#FORGOT I NEVER POSTED THIS THESE ARE LIKE A MONTH OLD
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theonottsbxtch · 7 hours ago
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I LOVED YOU FIRST | FC43
an: guys i’m so sorry for the atrocities i’m about to cause by posting this, i’m especially tagging @obxstiles to make sure they don’t miss it and that they cry muahaha there MAY be a part two to this
summary: for as long as she’s remembered she’s loved franco, wether those feelings were ever reciprocated she doesn’t know.
wc: 4.4k
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She remembered the sound of wheels against gravel. Even as a kid, Franco was fast—kicking up dust and stones as he went, all edges and adrenaline. They grew up on the same street, a road that was more dust than pavement, cutting through a small town nobody had ever heard of, deep in the countryside of Argentina. Back then, he raced down that road on a beat-up go-kart that rattled and threatened to fall apart with every turn. But he didn’t care. Even at eight years old, Franco could talk of nothing but cars and speed and the shimmering, impossible promise of a life far from here.
She was the one who stood at the end of the road, cheering him on as he came barreling toward her, heart in her throat every time he cut it too close. She told herself that’s just what friends did—waited around to see the other one make it back in one piece. But there was more to it, even then. She’d never told him, of course. Franco had always been too focused on the next race, the next finish line, to notice much about her that wasn’t familiar. It was easier that way. They were friends. That was enough.
Years passed, and with them, his childhood kart became a racing simulator, then an actual car, then a series of wins that only proved what she’d always known—that Franco was going somewhere.
Last year, his parents sold their house so he could go further, could reach another level she couldn’t quite see. He moved in with her and her family when he wasn’t racing, and for a few months, it was as if they were kids again, laughing late at night, plotting his future as he spilled out every dream he’d ever had. That was the year she started imagining he might finally see her the way she saw him.
But he didn’t.
Instead, Franco saw everything she wasn’t: the girl from another world, polished and magnetic, with a face and laugh that gleamed like the trophies he’d already started to collect. She caught him, snared him in a way that didn’t even seem real.
It was this girl—her name slipped off his tongue so easily when he let it—who went to the big events with him, who stood beside him when photographers crowded around after his races, a reminder that he’d already begun to belong somewhere else. She wanted to hate her, this stranger who was everything she wasn’t, but what good would it do?
It was easy to tell herself she was Franco’s friend. His best friend. The one who’d been there since the beginning, the one who stayed up with him on those late nights when all his dreams felt heavy enough to drown him. She’d learned to wear it like armour—the friend, the constant, the steady hand on his shoulder when his voice cracked and his confidence faltered.
No one else knew the small things about him, the things that made him human. Like how he had a superstition about not putting on his helmet until the very last second before a race. Or that his favorite thing in the world was the sound of tires on wet pavement, a soft hiss of rain and speed. Or that he used to dream of buying back the house his parents sold and giving them something better.
The nights she couldn’t sleep, she’d replay those memories to herself, like scenes from a film she’d seen too many times. They were pieces of a person she’d built up in her mind so completely, so painstakingly, that she sometimes forgot he wasn’t hers. Not really.
Now, Franco was leaving again, but this time it was different. The call had come last night, and she’d been there when he answered it, watching the way his face shifted, lit up with something she hadn’t seen since they were kids. He’d been invited to join a Formula 1 team—a chance to race against the best, a dream finally realised.
And she’d been the first person he told. “I’m in,” Franco had whispered to her after he hung up, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “I’m actually in.”
He’d pulled her into a hug, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself believe this moment was for her too—that she was a part of the dream. But when he finally let go, she could already feel him slipping away, his mind racing miles ahead, far beyond anything she could reach.
And now here they were, standing on the same dusty road they’d grown up on, only this time the road was empty. She could almost see his silhouette against the horizon, an outline that belonged to no one, not even her.
“So… this is it, huh?” she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets. She knew this was her job now: to be strong, supportive, even as she felt her chest tightening with everything she’d left unsaid.
Franco glanced over at her and smiled, that careless, easy grin she’d fallen in love with a thousand times. “Yeah. This is it.”
There was a part of her that wanted to say something, to tell him what it felt like to lose him, to have spent all these years beside him only to watch him walk away. But she didn’t, couldn’t. Because he needed her to be his friend, his rock. And that’s exactly what she would be, until the moment he disappeared from sight.
“You’ll be amazing out there,” she said softly, swallowing hard against the ache in her throat.
“Thanks,” Franco replied, his gaze drifting to the horizon, to whatever was waiting for him. He didn’t see her watching him, didn’t notice the way she tried to memorise every detail of his face, the way she gripped the fabric of her jacket so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Because that’s what she was: the person who stayed behind, the person who would cheer for him no matter how far he went, even if it took him far beyond her reach.
His first race was in Monza.
And Franco had made sure she’d be there.
The roar of engines echoed across Monza, the air thick with the metallic scent of fuel and adrenaline. She stood just outside the paddock, watching the mechanics scurry between cars, drivers in their fireproof suits weaving through a sea of engineers and cameras. It was Franco’s first Formula 1 race, the one he’d been chasing since the days they’d spent on that dusty street back home. He’d called her a week ago, saying he’d arranged for her ticket, that she had to be there, that it wouldn’t feel right without her.
