#4. you’re an artist and do bad in school

[spark1edog]

i think part of my dysphoria is my anxiety. like not in the sense that anxiety makes me more aware of my dysphoria but like. the flavor of anxiety i express in public does not read as Man Anxiety. i don’t know if there is a Man Anxiety stereotype in my mind. i guess the Man Anxiety stereotype in my mind is that Men Don’t Show Anxiety They Hide Everything And Act Normal Or Angry. but even still. being afraid of looking people in the eye and being afraid to go near other people lest they be uncomfortable doesn’t really read as Manxiety.

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt. 5

prev. part. first part.

TW: Gun, violence, mentioned rape, gaslighting, medic is shit

It was your last day on sick leave, so you spent it grading papers, cuddling with Winston, and getting distracted by Kyle's messages and his slutty pictures. You were so thankful for Kyle; he never pressed you for what happened with Johnny, just distracted you.

After you send a picture of Winston you heard the bell ringing and rolled your eyes. You knew Kyle never listened when you said not to come over, even though you really needed that time alone right now. Johnny is an artist, even though he didn't admit it, and so was being in a relationship with him. It was like being in a colorful picture, so vibrant. But since you left him, it felt like someone drained out the color; the painting is black and white, no longer golden.

You went to the door, opened it, and to your surprise, it wasn’t Kyle behind the door. She was there, her eyes puffy and red. 

"What do you want?" If she was there to humiliate you, you’re going to throw up. You shortly texted Ky that she was there.

"I wanted to talk to you, I need your help," she sobbed.

Simon always called you one of the nicest people on earth, but right now, it was enough of being nice. "Well, you can ask Johnny for help." You tried to shut your door, but her foot was already between the frame.

"He is the problem."

"What, did he leave you?" you snorted out.

"He threatened to kill me because of the baby." You clearly misheard her. This can't be true, as if you can do anything against Johnny, and as if Johnny would do something against his own teammate.

"Baby?"

"Yes, I'm pregnant, three months." She rubs her nonexistent belly in front of you. Three months? Johnny cheated on you for three months? And a baby? No, this can't be true. Johnny loves babies; he’d never kill a pregnant woman, none of them.

"And he is threatening you?" You asked while slowly trying to pull out your phone again. You knew Si would be here in 4 minutes if you called him.

"Yes, he wants to tell everyone that I raped him, just so I get an abortion." With that, you burst out laughing. This was the worst joke you ever heard. When she wanted you to pull you away from him for real.

"Do you really think I'm that stupid to believe this shit now leave my apartment before I call the police." You already pulled out your phone to dial the number of the police, who are you kidding, dial the number of Simon. Simon and John always explained if something happens to you, call them instead of the police, they solve your problem faster, and that was a gigantic slag-formed problem.

"Bad mistake," she points out a gun to you, calculating. You trained for this situation endless times in school, but it was still different when someone held a gun against you. Would it work to tell her that there are people that love her? Or maybe you should argue with logic.

"When you kill me, they won't forgive you, it's not worth it," you said trying to sound as calm as possible.

"They won't find out," she laughed. God, that woman was batshit crazy.

"Here are cameras," they weren’t recording, but maybe she was stupid enough to believe you.

"They will understand," she said. Maybe she was stupid enough but also crazy enough to not care. There is only the last logical thing you could say to her.

"Then kill me."

"What?" She was surprised at your bluntness, but you knew she couldn’t really kill you, and if Kyle looked at his phone, he would have already been on his way, so you need to get through this for 10 minutes, 10 minutes, and you are safe.

"If you kill me, Johnny will find you, Kyle will break you, Simon will torture you, and John will finish your miserable life, my death isn’t worth this." You slowly walked backward towards the counter, there must be a gun. John put it in there when you first got together. You didn't quite know how to use it, but better than nothing.

"You're right," finally.

"So why don’t we put the gun down and just, you know, talk about it like adults," you suggested, still moving tiny steps backward.

"Stop moving, or I'll kill you," the same words over and over again. She sounded like a broken record recorder. You stopped moving, but this wasn’t enough for her.

"Maybe I should kill your rat, so you listen." Rat? Her gun pointed toward Winston. Fuck, she should better kill you than your baby. You lost complete hope in turning her; she is crazy.

"He is Kyle's dog, not mine. If you kill him, he will be sad." The shake in your voice was evident; tears started to storm out of your eyes; you didn't know what to do anymore.

"Three of four are enough, anyways." Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I can call them; I'll break up with them, just let Winston be safe, okay?"

"Really, you give up your boyfriends for that rat?" She gestured disgusted at your precious baby.

"Yes."

"Okay, call them," you walked to the counter, dialing Simon's number, close enough to the gun. You really hoped they don’t show a sign that they know; they are SAS; they need to understand, right?

"Hello," good, Simon's voice.

"Are the others with you?" You asked, trying not to tremble; she couldn’t find out what you planned.

"Yes, I put them on speaker, luv."

"I'm breaking up with you, with all of you for final this time. John, you're always putting me in danger, Johnny, you're always with her instead of my home, always on deployment with Simon, and you’re carrying all these scary guns with you that make me afraid, and I hate your stupid dog, Kyle." She looked proud and relieved at you, too stupid to realize. But they were smart, right?

"Okay, just give me back my keys to the office, they’re in the cupboard in the kitchen. I don’t want to see you anytime soon, I will pick it up at three tomorrow, bye." She gained heavily, and all you could feel was relief; you looked at the clock; it was 2:57, three minutes, and the gun. God, you loved your smart boys.

"Will you let me go now?" you asked, and she shook her head.

"Just need to make sure that you never go to my boys again, you can understand, right?"

"I'll move abroad if you want, the US, Germany, Italy, call it and I'll be gone." Before she could reply, she heard a loud bang outside, and that was your chance to grab the gun as she turned around, loaded fucking genius John, but not in safety, idiot. And then you shot, closing your eyes. You never did this before; the closest you came was a water gun at the beach; you didn't hit anything major, only her shoulder, but it was enough for her to lose her stance and fall. Seconds after, the boys went in Simon pulled her to the ground like a bulldozer with John. While Kyle and Johnny ran to you.

"Are you okay?" Both men asked, checking you for any injury.

"I don't feel okay."

"We know, love." You wrapped your arms around Johnny and began to sob. You needed him; you missed him and you were so scared. You knew for a fact he didn't cheat on you after that stunt that woman pulled today.

"We'll take care of her; we will be back soon, luv," Simon said with a devious grin while putting his boot on her to press down on her bullet wound.

John and Ghost left with her, and you knew for a fact your shot would be the nicest thing she witnessed in the next few days.

"I shot someone."

"Proud of you, hen."

"Never shoot again, please, babe; you're terrible at it," Kyle joked, but you still felt shitty. He knelt down, hugging Winston tight. "Oh, you've been such a brave and good boy protecting your mama. Let me take you to the park, pup," he said while Winston barked happily. "You two need to talk this out."

"Only we two now, Johnny."

"Aye, only we two."

"Where do we start?"

--------------------

Taglist: @cod-z , @kaoyamamegami, @postmortem-angel, @jackrabbitem , @sseleniaa , @thigh-o-saur , @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121 @thychuvaluswife

A/N : so I added the picture of Eliot to make up for the Angst I write 😭

For any who has a light belly (do you say that in english or only in German lol?) the next chapter will be half torture of her and the other half Johnny and Reader <3

[lolashifts]

SHIFTING ISN'T SPECIAL

please bare with me on this one bc it might be a bit longer than i expected (and excuse my very bad title-naming skills 😭)

in this essay i will try to put down in words exactly what i realised today as i started my first day into reprogramming my mind, something that i’m doing while following reya singh’s method. what is that?

shifting IS easy.

yes, i know everybody says it, but it’s the truth and i’m not telling you this as someone who shifts regularly to her drs, because i don’t (yet!). however, it did just click in my mind why people always say it and mean it. and i feel incredibly stupid for not understanding it waaay earlier than just now, 4 years into my journey.

now, let me walk you through the thought process behind this.

in reya’s 4-day method for reprogramming your mind, she instructs to write a list of your beliefs and non-beliefs. this may sound really silly and kinda useless at first - believe me, i woke up this morning thinking “what exactly am i supposed to do after that?” - but there’s a valid reason for it, which is to help you delete from your mind the idea that shifting is like a superpower that’s simply not for everyone and very hard to reach, when that is not the case at all!

in my own beliefs list, i’ve written “i am capable of shifting” right in between “i can speak english”, “i can write and read” and “i can eat --” (and some other things like “i can’t eat gluten”, bc i have celiac disease, “i can dream”, we all do! and “i can lucid dream”). you see where i’m going with this? i’m putting shifting in the same category as things we all normally do, that we sometimes don’t even think about doing since they’re such a natural activity. to this list i could add “i can breathe”, because we do it automatically, without even realising unless we focus on it. the same can be said for drinking or eating really, if you’re angry or thirsty you just go and get whatever pleases you the most and not dwell on it.

in the non-beliefs list, i’ve written obvious things like santa and the easter bunny (which isn’t common here in italy tbf but yeah) and sentences like “i can’t swim”, “i can’t draw”, “i can’t eat strawberries” and in between them also “i don’t fear shifting”. here, the point is that all these listed beliefs are stuff i know for a fact to be false: i can swim perfectly, i am an artist and i love strawberries + i’m not allergic to them or anything. by placing shifting there, i'm stating that just like i KNOW i can swim or whatever, i also KNOW i'm not scared of shifting.

you’re literally gaslighting your subconscious mind into believing what is real for a fact and what isn’t.

after writing down this list, which can be done on paper just like on your preferred device, i reread everything twice explaining to myself why i chose these things and why they are beliefs or not. that’s how i realised that shifting is easy. when people talk about it “clicking” they weren’t lying!

shifting isn’t special, this is what the list thing tries to prove you. it’s not special because, just like breathing and eating and reading, we do it subconsciously everyday. take your own first language: you speak it naturally without having to doubt it, and if you know a second language well enough like i know english for instance (my mother-tongue is italian) then you can even start talking to yourself and think in that language without having to search up translations.

what’s the difference with shifting then?

the difference is that shifting hasn’t been taught to us in the same way as a language has been, all throughout school. the same thing goes for reading and writing: we read and write naturally because we’ve been taught how to when we were young and it’s now engraved in our brains, just like with learning our first language, which is something we normally do thanks to our teachers, our families and the people around us, of course. this doesn’t happen with shifting in most cases, as we all know, which means it’s normal for it to take a bit to grasp as a concept and existing thing/activity. it’s natural, most of us human beings just don’t know about it, nor that we’re capable of doing it.

this is why i said it’s not special: just like breathing, everybody can do it (and so do you)!

going back to the non-beliefs list; i should also add that as a society we usually are taught what to believe in from a young age, and specifically what is believed to be a fantasy, a dream, or something real. as grown-ups, though, we have the right to believe in whatever we want, like shifting. as a realistic person, i understand that some people may have a hard time believing something as great as shifting could be true, because it genuinely doesn’t sound like it! so yes, this is also a factor that can and does make it harder for someone to trust their guts and expect to wake up somewhere that’s only fictional here.

shifting clicks for everybody at different times, but i hope this post will help some of you here understand it better and know that what more experienced shifters say always has a meaning, you just need the time to properly reflect on it to get it!

when it clicked for me a few hours ago i felt a huge rush of adrenaline and happiness bc yes, i can actually shift. i’m just overcomplicating it for no reason and so many of you are doing the same!

it’s okay though, we’ll all get there <3

(psa: if you saw any grammar mistakes or anything NO YOU DIDN'T and also please don't mind if this rant doesn't sound logical, i tried my best to explain myself like i wanted to 🥲)

[celestialalpacaron]

Ayo, someone by the name of Curly-B-Blog is redlining art of yours from 2020 (while pretending that it's actually Sai Scribble's work), and kind of being a dick about it. just thought you should know.

You know, originally I was just gonna brush it off, but then I went back to look at my old SU art from 2020 and did so much self reflection from then till now.

