365 challenge)

- Soft weighted blanket (365 challenge)

- Muffled screams (365 challenge)

- Burned (365 challenge)

- Death of a loved one (365 challenge)

- Forced to kneel (365 challenge)

- Waterboarding (365 challenge)

- Pet-ty Theft part one (main storyline)

- Waking up disoriented (365 challenge)

- New, clean clothes (365 challenge)

- Sloppy bandages (365 challenge)

- Sloppy bandages continuation (365 challenge continuation, ask)

- Touch starved (365 challenge)

- Trembling with fear (365 challenge)

- Home-cooked meal (365 challenge)

- Painful wound care (365 challenge)

- Trying to hold back tears (365 challenge)

- Blood-covered hands (365 challenge)

- Repeatedly passing out (365 challenge)

- Gentle wound care (365 challenge)

- Severe fever (365 challenge)

- Taking bullets in their place (365 challenge)

- Waking up from nightmares (365 challenge)

- "Take my coat" (365 challenge)

- Leaving the lights on (365 challenge)

- Shackled to a radiator (365 challenge)

- "You're safe now" (365 challenge)

- Cudding (365 challenge)

- Warm bubble bath (365 challenge)

- "Take me instead" (365 challenge)

- "Take me instead" continuation (365 challenge continuation)

- Back from the dead (365 challenge)

- Hot bowl of soup (365 challenge)

[bxriles]

I gotta be honest, the ending of JJK isn’t doing it for me. It feels underwhelming. And before anyone freaks tf out and tells me that I “can’t read” or that I “didn’t understand the point of JJK” I can promise you that I did. I understand and I can read between the lines and make inferences. I can also promise you that I know just because the ending isn’t my cup of tea, does not mean that the ending is objectively bad. I get all of that.

And yet, I still think the execution was fumbled and I think that’s a bummer. In a desperate need to be *different* from the rest of Shonen manga, I think the last 10-15ish chapters have felt incredibly similar to the rest of the genre. At least, in my opinion they have.

Argue with the wall if this post pissed you off. I’m allowed to post my opinion on my blog.

[icewindandboringhorror]

boy in silly sitting positions compilation

[windydrawallday]

Long-PSA-short of sorts that's more a vent: I was always aware my behavior and way of expressing myself online can surprise many people, especially if they are not used to someone who uses the writing medium as a playful form to tell emotions in a very descriptive way as I do. I'm quite affectionate with words, yes. And I always beg people I hang with personally to let me know if some of that bothers them, curtly of course. So far there have been few instances of individuals confusing those signals with ulterior means, things I assure you there's nothing more than me being friendly and supportive.

Imagine idk an excited dog seeing its owner haha

Until the past week, I found myself being tackled by something that made me almost knock everything aside because it made me realize that probably I'm a walking trigger/squick inducer with even the way I wield words like "love" and "friendship".

Almost...

I'm pretty tolerant of whatever way people conduct themselves in this life, the only moment I flinch is when an individual assumes from my default behavior and presentation that I want to impose my way of life... And nopes.

This is simply how and who I am. Nothing more, nothing less. I don't search for conflict but for understanding. My language for expressing marvel and reflections is like this, never to make the other feel awkward or attacked.

So, it upset me knowing that by wielding this forever welcoming and lovable disposition, I can be something to fear and even despite... to some people.

But, you know? That means that my "love" and "friendship" lifestyle are not made for you, no reason to come back to me and point at it. Just keep walking if you have only rage and rejection to give as a reply to my point of view. Because by wielding rage and rejection, what you only do is burn bridges. To create conflict and assume imaginary antagonistic scenarios where there's nothing of that at all.

You can't create the world you wish to live in by burning bridges.

It took me a lot too to forge who I am right now. I even keep learning and chiseling through traumas and mistakes—kindness and patience taught me more than rage and rejection. And "love" and "friendship" are the bricks I chose to build those bridges. I know everyone else uses different concepts but in the end, we all build bridges. By creating bridges and inviting others to do the same, I expand not only my world, but the other's too!

Isn't that better than demanding to be this or that through a black/white flag of rage and rejection? I think so. And I understand perfectly we sometimes need to be blunt when marking our boundaries. Still, never justifies treating the other bad.