I think this was around the time I was just learning how to do perspective and tried to use the perspective tool on Procreate for the first time? :0 and I remember telling Sai “Sai I have this STUPID idea, I CANT believe it this stupid joke it’s so DUMBBBB, it’s living rent free in my BRAIN I SWEAR THIS IS GONNA BE SO STUPID DCIUWHEFIUWHIRFUIW4F” and being super excited to show her the finished product. People still think Sai created the Cursed Skin Gloves comic and I think it’s hilarious wjhwnuhwijwuiw

The comic was received very well and it made LOTS of people laugh and I’m still proud of this comic to this very day! :D and tbh if it wasn’t for my obsession for Sai’s Switcheroo AU I never would have found my passion in comic work! (love you you stinky hoe @saiscribbles 🩷)

HOWEVER…. I definitely still had lots to learn! I wasn’t very good at perspective at the time I’ll admit, but I was definitely having lots of fun learning :3

And throughout the past 4 years, ALOT has happened.

I graduated from college with TWO fancy pieces of expensive papers in Visual Development in Animation and Illustration learning from Will Kim and Jeff Soto, and as a I was working with the funny voice man Cougar MacDowall as a comic/story artist and reached in total around 7 million views for my fan series FNAF Security Malware Breached (it was even #21 on the trending list around the time of my birthday 🩷 what a lovely gift), had an insane opportunity to work with Mike Geno and with the voice cast from The Amazing Digital Circus for a fan song as a background and character asset artist, Vivienne Medrano liking and sharing my silly Overlord Husk AU comics, currently on my route to getting my certificate from Aaron Blaise’s Character design program and graduating from Marc Brunet Art School, and now I am completing my first year as professional colorist and art assistant for my storyboard and comic mentor Michelle Lam, aka Mewtripled! (Also I’ll be heading out to Lightbox Expo 2024 on October 26 with Michelle and the team so if y’all ever wanna meetup hahahajaj wink wink wink wink wink)

So you can say I learned ALOT and I enjoyed every minute of what I do :D I try to be humble about my accomplishments because blah blah being humble good yes yes but this time I wanna be selfish and say HELL YEAH I DID ALL THIS!!! AND IM SO EXTREMELY PROUD OF MYSELF FIUGEIURGERGGRS

Now here’s my most recent comic page that I posted like 2 days ago without the text.

That’s pretty freakin wild to me, I can’t believe I used to draw Steven Universe art like that back in 2020 LOL LIKE GUYS I DREW THIS!! WITH!!! MY HANDS!!! IS THAT NOT INSANE!!!???

Anyways moral of the story:

Learn from everyone and everything! Yes, even then mean ones too! If you can learn to work with anyone, I promise you’ll get to where you want to be faster. People can be a little mean on the internet, but that shouldn’t stop you from being where you want to be in the future. I’m so EXTREMELY grateful for all the opportunities and to all the kind professionals who were willing to give me a chance. Seriously, I’m so graciously thankful for everything, and I hope everyone here will support me and my silly little comics I will do now and in the future!

And one more thing:

Don’t be a jerk. Be to be nice to everyone :D nothing good comes out when you’re bad to everyone.

[gavitaffy]

Goals of the heart

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

A/N: Heyy guys! I'm "back" after what..?😀 Since July and it's December rn, but I just started my last year at school, and I've decided to become a "IT student" so I gotta work my ass off rn. I've had 6 midterms in the course of 2 weeks... BUT I will start a little series called "Goals of the Heart", I'll try to post everyday of this series.

Paring: Pablo Gavi & f!reader

Summary: Y/N, an artist sketching in Barcelona, has her painting ruined when a stray football crashes into her easel. The culprit, a young man named Pablo Gavi, apologizes profusely and buys her new art supplies to make up for it. She later learns he's a famous footballer for Barcelona but brushes it off, treating him as just "the guy who ruined her painting." Gavi, intrigued by her indifference, offers to take her for coffee, hinting at the start of a surprising connection between them.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,1k (i'm proud🥲)

Chapter 1: A Chance Encounter

The warm afternoon sun filtered through the narrow streets of Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter, casting golden light over centuries-old buildings. Y/N sat on a small stool in a quiet corner, her easel propped up in front of her. She had spent the past hour working on a sketch, capturing the lively essence of a street performer strumming a guitar. Around her, tourists and locals bustled, but in her mind, it was just her and the soft scratching sound of her charcoal pencil on paper.

She loved this part of the city. The worn cobblestones, the scent of coffee and churros from nearby cafés, and the chatter of different languages all created an energy she thrived on. Her hand paused briefly as she admired her progress. Just a few more details, and—

Thud!

Before Y/N could react, a football crashed into her easel, knocking it sideways. She yelped as her canvas toppled, splattering paint in every direction. The streaks of color ruined her meticulous sketch, turning it into an unrecognizable mess.

“¡Lo siento mucho!” a voice called out.

She spun around, her frustration bubbling over. A young man was jogging toward her, his dark brown eyes wide with concern. He was about her age, with slightly messy dark blond hair and a lean, athletic build. Sweat clung to his brow, and he wore a plain white T-shirt and shorts, looking like someone who had just finished a workout.

“Are you serious right now?” Y/N exclaimed, gesturing to the mess of paint and ruined paper. “Do you know how long I’ve been working on this?”

He stopped in front of her, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice warm and apologetic. “It was a bad pass. I didn’t mean to ruin your work.”

Y/N folded her arms, glaring at him. “Well, you did. This is completely ruined!”

He straightened, his expression softening into one of guilt. “I’ll fix it. I’ll buy you a new canvas and anything else you need. I promise.”

For a moment, she hesitated. He seemed sincere, but the frustration of seeing her hard work destroyed made it hard to let go. Finally, she sighed, shaking her head. “Fine. But you’re carrying my supplies back to the shop.”

His face brightened with relief, and he nodded. “Deal.”

As they walked toward the nearest art supply shop, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the way people were looking at him. A few passersby did double takes, and a group of teenagers whispered excitedly before sneaking out their phones to take pictures. She frowned, glancing sideways at him.

“Why is everyone staring at you?” she asked bluntly.

He looked slightly amused. “I don’t know. Maybe they’re just curious about the girl I ruined a painting for?”

She rolled her eyes. “Right. Sure.”

He laughed, a light, easy sound that caught her off guard. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

They reached the shop a few minutes later, and he immediately took charge, picking out the largest canvas he could find and tossing in a set of paints and brushes for good measure. Y/N tried to protest. “You don’t need to buy all of that! Just a new canvas is fine.”

He grinned. “Nope. I’m making up for the mess I caused.”

The shopkeeper, an older woman with sharp eyes, gave them both an amused look as she rang them up. “You know who he is, don’t you?” she asked Y/N in a low voice.

Y/N blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

The woman tilted her head toward him. “That’s Pablo Gavi. He plays for Barcelona.”

The name rang a faint bell. Y/N wasn’t a big football fan, but she had heard about the young prodigy making waves in the sport. Her eyes widened slightly, and she turned to look at him again. He was busy chatting with the shopkeeper, a lopsided smile on his face as he struggled to balance the supplies he’d just purchased.

When they left the shop, Y/N couldn’t resist asking. “So, you’re kind of a big deal, huh?”

He glanced at her, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The shopkeeper said you play for Barcelona. I’ve heard your name before,” she said, her tone neutral.

He shrugged, a sheepish look crossing his face. “Yeah, I play for the team. But I didn’t think you’d recognize me. You don’t seem like the football type.”

“I’m not,” she admitted with a small laugh. “But now I get why people were staring at you.”

“Great. Now you’re going to treat me differently,” he said, half-joking.

“Relax,” Y/N replied with a smirk. “You’re just the guy who ruined my painting.”

He burst out laughing, the sound echoing down the narrow street. “Fair enough. What’s your name, by the way? I don’t think I got it earlier.”

“Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, I owe you more than just a canvas,” he said, his voice softening. “Let me make it up to you properly. Can I take you for coffee or something?”

Y/N hesitated, caught off guard by the earnest look in his eyes. Despite herself, she smiled. “We’ll see. Maybe I’ll run into you again.”

“Maybe,” he echoed, his grin widening.

As she watched him jog off down the street, Y/N felt a strange flutter in her chest. What started as a ruined painting might just turn into something unexpected. Little did she know, this was the beginning of a story that would change both of their lives.

[psicheanima]

How’d you learn how to draw? When’d you start drawing? What got you into art? Any advices for those wanting to be artists?

1. I learned to draw by copying the type of art I liked. I never took classes except mandatory art classes in elementary-middle school

2. Ive been drawing since I was a kid. When I was in kindergarten, I started using composition notebooks to draw the comic adventures of my sona— inspired by whatever movie or show I liked. This continued until 5th grade. In total, it had about 30 volumes. But I drew xmen fan comics at the same time, too :)

3. I just have a lot of ideas that I wanted to put into a visual medium

4. Nothing great, sorry! I barely consider myself one. I guess I’ll be a bad advice giver and say drawing the same thing over and over is fun. Because I’m doing that, you do end up having to draw a lot of things you’re bad at, to create consistently fun, new environments for the thing you like

[jungkookslipring]

I Will Never Make You Lonely: Intro

Summary: When your life is falling apart, your 8 best friends are there to lift you up

TW: mentions of de&th, su!c!de, su!c!de tendencies, su!c!dal ideologies, depress!on, anxiety, crying. If this is in any way triggering I’d steer towards more of my happier works. 

If you or someone you love has thought of or acted on suicide, there is help and there is hope 

Call or text 988

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, non idol AU

PSA: this is no way represents the artists. While their birth names are used in this story, this is in no way a reflection of the artist or artists in real life.

AU: I’m actually so scared to post this cause while I’ve posted heavy topics about SH before, it’s still a long fic with multiple chapters and not just a one shot.

Intro:  

It was a quiet day in the apartments. Why? Because the guys were not home. They all had classes while you were at a cafe drinking boba and reading case studies. You were in your senior year of college and you “lived” in an apartment with your best friends. Even though you had your place, you hardly ever used it, and the only time you would ever stay the night in your apartment was when you had an exam the next morning or a long study night ahead, cause you knew damn well you weren't going to get any peace in their apartment. Even then, on occasion, you’d drive to their apartment at 2 sometimes 3 am, and stay in the guest bedroom. You have been their honorary 9th roommate since 2019. The guys have been your family ever since you moved to Seoul 4 years ago, and because of them, you decided you wanted to get dual citizenship and build a life in Seoul if you were approved for your internship.

When you decided you had enough screen time for one day, you packed up your backpack and headed back to the apartments. When you walked in, Minho, Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin were all in the living room; it was chaotic. Jeongin was on the ground laughing as Minho straddled him, attacking his neck, while Felix and Hyunjin were on the couch smiling at the two. This was nothing new, tickle attacks were far too common for your friend group. When you came around the corner they all looked up at you with a smile. 

“Hi y/n!” Minho greeted without stopping his attack on Jeongin.

“Save mehehehehe!” Jeongin screeched as Minho’s hands dove into the poor boy's tummy. You grinned as you dropped your bag and ran over to the pair on the floor. You ran up behind Minho and started squeezing his sides. Minho yelped and launched himself off of Jeongin, falling onto his back. He tried pushing your hands away, but your hands were too quick, and he was growing weaker by the second.

“You traihaihaitor” he laughed out as you continued your attack. 

“Alexa, play traitor by Olivia Rodrigo,” Felix said sarcastically, laughing his ass off when the speaker started blasting said song.

“Be nice to our kids!” You jokingly scold the second you start digging in his ribs. His sweet laugh filled the room.

“HYUNJIN-AHAHAHA LIXIE HELP MEHEHE” Minho squealed while you effectively moved your fingers up and down his ribs.

“I’m not getting involved in that! She’ll come after me!” He chuckled with Felix snuggled into his side. 

“Then join the dark side and come hold his arms down!” You offer with a smirk. Hyunjin cringed.

“But Minho Hyung’s revenge tickles are 10x worse!” He said, shivering at the memories.

“He’ll get revenge on you regardless,” Jeongin said matter-of-factly. While everyone was having a debate on basically ‘you’re damned if you do and you're damned if you don’t’, Minho has been filling the room with his adorable laughter.

“Y/N I GIHIHIHIVE” Minho begged after you spent a good few minutes attacking his underarms.

“Fine, just don’t go after my kids!” You laughed as you got off of him. 

“How was school?” Minho asked after you helped him sit up. You leaned against the couch. 

“Not bad, I think I’ve become addicted to caffeine,” you shrugged. 

“Are you already pulling all-nighters?” Felix asked.

“Yeah, but it’s just a lot of reading, case studies specifically,” you said, grabbing a pillow and holding it in your lap. 

“Have there been any that were interesting?” Hyunjin asked.

“More like unethical, these stories are heavy,” you said, cringing at some of the stories you’ve read. 

“Do you have to write any papers on these stories?” Jeongin asked. You nodded.

“Eventually I will yeah, which will require more reading and I don't know how much longer I can keep reading these old case studies. I may need therapy,” you chuckled. 

“Well if you ever need a serotonin boost you always have us,” Felix said with a smile. You walked over and pinched his cheeks. 

“Awww thanks Lixie!” you squeal as he scrunches up his nose. Jeongin laughed.

“I’m so happy it's not me this time,” he joked. Minho smirked and grabbed a hold of Jeongin’s face.

“Oh don’t act like you don’t like it,” Minho smiled as Jeongin squawked out protests. 

“Remember what I said about going after my kids!” you joked as you walked towards him with claw-like hands. Minho was quick to stand up and try to run out but you were too quick, once again on top of him while his laughs filled the room. A few hours later the rest of the guys came home. You all had dinner, talked about your day, and had a friendly yet violent Mario Kart competition. The apartment was chaotic once again.

“No, not Rainbow Road!”

“Let me be Princess Peach for once Minho!” 

“EAT MY FUCKING DUST TOAD”

“WHO THE HELL THREW THAT RED SHELL”

“I WOKE UP IN A NEW—“

“GIVE ME A SOLID REASON WHY I SHOULDN’T KNOCK YOU OFF THIS COURSE FOR FUN”

“BOI IF YOU DON’T-“

“First place once again!”

“YOU CHEATED!”

You *gently* threw your controller and grabbed Seungmin’s shoulders, making him laugh as you shook and scolded him for getting 1st place when it was you who should’ve won even though you got last. 

“Sleep with one eye open tonight Min or so help me God!” You jokingly scolded as he giggled.

“Not my fault you suck!” he said bravely.

“Not my fault when your head goes through that wall!” You yell as you put him in a headlock, his laughter radiating through the entire apartment while everyone else around the two of you rolled on the ground laughing. Everyone shared lots of smiles that evening before you all retreated to bed. You pulled out your phone and sent a picture of the scores between you and the guys to your childhood best friend, Carter. 

Side Kick Shit

🤍Lost to Seungmin once again🤦‍♀️

🖤Miss girl you gotta get better at that🙅‍♀️

🤍I swear he’s cheating!🙋‍♀️

🖤I haven’t heard that excuse before🙄

🤍FOUL 🚩

🖤Not my fault you suck🤷‍♀️ also wrong flag 💛

🤍Our friendship is over😽

🖤Kidding Kidding I love you you know that🥰

🤍Not me questioning your love🧐

🖤What have I ever done to you😫

🤍You got an hour?💩

🖤Respectfully fuck you😀🖕

🤍When and where😏

🖤Ha GAYYYYYYYY🌈

🤍Always🏳️‍🌈

🤍You gotta come up here soon! 

🤍See in real-time how much of a menace this mf is!

🖤Lmfao one day!

🖤 well I love you so so so much but I gotta go

🤍NOOOOOOOOO you suck😩

🖤I know but I love you so much

🤍You better🥺

You turned off your phone, setting it on the side table, easily succumbing to sleep knowing the weekend was right around the corner.

——————————————————————————

Oh Lordy I hope you guys do like this story I’m ✨terrified✨ but I hope you like it! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list ❤️

taglist: @felixmainacc @felixburneracc @myforevermelody143 @dunno-wut-to-do @itzsana-kiddingmenow

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

⬷ 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞┊ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ┊ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

pairing: minho x felix (minlix)

genre: dancer!minho/artist!felix. brothers best friend troupe. college au. age gap (abt 4 years). minho pov. extremely dark themes throughout, including smut - MDNI, 18+ only.

word count: 4.4k

the playlist 🗡️

a/n: OKAY, SO- 💀 I HAVE AN EXPLANATION FOR THE DELAYED UPDATE!!!! 💀😔 My life has been so incredibly fucking busy lately... with working full time and doing summer uni courses full time and planning for lolla and like, the 5 other concerts im going to in the later half of this year... it's been a lot, fam. 😭 I've been under sm stress at work and from school that I've been getting really bad chest pains, but I'm trying to manage things so it's slowly getting better. But the burn out is real, people. That shit fucks you over sooo bad omg 😭 I just have no motivation to write anything at the end of the day or on the weekends because I'm so fucking tired of using my brain all week. Going to Lolla will be my first REAL vacation from work/uni in over 2 and a half years. That's acc insane to me lmao. ANYWAYS!!!! 🗣️💥 I've already written like, 2 more chapters for this fic when I was in a mania-induced rage a few weeks ago lol, so I just need to find the time/motivation to edit those within the next few weeks. And I already have big plans for the rest of the chapters in this so... I'm excited. Now I just gotta find the willpower to ACC write my ideas 😜

🗡️ - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

̶﹒⊹﹒sɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴀᴄǫᴜᴀɪɴᴛᴇᴅ,  ʏᴏᴜ sᴋɪᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏʀеᴘʟᴀʏ ！،، 🌌  𖥻 𓂃 ʜᴇ ɢʀɪᴘs ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴄᴋ  ᴀs ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʀеᴘᴀʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴄʀᴇᴡᴇᴅ╰╮ 🌑

 To his utter surprise, Minho decided to attend Felix’s dorm party that weekend. The final decision shocked the rest of his friends too, who had grown accustomed to his home-body spirit. Because usually, every time they asked — more like begged — him to go to parties with the three of them, he always backed out of everything. His favorite excuses were being too exhausted from dance practice or not feeling good from studying so much. 

  “I actually cannot believe you’re going to this shit,” Chris said with a laugh that night. He was sprawled across Minho’s bed, one earbud in his ear as his head bobbed up and down to a beat he was mixing on his laptop. Meanwhile, Minho was scurrying across his room, slipping on a pair of socks and making sure he looked somewhat put together. But he didn’t want to seem too desperate to fit in either, since he knew that most of the people at the party would be young freshmen and sophomores. 

  He had decided — with a little bit of Chris’ help — on a pair of black sweats, and an oversized graphic tee from one of his favorite Korean bands. It was nothing out of the ordinary for him to wear, but just ‘normal’ enough for him to fit in with the crowd that night. 

  “Honestly, I’m kinda shocked that you’re not going too,” Minho said as he hurried to slip on his Converse.

  With that, Chris looked up from his flashing computer screen with a deep frown plastered across his face. “Do you really think I want to go to a party and watch as my little brother sticks his tongue down at least ten people's throats?” 

  Minho stopped fumbling with his shoelaces and looked up at Chris with a raised eyebrow. “He’s not actually gonna do that tonight, Chris.” 

  “You obviously don’t know my brother these days… the one that’s mature— at least in his eyes, anyway,” Chris started, tapping away at his computer keyboard again and cursing under his breath for a split second. “That little boy that you grew up with is completely gone, Min.” 

  For a few beats, there was utter silence in Minho’s bedroom after Chris’ statement. Then, Minho fit his wallet into his pants pocket and unhooked his phone from his charging port. 

  “Is that why you… don’t really spend a lot of time with him ever since he got to campus?” 

  Chris threw a long roll of his eyes towards Minho, “That, and the fact that I’m a little too old and tired to be fucking around with a bunch of young kids these days.” 

  “Felix isn’t a young kid, Chris. He’s a grown adult.” 

  Sighing heavily, Chris hoisted himself up and off of Minho’s bed, patting his shoulder in a rough way as he passed Minho on the way out of the bedroom. “We’ll see if you change your opinion on that after tonight.”

  And the entire time Minho made the short trek over to the freshman’s side of campus, he couldn’t get Chris’ words out of his head. They were stuck in the depths of his brain, playing over and over again. Because there was no way that Felix would be so badly changed from the last time he had spent a night with him during their childhood. 

  Sure, Minho had noticed a slight change when they had met in the campus gardens the day before, but it wasn’t… that bad. Not like anything Chris was describing.

  Even still, Minho could feel his entire body tense up as he got closer to the freshman dormitory. He could hear his heartbeat in the corners of his ears as he knocked on Felix’s door. He could sense his palms growing cold and clammy as the loud base of music thrummed underneath his feet. 

  Almost as quickly as he had knocked, someone opened the door. He had never seen the guy before, but he had purple-dyed hair and a dazzling white smile. Reaching out to Minho’s hand, the beautiful stranger yanked him in excitedly. 

  “Holy shit- you must be the famous Minho! I’ve heard so much about you!” The guy shouted over the music, closing the door behind Minho and leading the two of them into the nearby kitchen. “I’m Jisung, by the way.” 

  Without even having time to process the chaos that was the person in front of him, Minho’s hand was grabbed by Jisung and shaken thoroughly. “Uhm- nice to meet you, Jisung…” His voice trailed off as his mind carded through the slightly slurred words that had just fallen from the purple-haired man’s lips. “What do you mean by hearing so mu—”

  “Hey, Jisung! Stop being such a fucking weirdo and let the man breathe!” Someone off to their right shouted in an exasperated tone. 

  Minho turned and noticed a dark-haired figure bent over in the shadows of the kitchen. They raised their head from the counter, rubbing their nose and sneezing violently. Slowly, Minho’s eyes registered the small bit of white substance that was left behind and laid out on the kitchen counter in a neat line. The dude was fucking snorting cocaine. Just then, Minho’s focus turned to the rest of the kitchen’s counters, which were lined with a plethora of drinks, drugs, and other shit he didn’t even have names for. A random couple was making out in the background, the girl’s ass pressing down atop the counter as the man between her legs bit violet marks into the side of her neck. 

  Turning his eyes away from the couple, he watched as the cocaine-snorter sidled up to their sides. Slinging a lazy arm around Jisung’s neck, he pulled him in for a tight hug. “You must be Minho, huh?” He asked in a long drawl, the kind you only got with copious amounts of drugs and liquor flowing through your system. 

  “Y-Yeah… Felix invited me to this last minute, but I’m starting to think maybe coming was a bad idea…” Minho said in a quiet voice that was barely decipherable over the ear-piercing rap blasting throughout the entire dorm. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable under the two strangers' gazes, he fit his hands in his pockets, eyes darting around the kitchen for the closest exit. 

  “You’re a lot cuter in person than what I always imagined,” The guy holding onto Jisung said, stumbling over a bit and making Jisung laugh heartily. The guy had soft cheekbones but razor-sharp eyes. The kind that Minho felt were piercing into him and studying his very being with each second that passed. His jet-black hair was messy atop his head and slightly curled at the ends. “I’m Seungmin, by the way. But most of these fucks around here call me Doggy.” 

  Placing a hand on Seungmin’s chest lovingly, Jisung flashed Minho a sly kind of smile. “He can get you anything you want— just say the word, pay up, and he’ll have it in your hands by the end of the week…” Jisung’s words drifted off into the chaos around them as he studied Minho. 

  Minho felt like both of the young men in front of him were sidling him up — wondering, and guessing, why someone as plain and boring as him was connected to Lee Felix in some way. Minho could feel his palms growing sweatier by the second as he gripped the suffocating fabric of his pant pockets. 