And if some of you find "fake" or distasteful the way I wear this flag of "love" and "friendship" I'm sorry: this place will never be safe for you then. The exit door is always open. Go ahead.

I hope you find your place and flags out there too, but don't forget that to do that you need to build bridges. If you don't want to call it "friendship" call it "glue" or whatever makes you comfortable, but don't kick people like me who fought with claws and teeth to reclaim those words and feelings.

Fight your fight by being a good example, not a bad experience that makes someone never want to deal with something like this again in their life.

"Any color you like, (in the end) they're all blue."

[seventh-district]

not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go

(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)

[smilestrawbunny]

Hey Bunny I thought I'll ask just to get an answer. For the game just you'll be running, are we good to use your characters in any games we make or no? I just wanted to ask because I wanted to know where you stand on that front.

I guess with the nature of the jam being “be self indulgent and do what’s fun as a creator” I’d allow it, but as a personal thing I probably would not interact with it. I don’t want people to think any sort of fan creation would be canon or even semi-canon if I interact with it, haha! So yes, take this as permission, just know that I will likely not comment on any works involving my characters like that, nor would I want to be involved in any of the creative process of said project. I’d also appreciate it being made clear in the game that my characters do not belong to you and it is a fan work, if that’s a route you choose to go down. I think that’s all my thoughts on the matter? I certainly hope so!!

[storytellering]

Love your art and I'm generally curious as to what the appeal of Dante/Vergil is to you? Do you have any hc that you're drawing from or is it just personal preference? I struggle to imagine the right conditions for them to be involved in that way and would like to know what inspires you.

I will premise this by saying, that I’m actually not a MASSIVE fan of just DV for its own sake, if Nero isn’t also included (or like, with the assumption he will, 100%, be included once he’s in the picture). To me it’s kind of a baseline pairing?

As in, I don’t even have to think about it. Of course they’re in love, of course they’re together, of course they’re fucking. It’s almost an afterthought to me, the way the married parent couple of the protagonist in a story inherently are. It doesn’t necessarily interest me by itself, that fact, it’s just a certainty, it just is. I guess, for me, the interest in DV specifically comes more out of what other people make of it, because for me I’m almost always approaching first from the perspective of Nero being there also, haha.

There’s also the fact that I have a lot of hc about just like, the way demons function as a species, I guess. I took a lot of things dmc canon gave me and went like, “alright, time to project this into the most self indulgent, non-human society but humanoid looking species I can think up in my brainhead”. To me a lot of the appeal comes from it being not necessarily a predestined thing as much as like, a biological inevitability - (going to speak in definitives about my own hc from here on, so not making any statement about canon dmc lol) demons mate with their kin, and with whoever deems worthy - and twins from the same litter would inevitably end up being the other’s first partner, their first choice, their other half. In a sense, to me, they’re soulmates - though honestly I prefer to think of it more as two halves of the same soul, following the implications in 3 and the 3 manga that them being twins comes from the spawn of Sparda being too powerful to just be born in one body. That might sound like I’m just saying they’re soulmates in a different way, but not really - to me, if I had to go the soulmate route, Nero would be both of their soulmate - because the two of them make one single soul, and the match to that would be Nero’s.

I kind of just go off of the assumption that they are in love and have been since they were in the womb, you know?

That colors the way I see their every interaction. To me, in their fighting, their squabbles and their feuds, there’s always love at the source. Familial, yes, but romantic and sexual as well - and to me, when I think about them, it’s all one and the same. To love each other like family is to be intwined, is to be mated, is to be a pack and is to be one.

That’s the more deep thoughts I have about it, I have more shallow/surface thoughts (and specifically ship dynamic thoughts about like, what appeals to me about them sexually lol) but if I had to quickly sum it up that’s what I would say, I think. 