  “So— what’s your weakness?” Seungmin slurred on, eyes growing dark as his gaze traced Minho’s form up and down in the kitchen’s dim lighting. “Fet? Coke? Meth—”

  Already starting to feel sick to his stomach by the topic of conversation, Minho held his hands up in a silent plea for him to stop. “Uhm— not really into that kinda shit.” 

  “What a shame… you’d be a pretty addict, for sure.” Jisung said in a flirtatious tone, biting the corner of his lip as he studied Minho.

  Slowly, Minho could feel himself caving inward. His shoulders dropping, and heartbeat turning into a low thrum, all he wanted to do was get out of the situation he was stuck in. “How do you guys know Felix? Are you both freshman too?” 

  Jisung burst out laughing at that, reaching towards the nearby kitchen counter and pouring himself a solo cup full of vodka. “You're kidding me, right? We’ve been Felix’s homies since our high school days.” 

  “And yes, if you must know— we’re freshman’s,” Seungmin said, rolling his eyes as he grabbed the solo cup from Jisung’s hand and took a long swig of it. Much to Jisung’s displeasure. “Why? What’s it to ya?” 

  Minho shrugged nonchalantly, trying to act like the entire atmosphere around them wasn’t making him extremely uncomfortable. “I was just making friendly conversation,” and before he could let either of the guys in front of him say anything more, he decided to remove himself from the situation entirely. “Actually, I think I’m gonna go try and find Felix…” 

  As he was walking away from the kitchen, he could hear the boys snickering behind him, with Jisung shouting in slurred words, “Good luck finding him if he’s getting his dick sucked in the bathroom!” Minho could hear the two guys laughing manically in the kitchen as he made his way into the rest of the dorm. 

  Immediately upon entering the living room, he remembered just how small the freshman’s living spaces were. The entire place was jammed packed full of bodies writhing and shaking. A space in the middle of the room had been cleared for a makeshift dance floor, so couples were grinding up on each other and making out to the sultry r&b coursing throughout the entire place. Bodies filled up every seat and sofa in the vicinity. 

  The entire room was dark with the curtains closed. That added to the smoky atmosphere, as people smoked cigs, vapes, and joints everywhere that Minho looked. It was hard to see through the haziness of everything, but eventually, he spotted Felix. 

  Felix was… 

  Sitting on one of the couches, 

  Busy making out with another guy.

  And just then, Minho couldn’t even understand the exact feelings he had upon such a discovery. It was a mix of surprise, queasiness, but also… something else too, which he dared not name. 

  He shoved everything down into a firm ball in the pit of his stomach, shuffling towards a nearby table and popping himself a cold bottle of soju. Taking a long swig from the chilled rim, he gradually shuffled his way through the dance floor over to where Felix was. 

  The younger man seemed to exude a certain kind of presence… captivating at least half of the room with his aura. Felix's energy was dark and smoky and… something so mysterious and foreign to Minho, he had no idea how to navigate all of it. 

  “Felix— hi,” Minho yelled over the loud music, waving towards Felix to catch his attention. There were a few other people squished onto the sofa where he was sitting, but all of them were focused on the tv screen which was flashing with an intense game of Super Smash Bros. 

  As soon as Felix’s focus was caught, he was pulling away from the other man’s lips. In the dimness of the room, Minho distinctly caught onto the way that messy strings of saliva parted from their lips, and how Felix’s mouth was puffy and swollen from kissing all night.

  Eyes brightening and pink freckled cheeks shading just a tiny bit, Felix shot up from his spot on the couch, fumbling his way over to Minho’s side. For a split second, Minho was able to gaze at Felix’s form — at the white skort he was wearing which was so short, half of his ass was exposed, and the baby-blue crop top that rose just above his belly button. A belly ring glinted in the sultry lighting of the room, along with all of the silver earrings, rings, and necklaces that adorned Felix’s milky-white skin. 

  “M-Min, oh my god, you made it!” Felix exclaimed happily, tugging on Minho’s wrist gently and leading him over to his spot on the couch. The man that he had been making out with only seconds before shuffled to the side, allowing room for Minho to sit down. Then, he grabbed Felix’s hips and sat him down on his lap. Felix let out a tiny giggle, snuggling his ass backward and earning a grunt from the guy underneath him. “I’m so happy to see you!” 

  Minho flashed him the best smile he could muster at that moment. What with being incredibly overstimulated by everything, and the shock of meeting some of Felix’s... choice friends, and seeing his best friend’s little brother making out viscerally at a party… 

  The night definitely wasn’t turning out as he had hoped, that was for sure. 

  “I met some of your friends, they’re uhm— interesting, to say the least,” Minho laughed awkwardly, carding a few shaking fingers through his hair. “I wasn’t expecting you to be… part of such a crowd, Lix.” 

  Felix shrugged the tiniest of bits, his eyes flicking away from Minho’s and focusing on the video game some of the others were playing. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Minho. Things have changed since the last time we hung out.” There was a weight to his words, they felt heavy on Minho's shoulders and weighed on his heart. Even still, he tried to push away those feelings and just live in the moment, without any worries or inhibitions 

  “That’s for sure…” 

  But Minho wasn’t really paying attention to anything else that Felix was saying, if he was saying anything at all. Because he was too busy watching the guy underneath Felix draw circles against his bare skin. Fingers skirting across his skin, the guy softly massaged the soft skin of his thighs, forcing gooseflesh to erupt to the surface. 

  “This is Renjun, by the way,” Felix said, cutting through the silence between them and breaking the trance Minho had fallen into. “He’s a… friend, of sorts.” 

  Renjun turned his face away from Felix’s body, taking a long drawl of a joint that Minho hadn’t even noticed was positioned between his fingers. “Yeah, ‘cause friends definitely stick their dicks in each other’s assess… that's just what friends do, right?” Renjun let out a loud cackle, the kind that would probably make Minho burst out into laughter too, if they were in a different situation. 

  Felix gave the man underneath him a deep frown before his eyes focused back on Minho. “I mean… if you’re truly friends— anything could happen, right?” Just then, he started moving again, hips circling just a little bit atop Renjun’s lap. Almost instantly, the dark-haired man was groaning out loud and clutching onto Felix's hips for dear life. And the entire time, Felix kept his gaze locked with Minho's, practically staring right into his soul.

  Minho was keenly aware of the dry saliva he swallowed down, trying to ignore the way his heart lept just a little bit in his chest at the sight of Felix grinding down against Renjun’s lap. Trying to ignore the way his pants grew just a tiny bit tighter at the sight of Felix flashing Renjun a playful, dim smirk. 

  “Renjun, stop fucking moaning, you’re ruining the vibes right now!” A silver-haired guy who was sitting in front of Minho said. He was part of the group that was focused on the tv, playing Smash like they were in a professional tournament or some shit. “I’m Jeongin, by the way, Lee Felix’s bestie since the sixth grade.” The silvered fox said, momentarily looking away from his game and flashing Minho a smile. 

  At that, Renjun let out a low chortle. “Too bad you weren’t close enough to fuck him, eh?”

  Minho’s attention darted from Jeongin’s face back to Renjun, examining the way his raven locks were somewhat disheveled— like they had been gripped pretty hard recently. 

  Gripped hard by… Felix. 

  Felix threw his hands up into the air, seeming to admit defeat. “What is it with everyone around here wanting to fuck me?!” He exclaimed- although he didn’t seem that upset by the prospect in the first place. Instead, he grabbed ahold of the joint Renjun was smoking and took a long drag of it. Blowing the smoke up in the air around him, Felix’s slightly hooded gaze zeroed back onto Minho. “It’s not like I’m that attractive— I only get the young people to fuck me.” 

  Minho shifted in his spot on the couch, feeling that floaty, twisted snake thrum through his veins. He stared down at his strawberry-flavored soju bottle, pretending to be fascinated with the label. When in actuality, he was doing everything in his power to avoid Felix’s stare. 

  “I mean, who wouldn’t wanna fuck you? You’re cute— you’re hot, you’re fun, and you’re a damn good bottom, too.” Renjun said in a deep voice, and through the reflection of the tv screen in front of them, Minho could make out the way he leaned down and pressed a feverish kiss to Felix’s exposed neck.

  Like a train wreck that you can’t stop watching, Minho couldn’t help but turn his head to watch Felix atop Renjun again. He was still dancing across his lap, doing so with a little more fervor this time. The compliments probably fueled his fire, Minho assumed. Felix was gradually beginning to wreak of a mix of weed, liquor, and the sweet scent of floral perfume. Yet in that moment, it was all too intoxicating for Minho. 

  Turning his head slowly, Felix ruffled Renjun’s locks playfully. “Awe thanks— I feel so flattered that you find me pretty, Renjunnie~” He cooed in a gentle voice, fingers skirting across Renjun’s round cheek with a caress. 

  “Well, I’m sure Minho sure doesn’t wanna fuck you.” Jeongin deadpanned, his voice cascading down around their small group. He was still focused on the game but bent his head backward a bit. Fox-like eyes studied Minho’s face in the smokiness of the room just then. And Jeongin’s lips cracked into a wide, Cheshire grin just as he turned back to the tv. “Actually, never mind— maybe he does.” 

  The entire time, Minho had been entirely too quiet. Letting everything play out, observing and judging silently. He was probably the oldest one in that room, and he could feel the significance of his grade year and maturity weighing down on his shoulders like a 200lb barbell. 

  He took a final swig of his soju, before tossing it into a nearby trashcan. “Honestly, I’m old enough to be his brother, so no— definitely not,” Minho said in a low tone, his throat constricting a tiny bit. 

  But it was just the alcohol, it was just the liquor that was getting to him. 

  And the weed in the air and the cigarettes and every other thing floating around him. It was the loud bass thrumming through the bottoms of his feet and it was the blaring disco ball that was flashing rainbow-colored shapes on the dance floor. 

  Yes, it was all of that… 

  And none of what Felix was doing beside him, or how Felix was looking at him or- 

  “I mean, yeah— a dancer and fashion designer together?? Fucking hell, it’d never work. Aren’t dancers always too tired to even get it up in the first place?” Renjun slurred his words just a tiny bit, as the weed no doubt flooded into his system. 

  “But I bet those hips don’t lie!” Jeongin shrieked with laughter, slapping his leg in happiness at their stupid jokes. 

  So suddenly, Minho realized why he was invited to the party in the first place. 

  He wasn’t included to have a good time, or because he was missed, or because people wanted to meet him. 

  No, he was invited to be the laughing stock of everyone there… 

  Hey guys- look! A stupid ass senior shimmying his way into a freshman party, look at how stupid he looks— 

  trying to hit on the hottest guy on campus.

   And the thinks that he has a fighting fucking chance when everyone else wants — and gets to have Felix — 

  But no , definitely not him, not ever. The brother’s best friend?? Felix would never stoop so low. 

  The energy shifted between Minho and the rest of them sitting there on the couch, freezing in place as soon as he shot up from his spot on the couch. Yanking out his phone from his pants pocket, the screen flashed with the time — one in the morning. He had been acting stupid, been the night’s entertainment, for more than three hours. And just as he realized the time, he noticed the eyes on him — how half of the room was watching him, with people hiding their smiles and laughs behind palms and solo cups and joints. 

  “I have class tomorrow, I should head out.” Is the only explanation he gave, not even affording Felix or the others another glance as he pulled away from the sofa and forced his way through the shaking bodies on the dance floor. And when Jisung and Seungmin called out to him from the kitchen as he passed them by, he gave them no attention. 

  The eyes on his back, which he could feel the entire way to the door, just about killed him. He felt like he was about to suffocate, his heart racing against his ribcage, pushing and pushing, just like he had been pushed all night by everyone. 

  And Felix was no better. 

  He was no better than everyone else because he was the one who had invited him in the first place. 

  So Minho was shocked, then, when he felt a small hand grab ahold of his wrist just as he was about to step into the elevator. To take him away from such a hellhole and such a depressing prison of losers. 

  “Minho— wait, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean—”

   Minho didn’t even turn around, couldn’t, in that moment. Instead, he let Felix hold onto him, let the feeling of his nimble fingers cascade through his system. Let Felix gradually move his hand until he was threading his fingers through Minho’s. 

  Just like they used to sometimes when they hung out together in their childhood. 

  When they were bored, and no one was around, and Chris was nowhere to be found and they could— 

  “It’s all my fault, I’m sorry— I was so fucking stupid for thinking—”

  “Why do you hang out with those people?” 

  Was all that Minho could manage to say, focusing his attention on the way Felix’s hand radiated warmth, how it lit up all the synapses of Minho’s body and kindled the dying fire inside of the deepest parts of him. 

  “They’re my friends, they’re not just ‘people’ to me.” 

  At that, Minho let out a dry laugh. The kind that had no humor in it and was completely sardonic. “What a great bunch of friends you got there, Lix…” 

  Minho regretted the moment he said the word, the moment he used the old nickname in such a cold, seething kind of way. Because as soon as it fell from his lips, the warm fingers wrapped around his were pulling away. 

  “I was nice enough to invite you, I was nice enough to let you into my life again— and you’ve decided to shit on it.” Minho still had his back turned on him, but he could imagine the look on Felix’s face then. If his low, venomous tone was anything to go off of. 

  Slowly, Minho turned around. He found his body moving on their own accord. And just like that, he was facing Felix again. Minho was studying his face and the way it was drained of all color. How there was nothing in his eyes then, but only heartbreak and barely-masked tears. 

  “I never asked to be let in, Felix,” Minho said, but the words came out as a whisper. Like if he spoke loud enough, someone from inside the party would hear them and come running out to take photos. Look, the campus's local desperate senior trying to coax the popular freshman into- “You know I didn’t. Not like this, never.” 

  Without even trying to, Minho could feel his body moving again. His hand reached up and caressed Felix’s cheek. Thumb smoothing across freckles and softness, brushing just underneath his long eyelashes. And for a moment, just like it was once again a dream, Felix leaned into it. Let himself go for but a mere breath, sighing into it. 

  He pressed his face a little closer to Minho’s hand, eyes fluttering shut only slightly. Cheeks heating up underneath Minho’s touch, Felix's gaze shot open again as soon as the thumb underneath his eye migrated to his mouth. Migrated to caressing his bottom lip. 

  “Don’t.” 

  Minho watched the single word escape past Felix’s lips, and instantly, the tension in the air between them broke and shattered. Like someone had taken a knife to his heart once more, tearing him apart by flesh and bone, his hand was dropping from Felix’s skin. 

  “Go back to the party so you can get fucked by Renjun.” 

  The statement was a double-edged sword, both of them knew. 

  The words registered in Felix’s mind and Minho watched as the disdain colored his energy again. Painting him in violent shades of crimson and lilac, Felix said nothing as Minho backed away and into the elevator. 

  Just before he was able to press the button inside to go down, Felix reached out and grabbed ahold of the elevator’s door. “Don’t you ever fucking come back around these parts, or I’ll-” He spit out in a wicked kind of way, the emotions swirling in his pupils. 

 “You’ll… what? Beat me up? You and I both know you’re not capable of that, Lixie…” Minho said, his tone winding around the crackling air between them. He flashed Felix one final smirk, before pushing the button to go down to the first floor. 

  The last thing he saw before the elevator doors closed was Felix’s face, the way his pretty red lips were pressed into a firm, displeased line. The way his eyes were hooded with a mix of rage and exasperation. 

  The last thing that Minho saw on Felix’s face that night was utter betrayal and contempt… 

  To be honest, it was just like the old days again… when Minho had told Felix he was leaving for university and they'd never be able to talk again...

  He had wished to travel back to their childhoods so much, 

  And like a blessing from the God’s, he had been afforded such a thing. 

  What a sweet memory to travel back to… Such sweet revenge to be gifted. 

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

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[nickeverdeen]

Hehehe could I get an Arcane and/or Nimona matchup😋 I’mma yap a lot so prepare LMAOO

My name is Kathryn (or Kat for short) and I'm in school for graphic design and communications - I originally wanted to go into cosmetology to become a desairologist, but I didn't get in. I play piano, dance (hip hop, ballet, tap, and jazz), and sing. I also produce my own music.

Idk how to classify my style so I'lI say it alternates between morute, gloomy coquette, dollette, gothic, and alternative. I also lean heavily towards the feminine side of the spectrum.

I practice witchcraft and l'm also a Christian. I have a weird fascination with dolls and I collect them, specifically porcelain dolls. Like, it's so bad LMAO my friends are scared to come into my room atp!!! Literally I'm probs on someone's rob list I have one worth $400😭🙏

I also collect vinyls. I have over $600 worth of them save me…

Some of my favorite music artists are Bambi Baker, Melanie Martinez, Solya, Elita, Ha Vay, Baby Bugs, and Mercy Necromancy. I also like a lot of rock; AC/DC, Scene Queen, Delilah Bon, BANSHEE, Gurldoll, Ashnikko (she's sometimes rock), and Ennaria

I suppress literally everything until I just burst and it’s been building for two years now so uh yay😍

My humor’s honestly really weird. I can laugh at bread falling but find a really good dad joke stupid and unfunny. I also tend to match the personality of the person I'm speaking to. I’ve also been told I’m really great at comfort but I don’t know about that. A lot of people confide in me with their problems. Like a lot..🥲 not that I mind, it just gets a bit tiring

I’m more attracted to masc leaning people but I’ve also dated fems before. It doesn’t really matter to me as long as we have chemistry, but I do find myself eyeing a lot more masculine girls.. I’m kind of attracted to men, but not a whole lot.

I also don’t like touch unless I’ve known the person for at least 6 months or I initiate it. I’ve had multiple breakdowns because someone who wasn’t a “safe person” touched me without giving any warning…… I tense up MASSIVELY when someone hugs me even if I know they’re going to. The only people that don’t have that effect on me are my best friend (who I’ve known for 4 years) and my dad.

I took a state personality test and I’m exactly 50% INFP and 50% INFJ. Legit confused the test and it gave me both💀

Im diagnosed with anxiety & depression. I've been told I might have OCD, BPD and some sort of depersonalization/derealization disorder.

I believe I could have autism or ADHD. I also have heavy hallucinations that can last either 30 minutes or 2 weeks. I have major mood swings too. One minute I can literally be bouncing up and down while wanting to blow something up and then the next I’ll be crying on the floor😭

Aaanyway I think that’s enough of me yapping have a great day babes<3

Your Arcane match is…

Caitlyn Kiramman

Caitlyn would love discussing your music collection, especially rock and alternative genres

It may not seem like it, but she has a soft spot for underground bands and loves discovering new music

Caitlyn’s patient and empathetic nature makes her a great listener, offering comfort and understanding when you’re feeling overwhelmed or anxious

She’d be your rock during your mood swings

Provides a calming presence and helpes you through tough moments with patience and care

Caitlyn respects your need for personal space and takes care not to touch you without permission, understanding the importance of consent and comfort

Caitlyn would plan unique and adventurous dates, like exploring hidden spots in Piltover or attending underground music gigs

She herself would maybe prefer a classic restaurant one, but when she tried this she prefered this

Caitlyn would like your unique style and often compliment your outfits, even suggesting accessories or outfits that might suit your aesthetic

She’d be a bit unsure and creeped out by the doll thing, though

Caitlyn would silently encourage you to express your emotions and not suppress them

Caitlyn’s love for photography would complement your graphic design skills, and you’d often collaborate on creative projects

She would cherish quiet, quality time with you

Whether it’s listening to music together, having deep conversations, or simply enjoying each other’s company

Your Nimona match is…

Nimona

Nimona’s playful nature would match your quirky humor

She’d often make you laugh with her antics and shapeshifting abilities

Nimona would love going on spontaneous adventures with you, whether it’s exploring new places or trying out new activities

Nimona’s fierce loyalty means she’d be incredibly protective of you, always ready to stand up for you if anyone tried to harm or disrespect you

Nimona would appreciate your artistic talents and often encourage you to express yourself through your art and music

Her unconventional ways of comforting might seem odd, but they’d always make you feel better, like turning into a cute animal to cheer you up

Slowly she would learn to respect your boundaries over time, ensuring she doesn’t touch you without your consent

Nimona would love discovering new music with you and often play your favorite songs during your adventures together

Despite her tough exterior, Nimona has a deep understanding of emotions and would be there for you during your highs and lows

Nimona’s idea of a date would be anything but ordinary – from sneaking into restricted areas to watching thunderstorms from a safe spot

She’d like your unique style and individuality, often praising your confidence

[hokkyokusei]

Characters' body proportions, "long legs syndrome" or why some people create hatred for the sake of hatred

First, let me explain to people who may not understand how proportions work in drawing.

I also want to remind you of a simple truth: change is not bad. Note: I took extra art classes in elementary school for 4 years and then completed 5 art classes(years) at art school. During my last years of study I had the most wonderful teachers. Still love one of these teachers so much.

And that is why I am sure that what is now considered a trend and supposedly the norm is a VERY BIG mistake.

I've noticed a trend of hate towards Onmyoji's game developers, and while I agree with some of their f#ck-ups, I still want to remind you that there are PEOPLE LIKE US working there. Hateful comments are not constructive criticism!

So who here thinks that the characters supposedly have “long legs syndrome”? Where and how did you get this information and who told you THAT THIS IS TRUE?

I was just furious when I read this nonsense on Weibo, the worst thing is that people don’t even understand this and blindly believe it! Don't blindly believe everything the Internet gives you! You can always check for yourself or find people who understand this topic!

Today I found out that the art team has changed and we can actually see that this seems to be true as the latest designs have changed.

I see a bunch of accusations and dissatisfaction against the developers that they draw incorrectly. Again, has anyone seen a sensible answer other than just a comparison of heights compared to previous works?

Secondly, I want to break down this stupid idea of long leg syndrome in characters.

The correct proportions in drawing are considered to be 7-8 heads from head to toe.

Hair growth, heels, levitation and other attributes are absolutely NOT taken into account. Only the skull and so the heads need to be counted 7-8.

There are times when artists can draw up to 9 heads in height. For example, big heroes.

Individual haracteristics, injuries (for example, a hernia in the back will make the height shorter, too tall growth will slightly change the proportions) must be taken into account.

The people “with long legs syndrome” are you and I look like in reality. Frequently, this is a European type of appearance. Asians, for example, have lower butts than Europeans (tested on Koreans lol), that’s why they think that our legs are longer, although they are also beautiful in proportion.

But another fun fact: we don’t have ideal proportions, because our fingers, arms, legs, etc. are longer and shorter by a few millimeters invisible to us.

But we're talking about basic anatomy in drawing, right? Teenagers and children have different proportions, but since they were not compared, I won’t describe them here; if you’re interested, you can find them on the Internet.

Proportions also differ between men and women.

+ in humans, proportions change with age.

For those who compare with the old character models in the game: Apparently, the art team has changed. So now they do what they want. And they do it competently and correctly in terms of proportions in the drawing. I don't judge past artists; Every creative person sees things differently. But the game continues to develop and this is ABSOLUTELY normal and natural. I don't think that old models will be remade for the sake of correct proportions, they will be optimized, but not completely remade in a new way. I think it's cool, kind of showing respect to those who originally worked on the character model.

People suffer every day and express their hatred online. I do not defend the mistakes of the developers, but I also ask you not to incite hatred everywhere without understanding the topic well.

Also remember that sometimes mistakes happen. As one wonderful mangaka said when asked about the difference in the height of characters on different pages of the manga: there was an uneven floor somewhere!

I hope this post has helped you and now you see things from a different perspective. If you have questions, you can ask them here or in DM.

And if you have the chance, send this post to people who believe in "long legs syndrome" characters, or send them to the Internet to google information about correct proportions (o˘◡˘o)

[merinsedai]

More bingo snippets

for the @dreamlingbingo

snippet 1/4

Square/Prompt:E3- Bad Pick Up Lines

Title: Robert Gadling's Diary

Rating: T

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Warnings: n/a

Additional Tags: Bridget Jones' Diary au, general silliness,

It's me again, filling some more prompts with this silly AU of Bridget Jones. But Merin, you cry, will you ever write something where you haven't transposed the characters into a different story? To which I reply.... no? Well, maybe. That can be a 2025 goal. For now, have more au silliness. I have.... 4.... of these I think.