[thehightiefling]

personal stuff under the cut, please do not feel obligated to read or respond. i just need to put this somewhere, i normally don't like putting stuff online

but i just. needed a space, i guess

being neurodivergent it's just. hard. fitting in somewhere, belonging somewhere.

on top of that there's the PTSD angle and I just. idk. i feel. not even human. don't get me wrong, being medicated for it finally has helped a lot.

but it's still so painfully obvious i'm different and just. can't function the same way as others. i don't know how to be a human correctly. or how to have friendships.

and it's so frustrating because i don't know what is wrong with me, what i'm doing wrong. i mean like i know i get attached, and clingy. but i try to be hyperaware of that and pretty much beg people to please set boundaries with me. idk if that's more to the mental issues or the trauma, either way i want so badly for people to like me. i'll take even the slightest crumb, because i just so badly want friendship. you don't even have to like me/care about me the same way i do you.

like i have spent so much of my life alone and in bad places. life is hard, you never know what people are going through. so i always try to be honest and sincere with people. like if i enjoy something someone does/make, or something as small as i like their hair/outfit, i'll tell them that. the few friendships i have had i love them with so much intensity and i want those people to know how much they mean to me, because it is so special to me, even if the the other party doesn't feel the same. it is all i have. and i am so grateful.

i've had my excitement over mundane things or things my friends think/say/do pointed out to me before and i worry it's more annoying than endearing.

i know there's a saying that some people are in your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime or whatever. and i'm in my late twenties; myself and those i know are married and have kids, careers, homes, etc., i do know that life happens and while you may care a lot for someone, you just can't prioritize them in your life. totally get that and that's okay.

i'm just. mourning. because i feel like i'm only always in someone's life for a brief time, and then i outlive my uselessness. and i just disappear from their lives quietly, or something drastic happens.

i just. see these intimate, close friendships, and i just don't know why i'm not capable of doing that. i see people who have been friends since they were children, who see each other regularly, who help each other with their children or are there for major life events, good or bad. like i read one post about how these two women had been friends since they were kids, and the one basically became like an aunt to the other's children. they were literally viewed as family. they'd buy each other flowers, babysit, curl up and platonically cuddle together, spend holidays together. i just wish i could develop bonds like that.

i just almost wish i could give friends a 'feedback survey', like what they don't like about me, what i'm doing wrong. i know it's adult life. and i do have dear friends who are genuinely my family, unfortunately health and distance keep us physically apart. i just worry that eventually they'll be gone too, you know?

i feel like egotistical or attention seeking posting this. that's not my intent. i just wanted to get my thoughts out there. and idk, maybe someone will read this and understand the feeling. the human experience is really isolating

[wolverinedoctorwho]

How many things am I gonna try thinking "oh this will finally reveal to me whether I'm trans" before one of them actually *works*. I'm tired of this grandpa.

[six-of-ravens]

not to sound like I'm going totally woo, because I promise I'm not, but I've been realizing lately that I need to do more for like, mental health ~self care~ lol. shockingly staring at the TV/computer all the time, sometimes reading, and listening to endless podcasts is not cutting it lmaoooo

anyway my (completely unprofessional) idea right now is to try and create some rituals again to help like, organize my thoughts and separate home-time from work-time and all that. all this to say I've started drawing one tarot card per day again form my Raven Cycle deck just for funsies/to get inspiration.

last night's card basically said "now's a great time to go balls to the wall on whatever creative endeavor you've been holding off on!" but I don't have a specific one I've been thinking of, so I'm thinking I'm just gonna try and write for half an hour each night instead. literally anything - fiction, diary, handwritten, computer....just half an hour of word-ing to try and get in a groove.

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

reading dungeon meshi

[mymarifae]

hey mari! i hope you are doing well ❤️ out of curiosity, since i know a lot of proseka fanartists are doing crossovers right now, have you watched alien stage?

hello !! ok for starters i'm not mad or anything in fact i think it's cute but my name isn't mari GKLDSNFBNSKLVNDF it's millie :]

alien stage is something i can't actively look into unfortunately. i'm not 100% sure what it is - hyper-empathy, i suppose? - but yeah it's just one of those things that kinda causes me nothing but bad distress. i got to the point of being able to read about the characters and overall story so far, and the art is nice!

[caracello]

can i just say i think it's kind of crazy that 'you should care about the characters in the media you like' has become, like, a polarized statement.