“You know my Robert, don’t you?” she trills. “He used to run around your lawn with no clothes on, remember?”

Fucking hell,  Hob really wishes he’d had the balls to say no to the turkey curry buffet for once. Then he’d have been at home with his head down the toilet, same as all normal people in this Twixmas week instead of being subject to the mortifying ordeal that is his mother’s bizarre attempt at setting him up with an (admittedly handsome) stranger.

Said handsome stranger certainly looks as if he wished that Hob had stayed at home as well, despite the fact they’ve not exchanged a single word. His sharp blue-eyed gaze sweeps over Hob once before settling back on his face, managing to convey an expression of supreme and haughty disdain with just the slight curl of his lip. It is actually quite impressive.

“Not as such, no,” Morpheus says in a surprisingly deep and measured voice. Dammit, nice face. Nice voice. Why couldn’t he have the nice personality too? Holy Trinity, that. Not that Hob is adverse to nasty bastards per se. Especially pretty ones… maybe his mother had chosen well for once?

“Well, I’ll leave you to it!” Hob’s mother says brightly. “Una’s been on the gravy and it’ll need sieving, mark my words! Have fun, darlings!” And she sashays away, taking the plate of gherkins with her. Hob didn’t even get the opportunity to ask if Morpheus wanted one. That would have given him something to say at least. 

There is a long moment of awkward silence, which Morpheus doesn’t seem inclined to break, so Hob does.

“So, are you staying with your parents for Christmas?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Hob waits a moment to see if there will be any elaboration to this statement but there isn’t.

“I’ve just arrived today. Been down in London, partying, y’know. Killer hangover but, “ he waggles the glass in his hand, half-full and still glistening with condensation, “hair of the dog, n’ all!”

“I see.”

“Got any plans for New Year?”

“No.”

Bloody hell, this bloke is hard work. Hob’s not been subject to monosyllables since high school. Still, he’s not one to back away from a challenge. He’s good at making people laugh, at forging a connection through humour. Maybe some silly pick lines will help break the ice and loosen this guy up.

“Is your dad a boxer?” he asks and Morpheus’s eyebrows draw down in confusion at the non sequitur .

“What?”

“‘Cause you’re a knockout.” Hob says with a wink. “Or maybe you’re an artist?”

“I am a lawyer,” Morpheus frowns, showing not one bit of recognition of these ridiculous lines. 

“Oh? ‘Cause you’re doing a really good job of drawing me in!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Look, my mother’s trying to set us up,” Hob says cheerfully, reaching out and poking Morpheus in the chest in what he hopes is a conspiratorial manner. Luckily he remembers to do this with the hand holding his champagne flute and not the one holding his burning cigarette. Things probably can’t get that much worse, but burning a hole in a suit jacket that looks like it cost more than Hob’s yearly rent would definitely make it so.  “And you’re much better looking than her usual picks, so I thought I’d give it my best shot!”

“And that was your best shot?” Morpheus says, managing to combine flatness and incredulity in one measured tone. “Corny puns about my possible profession?”

“Ah well, I thought so. Shall I try a different one? Hm..” Hob takes a pull on his cigarette, humming thoughtfully. “Ok, how about: ‘do you have WiFi, because I think we have a connection,” he laughs at the faintly repulsed look on Morpheus’s face. “No? What about ‘are you a camera? Because every time I look at you, I smile!”

“And this normally works for you, does it?” Morpheus asks before Hob can go on. “When you are… ‘Picking someone up”? He laces the words with derision and Hob huffs a laugh. Blimey, this guy is uptight. Not the hint of a smile from him. Not even an indulgent eye-roll.

“Yeah, sometimes,” he admits with a shrug. “Makes people laugh at least, starts the conversation going. It’s just a bit of lighthearted cheesiness. And hey, apparently there’s even been research about it. The things people will research nowadays, eh?”

“I see,” Morpheus’s tone is clipped. Unimpressed and dismissive.  “Well. As… illustrative as this conversation has been, I believe it is time to. Eat.” he nods his head in dismissal. “Good evening.”

[randum-famdoms]

Hello! I'm reading one of your fic's on ao3 and was wondering when it's gonna be updated? I ABSOLUTELY LOVE the fic and wanna know how long until we get a new chapter! Love your writing! And I was so happy to see that you gave Mishima such a cool persona! I love the fic so much! I've been ranting to my friends about it nonstop (even though neither of them have ever played the game) but they both sit there and listen nonetheless! (I may even try and convince them to read it! It's a pretty interesting take on the whole game! And the part where Akira is worried that Mishima will have a problem with him being gay and Mishima just like "If I had a problem with it I would've said something back in kamoshida's palace" was amazing! I love everything about it and I can't explain in words just why I love it so much! It's just amazing! If I was better at art I would LOVE to make some fanart of it!!! Again I can't explain just how much I love it! I hope you're doing well and aren't sick!

(How was the dog sitting by the way? Hope it went well!)

Ahshdjdkjfndbdkjdl thank you??????

I just. *scream*

The idea that people can love a silly little thing I write for fun this much is kinda unreal to me. Idk how to respond???? Thanks????

I mean, I’ve reacted like this to fics I have read before but having it turned into myself is trippy. Like this is some weirdly dream or some shit. Idk man. Shit’s wild.

Every time someone tells me how happy they are about the way I’m treating mishima in my fic I am further convinced that everyone who says he’s a bad character is a fucking coward and if more people would just make Mishima positive content then the fandom would be better off. He does not get enough love and appreciation and I will gladly take on the mantle of Mishima Ambassador. He is my blorbo, my boi, and I love him dearly. He deserves better, both in game and in the fandom, so I just did it myself.

Also, I ain’t about to beg you for fanart because you reading my fic is more than enough already and then you sent me this ask and Ann bear gave me a heart attack from joy, but trust me if you think you’re a bad artist I’ve seen worse. Much, much worse. I took an art class in a very sports heavy highschool and 90% of the kids in there were teenage boys who thought it would be an easy A. The first assignment was to draw a realistic hand. You’d think that they were AI with how bad some of them looked. So yeah, any hypothetical art you make is beautiful to me, especially because I’m fairly sure that if anyone made fanart of my fic I’d cry tears of joy <3

I tried really hard to update every week and I failed miserably, so I’ve made the decision to cut back to every other week. I’m like 85% sure that I’ll get the next chapter up this Sunday. I started my summer classes today and one of them (my English class) is cramming a 14 week course into 4 weeks, but I’ve always been pretty good at English/reading/writing so I’m hoping that that won’t ruin my update schedule AGAIN. I swear I can’t go two weeks without something fucking up my writing/editing time. We’ll see how it goes. I am not sick don’t worry, Just like, super fuckin tired cause my sleep schedule is fucked. I’m pretty good otherwise tho!

Dogsitting went well! I actually finished up with that yesterday. The little demon I was taking care of had absolutely no braincells, and was very annoying, and she kept pooping in my bathroom no matter how often I tried to take her outside to shit, but at least she’s small so it was easy to clean up and she was a good size to cuddle. Overall it was a 5/10 experience that was turned into a 9/10 because of the couple hundred dollar paycheck I got for it. The family I was doing it for is uncomfortably rich lol. Pretty sure some of it is blood money because the dad is an ex-cop turned middle school teacher (neither of which make good money) and the mom is a Russian immigrant stay-at-home mom and they somehow own a huge house in a really nice neighborhood and can afford a two week trip to the Caribbean on that income. I ain’t gonna complain tho.

I’m excited to get chapter 11 written and posted, I think it’s gonna be really fun! Lots of good plot and character development is gonna be happening :) the fic is really picking up now that we’ve finally gotten over all the exposition hurdles. Only took 60k words lol (I swear I thought that it would take half as long as it did to get to this point in the fic, at this rate the things gonna end up 800k words long and I’ll be dead before it’s finished)

[underforeversgrace]

healing the wounds we hid - 4

title: healing the wounds we hid

words: 3,067

Finally, the sequel to broken trust and the wounds hidden behind! (Refresh here on AO3 or here on Tumblr)

Story Summary: Now that his father knows, Danny's life is changing for the better. Jack encourages him to let his friends and the rest of the family into his small word. Unbeknownst to Danny, Jack is secretly worried about how Maddie will react to the news upon her return to Amity - and how to confront Vlad once Jack learns his true identity. Amidst it all, an enemy lurks and plots their revenge.

Chapter 4 of 11: Knowing You

AO3

Tumblr Chapter One

(Tumblr Chapter Four will be here)

Beta by: @probably-dead and @scarletsaphire!

Featuring art from this fic's second artist, @saxonroa!

Note: This one was already published to AO3, but apparently I never published it here! My bad!

~~~~~~

Jack stared at the mansion as the GAV idled, hesitating with his hand on the key in the ignition. It was the day after he’d learned the truth about Vlad, and now it was time to confront him. Some part of him wondered if he should let Danny know what he was doing, but he was at school. It was time for the adults to talk anyway.

With a sense of finality, Jack turned the key and pulled it out, turning the vehicle off and jumping out of it. He double checked his suit, making sure he had multiple weapons, along with two personal ghost shields. Vlad Masters would be able to get through them, yes, but it would still keep his ecto attacks from hitting or his Plasmius form from getting too close.

Confident he had enough weapons to at least escape to the GAV, Jack held his head high as he marched towards Vlad’s front door. He knocked before he had the chance to second guess himself again.

He didn’t have to wait long before he heard the sound of the lock disengaging and Vlad opened the door, clad in a red robe, his white hair hanging loosely around his face.

“Jack. What a…pleasant…surprise.” Vlad said, schooling his expression into one of mild interest.

“Wish I could say the same,” Jack said as he body checked Vlad out of his way, crossing the threshold and closing the door behind him.

“What the butter puffs, Jack?” Vlad huffed in annoyance.

“You and I are going to have a talk,” Jack said, glaring at Vlad, pulling himself up to his full height.

Vlad at least had the common courtesy to look concerned. “Whatever about, my old friend?”

“Cut the bullshit, Vlad. I know.”

“You know what?” He asked, rolling his eyes.

“I figured it out. You blame me, don’t you?”

“Jack, I’m afraid I don’t -“

“Stop messing with me, Plasmius!” Jack shouted. “I know what you are, I know who you are! But what I don’t understand is why? You reviewed the math, Maddie reviewed the chemical compositions. We all messed up! Yet you blame me? And decide to beat my son bloody because of something that happened before he was even born?”

The faux friendliness fell from Vlad’s face, settling into a scowl. “Jack, stop talking nonsense.”

Jack grunted in frustration and walked past Vlad, to the living room just beyond the foyer.

The other man groaned and began to speak but Jack cut him off.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I get Danny, he was afraid. But you? Why hide it?”

Vlad narrowed his eyes accusingly at Jack. “You never visited. Five years in that hospital and neither of you ever came to see me.”

“We tried!” Jack said, stunned. “We tried for weeks to see you but you were under quarantine. And then you were better but accepting no visitors and then you were discharged and never talked to us. We thought you hated us. We thought you’d forgiven us when you invited us to the reunion."

Vlad’s face twisted in anger. “Forgiven you? You’re even dumber than I thought you were, Jack. You killed me! Your negligence cost me my life! But I made it better, didn’t I? Turned your fuck up into a gift. Created Plasmius, created an empire of wealth for myself. I may have given the ghost a name, but you’re the one who created this!” He shouted and then black rings were around his waist, so similar and yet so strikingly different than Danny’s, and Jack could only watch while his chest ached in shame. “How does it feel to have created not just one monster, but two? Remember when we contemplated the idea of hybridism in college? All the things we could do and learn from a thing like that, before we laughed it off as a joke because how could such a freak of nature ever exist? I’ve been trying to kill you for twenty years, Jack! And now your ridiculous child can’t even keep a secret?”

Jack listened to Vlad’s rant, the heavy blanket of guilt pressing further into him the longer he talked. Plasmius breathed angrily, his red eyes burning into Jack with rage Jack had never known Vlad able to possess.

A canyon of silence stretched between them. Jack fidgeted, running his hand through his hair as he tried to gather his thoughts and break it.

“Danny didn’t tell me. I figured it out - figured out both of you. He doesn’t know I know.”

“Wow, a rare moment of Jack Fenton brilliance,” Plasmius said, mockery and anger dripping from his tone like venom. 

“Why am I here?” Jack asked.

“You practically break into my house and you’re asking me why you’re here?” Vlad asked, the shift from fury to bewilderment so instantaneous it was nearly amusing.

“Not here as in your house. Here, in general. Alive. Breathing.” He asked cautiously, wondering how much of the Vlad he had known was left in his friend.

“Daniel is quite protective,” he growled. “Constantly interferes with my plans and saves everyone. Even for people who’d kill him.”

“He’s also only fifteen. He hasn’t even been de-“ Jack choked on the word “-dead for two years. And I’m only human.” Vlad was silent as he processed Jack’s question, so Jack continued, his voice tired. “You’re one of the richest men in the world. I’m oblivious, but not that oblivious. You could’ve hired someone to murder me and make it look like an accident. But I’m still here.”

Jack felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, crushing him into dust even as Plasmius came for him, hands outstretched. He vaguely remembered the weapons he’d brought with him as Vlad grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the wall, but he suddenly found he didn’t care to use them, even as he grabbed at Vlad’s wrists and struggled for air.

At least Vlad wasn’t as cold as Danny.

“Maybe I wanted to do it with my own hands,” Vlad hissed, lifting Jack off his feet. Jack clawed at Vlad’s hands, desperate to be let down. “Maybe I needed to make sure you hurt as much as I did, suffer as much as I did! And now you offer yourself up to me on a platter!”

Jack couldn’t speak, becoming lightheaded as Vlad continued to strangle him. Looking into Vlad’s red, pupil-less eyes full of rage and pain, Jack began to wonder if he’d made a mistake, if the friend he’d known really had become someone capable of murder, when doubt and regret crossed Vlad’s face.

“Fuck!” Vlad shouted, releasing Jack from his grip. Jack fell to the floor two feet beneath him, collapsed onto his hands and knees as he breathed in the beautiful, cool air around him. “Fuck!” He repeated, blasting some of the furniture around them into pieces with his pink ecto rays. Plasmius floated down to the floor, and Jack wasn't sure if the tears forming in the ghost’s eyes were from anger or grief.

“Damn you, Jack Fenton,” Vlad hissed. “You and your perfect life, with the woman I love and the kids I always wanted! Why do you get everything? Why do you get to be happier than me? Why can’t I kill you?”

“‘Perfect life?’” Jack asked, his voice still a little breathless as he pushed himself to his feet. “You think my life is perfect? You can have it! Along with every mistake I’ve ever made! I killed you, my best friend! I killed my son. I’ve hunted him, hurt him! I only know now because I found a goodbye video he filmed in case I killed him again! I’ve pushed my daughter away. I’m terrified my wife is going to try to kill our son!” 

Tears fell as all the pain he’d masked since the video tumbled out, finally able to let out everything he’d kept within. “Do you want your son’s blood on your hands? Do you want to remember all the dreams you had of torturing him? Do you want to know he spent almost two years afraid you wouldn’t love him enough to not dissect him?”

The room began to blur as tears clouded his vision, as he cried so hard his chest burned. “Do you want to learn that someone else did do that to him? And he still feared you too much to come for help, that he stitched up his own vivisection wound? Because if you want all of that, you can have it! All the guilt, all the pain, all the things I’ve broken. Do you still want my perfect life? Because I don’t!”

The two men looked at each other as Jack finished his breakdown, before a bitter laugh escaped Vlad. “Ironic. Of the two of us, I’m the one who wants to kill, yet you’re the one with blood on your hands.”

All the energy Jack had previously had vanished, and he sagged against the same wall he’d been pinned to. “I have to live with my mistakes. So believe me when I say living is worse, when I have to face my mistakes every day. Maybe that’ll make you feel better, Vlad.”

“Hmph,” Vlad said, black rings sweeping across him again, turning him back to Masters. “That does bring me some happiness.”

“Wonderful,” Jack said dryly, looking around at the mess - and lack of intact furniture. He sighed, sliding to the floor, exhausted after letting out all the shame he’d buried so deep.

Awkward silence settled between the two.

“I’m sorry, Vlad.”

~~~~~~

Danny yawned as his friends bickered, poking at the food in front of him. It was nice, to be back here with them. It’d been a few days since they’d found out - he’d told them on Monday afternoon and it was now Friday - and his fear had largely faded away. He’d been so worried they’d be okay with it and then realize that he was a freak, a monster, and grow afraid of him, that they’d out him to the town and the government. But they’d accepted him back with open arms, even insisting on joining him on patrol (once he showed them how to use a blaster and told them in no uncertain terms that if it got too dangerous, they needed to run). 

He felt Tucker elbow him gently. “Yo, you good? You’re playing with your food instead of eating again.” Tucker asked.

“You’ve been doing that a lot. Do you just… not eat as much anymore?” Sam added, dropping her voice at the end.

The urge to lie bubbled up against his lips, but he forced it down. He kept having to remind himself that he didn’t need to lie anymore, not to these two. “Not recently,” he admitted. “I’ve been losing my appetite the past three or four weeks. It had actually increased for a long time after the accident, but now I’m just not hungry.”

Sam pursed her lips thoughtfully. “So around the time your dad started helping you?”

Danny paused as he thought back, though he also felt an odd stirring in his core. Sam and Tucker had listened to every story he told with rapt attention and it made him feel… loved?… that Sam had remembered a detail that small. “Uh, yeah, actually you’re right. Weird. I wonder if it’s related, but how would it be?”

“Okay, don’t freak out,” Sam said and Danny was struck by how unhelpful that sentence was as his initial reaction was to freak out. “I have an idea.”

Danny glanced at Tucker to see if he had any clue what Sam was talking about, but he just shrugged. He didn’t miss the way Tucker’s eyes lingered on him a little longer than necessary before Tucker returned his attention to Sam. This wasn't the first time he had noticed those glances and everytime he did, he had to bury the fear it was Tucker doubting him. He couldn’t explain how he knew that wasn’t it, but somehow he just… knew. Besides, he didn’t… entirely mind them.

“So, you know how some ghosts can sense and feed off emotions?” Sam asked, leaning forward to whisper.

“Uh, yeah?” Danny said with a frown, Spectra coming to mind. He’d told them about his encounters with her, but that was the only feeder ghost he knew of.

“Well, I’ve been doing some reading,” Sam said, patting at her backpack, “and it looks like that’s a common trait. Let me ask - has your appetite dropped even more since telling Tucker and me about you?”

Tucker took a deep breath at Danny’s side, while Danny forgot how to breathe, both realizing what she was saying at the same time. Danny’s eyes widened as he realized Sam was right. He did have another dip in appetite after Sam and Tucker had re-entered his life.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” she said, pulling a book - A Goth’s Guide to Ghosts: The Symbiotic Relationship of the Dying and the Dead - out and flipping through it, looking for a specific page. She set the book down, turning it so he and Tucker could read it, pointing at the title of the chapter.

“Emotions and their Nutritional Value?” Tucker read aloud.

Sam nodded, then pointed to a passage further down. “Look here.”

Danny pulled the book closer to him. “‘While most ghosts feed on the negative emotions of people - one of the reasons why ghosts like to hang around the standard goth - some have been theorized to find more sustenance on the emotions of the happy. Therefore, when first attempting to contact your ghostly suitor, it is imperative to ensure the ghost can get appropriate energy from you and your emotions.’”

“Is this a book about keeping ghosts as pets?” Tucker asked, eyes continuing to scan the page.

Danny felt like cement had been poured down his throat. He couldn’t eat human emotions. He couldn’t.

“Honestly, I don’t know, some parts read like the ghost is the pet and others like the human is,” Sam shrugged. “But it has some good information, and that wasn’t the point I was making.”

“You think Danny can eat our emotions?” Tucker said, brows furrowed in confusion.

Danny could barely hear the conversation over his heart thudding against his rib cage, the sound of whooshing blood loud in his ears. He was human. Human. Sure, he’d come to terms with being half ghost (and therefore half dead), but he still felt more human than ghost. If he could eat emotions and not need real food, was he becoming more ghostly?

Was his ghost half overpowering his human half?

“I think so,” Sam confirmed, her voice sounding so far away. "His dad and the two of us? I think he’s sensing, I don’t know… companionship? Safety?”

“Love?” Tucker questioned. Sam nodded, opening her mouth to say something else, but Tucker had realized Danny’s silence wasn’t thoughtfulness - it was panic. “Danny?” he said, shaking Danny’s shoulder gently.

“I can’t,” Danny said hoarsely, shaking his head, refusing to accept it even if he knew it was true.

“Danny, it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with it.” Tucker said gently.

“You aren’t hurting us. The book talks about how it isn’t harmful to humans. We didn't even notice it was happening until now. Spectra sought pain and depression, that’s why she was dangerous.” Sam agreed, reaching across the table and patting the back of one of Danny’s hands.

“How can you be okay with this?” Danny choked out. “You guys, my dad. I’m a freak of nature and you all act like it’s fine. I don’t understand.”

“We’re your friends and your dad’s, well, your dad. It’s fine because it’s you,” Sam said.

“So no more moping about being weird, ‘cuz everyone at this table is a freak,” Tucker added with a laugh and pulled a reluctant smile from Danny. “You’re our friend and we’re not going anywhere. Besides!” Tucker continued, pulling Danny’s plate of spaghetti from in front of him. “Now I get more free food!”

The smile felt weird on his face as he glanced between his two friends. “You’re sure? You still… want to be around me?” He asked. Even though they’d said so many times, he still struggled to believe it.

“You’re the one who can eat our emotions,” Tucker said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “Are we lying?”

“Or are we just happy to be around you?” Sam added.

Danny hesitated, then closed his eyes and focused on… something. Something within him - like his core but not. There, he could feel it, feel them. Joy, respect, loyalty floated within him, though they were definitely not his own emotions. Shockingly, though, love - romantic love - was one of the brightest and strongest he sensed. He couldn’t tell how he knew, but when he opened his eyes and stared at Tucker in shock, he knew it was Tucker the love was coming from, even before Tucker gave him a shy smile.

Well. That explained the lingering glances recently.

“You’re telling the truth.” Danny said, smiling at Tucker before he turned to look at Sam. That was a conversation for just the two of them, for when they were alone.

“Told you so,” Tucker and Sam said at the same time, pulling a genuine laugh from him.

Two months ago, Danny had been convinced he’d spend the rest of his life suffering alone, especially after his time with the Guys in White (a story he hadn’t told Sam and Tucker and never planned to). 

For so long, Danny had accepted his existence was to suffer, to be bled and broken and bruised over and over, to serve his penance for opening the portal, alone and in agony until he died again. He’d accepted his friends’ hatred, his family’s disdain for one half of him and their disappointment in the other. He’d decided that while his life wasn’t worth fighting for, everyone else’s was, no one else deserved to die for his mistake.

But as he nonchalantly placed his hand on the bench near Tucker’s and their fingers entwined, as Sam changed topics as though this entire conversation hadn’t been impossible, as he remembered everything his father had done for him… he decided that, maybe, just maybe, he was worth fighting for, too.

[crosseyedcricketart]

Joan Mitchell's Barbie - Personal Work

Joan Mitchell was someone I wasn’t familiar with—not with her art, not with her, or that she existed. There was one fateful day, though, in the summer of 2021 when I went to a weird used bookstore in Chattanooga, Tennessee and found a college-level, hardcover textbook being sold for $60. So, I got the textbook for $60. On the covers, there was an abstract painting—which an off handed comment was made about “what has art come to? is this art?”—and I quite enjoyed it. The colors made sense, I liked the strokes, and I liked it. That’s it. But I personally had a thought—I’m sure a man made this, because they’re more likely to get away with this. And based off the date (and me ignoring the feminine first name), I assumed I was right. Well, I was wrong. The artist was Joan Mitchell (1925-1992), a female artist who had a sect of her works which were abstract expressionistic works. But I wouldn’t find that out for two years because I was lazy and didn’t read the painting credit on the literal second page of the textbook. It should be said, I use this textbook for everything. It’s The Gardner’s Art through the Ages 14th edition. I use it so much. And I just ignored that page.

For the next few months into 2022, I had stopped doing more expressionistic work to focus on my college work which took up a lot of my time and creativity. However, one of my professors at the time was Dana Finimore with her paintings in the gallery, being abstract, expressionism. She had told us when she was in art school, she got stupid critiques like “it’s too sentimental”, so she wouldn’t critique us like that. I thought that was an interesting statement, because if your art isn’t sentimental, I don’t think it has a point. Give me the artist, give me medium, and give me the museum lighting. In that order.

So, in February of 2022, I had an assignment to replicate a painting in my sketchbook and I’ll tell you—I took it way too seriously. I was actually shaking thinking about a critique over it. I was so strung up about it. So, I went a little crazy and took out every bit of me that I had thrown away and threw it on a canvas. And that became this painting—Untitled Pink, for the time being. And the day I got to critique, someone I knew had passed away and my professor had no bad things to say about my paintings. So. A lot of worry for nothing.

But back to the thought of “I went a little crazy and took out every bit of me that I had thrown away and threw it on a canvas.” I was a part of the generation of girls, like every generation of girls, who had to say “I’m not like other girls” because being like other girls is… meant to be bad, I guess? But when I was little, I loved Barbie, I loved pink, I loved glitter, I loved unicorns and Pegasus and mermaids and fairies and ballerinas—you get the point. I got bullied for that, though. When you’re young, you don’t realize that you’re being bullied because you’re easy pickings, but instead that something has to be wrong with you. So, I threw all that away and covered it in black and red and anger and Green Day. And I still didn’t fit in after that. And so, I covered myself in brown and beige and drank black coffee and listened to classical music. And I still didn’t fit in after that. And then there was a whole plague, so I had time to think about it. I don’t have to fit in. I’m not meant to. I’m meant to be me. That’s hard to come to terms with when you hate yourself, but I had a good bit of alone time to think about it. So.. I realized I do still like pink. I still like Barbie. I still like Green Day and glitter and black and mermaids and brown and fairies and coffee and everything else—I’m still who I was when I was 4, when I was 7, when I was 10, when I was 13 and 14 and 16 and 18 and now. I’m the same person. I might have grown, and I know I have, but I’m still me. I’m still Annie. I’m still the bad eyeliner I wore when I was 13 and I’m still the same zebra and hot pink Sketchers I wore in 4th grade. Now I just know how wear them better.

All of that is to say, I used Untitled Pink to pull all that back out. I can love pink. I can love glitter. But I can still have skill, and intellect, and interest. Then I got the whiff of the Barbie movie. A movie by a woman who doesn’t shy away from being a woman. I still have to remind myself that I’m allowed to like pink, and the resurgence of Barbie pulled that back out. I watched all those 2000’s Barbie movies. I loved all those very badly designed mini games on Barbie.com. And now that movie is out. And that is something that I’ll carry with me till I die. So, what does all of that have to do with the painting? Well, Barbie is the feminine that I’m allowed to be and should embrace what I have of that, and Joan Mitchell is the woman who kept making art and didn’t define herself as a woman artist, but as an artist who was a woman. Basically, I’m allowed to be a woman. And I will be. I’ll be the woman who likes pink and brown and black and coffee and classical music and Green Day and Fall Out Boy and eyeliner and glitter and mermaids and fairies and ball gowns and ballerinas and I’ll still wear Dr. Martens with all of that on top. And I hope you enjoy my sentimental painting because that’s what it is.

i hope you enjoyed all that, this went up early on my tumblr before my website. https://crosseyedcricket.art | crosseyedcricketart here + Pinterest

[oh-no-another-idea]

15 question OC interview [Paris Edition] 🕑

Thank you for the tags, @autumnalwalker @sleepyowlwrites @pluttskutt @splashinkling @druidx @kittensartswriting and @artdecosupernova-writing (whew!) Now that the votes are in, it’s time to finally fill it out for Paris Carlo!!

Antonio ahems importantly several times, which is blatantly unnecessary as it’s only him and Paris in the room. Paris is fidgeting with the unraveling threads on his tweed jacket sleeve. Antonio holds up his notebook, clears his throat one more time, and says:

Are you named after anyone?

“I don’t know,” Paris answers, looking down. “I’ve never asked, which is funny, now that I think about it. My name is a city, and an ancient prince. It’s just my name, I’ve never needed it to be anything else.”

”Wow,” Antonio says, thinking privately that kind of attitude is rather depressing.

When was the last time you cried?

Paris sighs. "Do I have to answer this?"

"This is a healthy discussion between friends. You have to answer."

"Fine." Paris says. "It was eight years ago at 3:07am March 20th."

Do you have kids?

"Antonio you need to can it with these stupid questions. Do I look like I have kids? I can barely take care of myself."

"But maybe one day?" Antonio can't help but ask hopefully.

Paris shakes his head. "My own father disappeared a long time ago. What if I'm incapable of love too? I wouldnt do that to any child."

Do you use sarcasm?

"Occasionally." He smiles.

What's the first thing you notice about people?

He tilts his head. "The way they stand. Shoulders tipped back and proud? Hunched over? Weight on one hip? Antonio, your stance is pretty strong, which is rather at odds with your indecisiveness."

"Thank you, and how dare you."

What's your eye color?

"Brown. I guess like oak wood in sunlight, if I was being specific. I have a tube of paint called burnt orange. The color is like that."

Scary or happy endings?

"It depends on the story."

"Now who's indecisive?" Antonio demands.

"Fine. Happy endings, even if they're unrealistic."

Any special talents?

Paris lifts a shoulder and puts it back down. "I'm a violinist."

"You're an incredible violinist," Antonio says. "And artist! You paint and sketch better than anyone I know, and you're a wonderful stratagist and you're strong too, from all that unloading work you do."

Paris rolls his eyes. "I thought I was doing the answering, Antonio West."

"Well, your answers are bad."

Where were you born?

Paris squints. "A hot tenement in New York, New York. In October."

What are your hobbies?

"Drawing."

"You're too good for it to be a hobby. Maybe you could draw and play for a living and drop the rough dock work? Stop cutting open your hands?"

"Drawing is a hobby. Its a dream for a kid, Antonio. Don't pretend you understand."

Antonio sticks his tongue out, and then remembers his notebook.

Have you any pets?

"I wish you were a pet, then I could lock you up in a cage and be alone for a time," Paris says, smiling again.

"You love me."

"I'd love you more if you stayed still and quiet and drank from a water bowl."

"Eww!"

What sports do you play/have played?

"Antonio, who did you write these questions for? They're terrible."

"I'll write down you said none," Antonio replies, scribbling. "Because you are a total wet blanket with disgusting opinions."

How tall are you?

"Why the hell does that matter?"

"To get a glimpse of you as a person," Antonio protests, half out of his chair in exasperation. "Stop being so awful!"

"Do I look like I carry rulers around with me?"

"I'm writing down 4 feet," Antonio says crossly. "Everyone will think you're a nasty little gnome."

Favorite subject in school?

"Art," Paris answers. "And math was nice too, I suppose."

"Of course you'd like math," Antonio mutters, and writes it down aggressively.

Dream job?

Paris hummed thoughtfully. "In a world where nothing mattered, I suppose I'd like to sit near the East River and paint till sunset. In this world though, my dream is for this interview to be over."

“Well then consider me your fairy godmother,” Antonio said smugly. “I wouldn’t continue interviewing you if you begged. Congratulations, you’re officially awful at this.”

😁 Not sure who’s done this, so tags for anyone who sees this, and also no pressure tags for @eccaiia @talesfromaurea @sleepy-night-child @drippingmoon @charlesjosephwrites @kaiusvnoir

[hopeymchope]

Just your standard tumblr blog manifesto

Hi! Whether you’re new to my dumb corner of Tumblr or a longer-term follower who just hasn’t particularly noticed (or cared) how I’m doing my thing here, I thought I should sum up my basic principles for this blog in a (somewhat?) useful fashion.  1) I try to always post spoiler tags for EVERY piece of official Danganronpa fiction before discussing any spoilery info OR sharing spoilery artwork. Why? Because it only takes a second to tag posts for people, and you never know who is new to the fandom/hasn’t gotten around to everything yet/is trying to still remain pure on certain subjects. For your spoiler-blocking needs, the tags for each are as follows:

Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc (game/anime/manga) — #dr1 spoilers

Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair (game) — #dr2 spoilers

Danganronpa Another Episode: Ultra Despair Girls (game/manga) — #drae spoilers

Danganronpa 3: The End of Hope’s Peak Academy/High School (anime) — #dr3 spoilers

Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony (game) — #drv3 spoilers

Ultimate Talent Development Plan (AU mode/sub-game within V3) — #utdp spoilers

Danganronpa Zero (light novels) — #dr0 spoilers

Danganronpa IF light novel — #drif spoilers

Ultra Despair Hagakure light novel  — #udh spoilers

Danganronpa Kirigiri light novels — #drk spoilers

Danganronpa Togami light novels  — #drt spoilers

Danganronpa S: Ultimate Summer Camp (game) — #drs spoilers

2) I reblog (and rarely even do original posts of) A LOOOOT of fan art here, but I make it a point to only share things either posted by the original artist OR which are shared with the permission of the artist. I had it impressed upon me earlier in my Tumblr career that some artists legitimately don’t want their stuff shared on other sites without permission, and I try to always respect that. (And yes, I realize that just saying “permission obtained from the artist” or something is HARDLY a foolproof system. We’re on the honor system here; we can only assume such disclaimers are honest.) If you catch me sharing art that is copied or posted by someone other than the artist without any expressed permission, please let me know — I’ll take it down! 

3) I’ll almost always respond to asks submitted to me, but I’m sorry if it takes a while. I’m typically WAAAAY behind on such things. Sometimes it takes me a few days or even, rarely, weeks. Sometimes I just don’t know what to say at first. But sometimes I’ll respond ASAP because the ask is easy to answer or just ignites a bunch of thoughts within me. Or on rare occasions I’ll, uh, never answer because I couldn’t think of anything to really say (sorry?) or because the ask is basically just a troll. 

4) I sometimes post asks/commentary that are very critical of certain characters as people (as in, not criticizing them as fictional characters or how they were written; criticizing their behavior as good/bad people). If you don’t like seeing your faves harshed on, I tag those criticism/negativity-centric posts for easy blocking, too! So feel free to block tags like #anti-kokichi ouma or #anti-hiyoko saionji or whomever. (But let’s be honest; Those are the two most common ones.) 

5) This Tumblr originated as a Naegiri-focused one, actually. That’s not something that comes up too terribly often these days, but.. you can definitely still expect me to heap extra attention on any Naegiri-centric content I come across (or, in rare instances, create myself). :) So... that’s just a heads-up.  6) If you came across this user handle elsewhere and are wondering if this blog is run by the same person, I can only confirm that the Hopey McHope on AO3 and the HopeyMcHope on FF.net are, in fact, me. Anyone else you see by this name might be the same person as me, or it might not. I guess you should just ask me here.

7) If I blocked you... I probably assumed you’re a bot. If you don’t have ANY posts or ANY reblogs or ANY profile pic or ANY heading wallpaper? I have to assume you’re a bot; it’s a problem around here. If you’re not a bot, please do something, anything to make your account look like a real person’s. Say two words on your blog, change your blog title to be ANYTHING else, give yourself a profile pic or even a header image that ISN’T the default... just, anything.