She glanced down at her pass, fumbling with it between her fingers, her eyes darting over the crowds, wondering if she’d see him. But instead, she saw her—Franco’s girlfriend, standing just a few paces away, a beacon in the busy paddock with her polished, perfect smile.
She thought about turning around, slipping into the crowd where she could cheer Franco on from a distance, as she’d always done. But then Franco’s girlfriend caught her eye, waved her over with an easy, welcoming smile, and suddenly it was too late.
“Hi! You’re Franco’s best friend, no?” she said brightly, as if she’d been waiting for this meeting. “Franco’s told me all about you.”
She managed a smile, trying not to let her surprise show. “Nice to meet you,” she replied, her voice steady but her heart churning. This girl looked so effortlessly perfect—too perfect, really. She wanted to find something in her to resent, a crack, a flaw, some hint that would make her presence easier to bear. But the girl’s smile was warm, even gentle, and there wasn’t a hint of cruelty behind her eyes.
“You know,” she continued, turning to look at the track where the cars were being readied. “Franco always talks about how you’ve been there from the start. He says he wouldn’t be here without you.”
It was a sentiment she’d waited years to hear, but hearing it now, coming from someone else, made it feel empty, hollow. She nodded politely. “He’s worked so hard for this. I just… wanted to support him however I could.”
The girl looked at her, a spark of admiration in her eyes. “That’s really special. I think it means a lot to him, having someone who’s known him for so long.” She hesitated, her fingers twisting a ring on her hand. “I think he’s planning to introduce me to his family soon.”
A prickle of something sharp and painful settled in her chest. She managed to keep her face composed, even as the words sank in. “That’s great,” she said, injecting her voice with encouragement. “That sounds really important to him.”
The girl smiled, her gaze drifting as if she could see the future taking shape right in front of her. “Yeah… he said he wanted to wait until we’d been together for a year. He’s so thoughtful like that, you know? He really wants things to be right before introducing me to his family.” She looked at her, a touch of gratitude in her expression. “I think he got that from you—from seeing how much his family means to you.”
It was a kind thing to say, too kind. She wanted to hate her for it, but she couldn’t. There was nothing false about the way this girl looked at her, no jealousy or possessiveness. She was just… nice. The kind of nice that made her ache with the unfairness of it all, because it made it impossible to hate her, even though she desperately wanted to.
“Well, his family will love you,” she said, meaning it even as the words felt like they were tearing something fragile inside her. “He deserves to be happy.”
The girl gave her a soft, almost sympathetic smile, a smile that made her wonder if maybe she already knew—if she could see right through her, if she understood the look in her eyes, the one she tried so hard to hide.
As the engines started up in the distance, the girl reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” she said, her voice warm. “For being there for him, for being his friend. I can tell he’s lucky to have you in his life.”
She returned the smile, feeling a heaviness settle deep within her. Franco was lucky, that was true—but not in the way she’d once dreamed he might be. He had everything now: the career, the future, the love of a woman who deserved him in ways she never could.
And as the cars roared to life on the track, she stood there beside his girlfriend, feeling like a silent ghost on the edges of his new world. She would cheer for him, just as she always had, but now she knew exactly where she stood—at a distance, a quiet fixture in his past, cheering him on from the shadows as he sped toward a future that had no place for her.
The race had ended hours ago, and the hotel was hushed, the lights dimmed in the halls. She was alone in her room, her suitcase half-packed, clothes folded neatly on the bed. She’d changed her flight back to Argentina; she would be gone by morning.
The evening had been a whirlwind—Franco finishing in P12 on his debut race, his crew and his girlfriend embracing him, his face beaming in a way she’d only ever dreamed of seeing up close. She’d stood in the background, clapping politely, just another face in the crowd, happy for him but feeling her heart splinter with each cheer.
A quiet knock broke her thoughts. She looked up, heart catching in her throat. Franco was standing in the doorway, his face lit with a warm smile.
“Hey,” he said, stepping inside, his hands in his pockets. “I was hoping you’d still be up.”
“Yeah, just… packing,” she murmured, glancing at the clothes on her bed. “I’ve got an early flight back.”
He frowned, like he hadn’t expected her to be leaving so soon. “I thought you’d stay a bit longer,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “It meant a lot to me that you were here, you know. I’m not sure I could have done it without you.”
She swallowed, trying to muster up a smile. “I’m proud of you, Fran. Really. You deserve all of this.”
He gave a modest shrug, his usual humility shining through. “It’s crazy, right? Like, it still doesn’t feel real.”
She nodded, unsure of what to say next, her hands clenching as she watched him, the words fighting to break free. But before she could speak, he went on, his face lighting up with excitement.
“Oh—and I wanted to tell you. Over the summer break, I’m planning to bring my girlfriend—” he gestured to the wall, where his girlfriend was probably just sitting in their shared room—“back to Argentina. She’s going to meet my family. I think they’ll love her.”
The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt herself unraveling, her heart breaking open. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Why her?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Franco blinked, looking at her, startled. “What do you mean?”
“Why her, Franco?” She repeated, her voice trembling, louder this time. “Why not me? What is it about me that you don’t find appealing? Am I too loud? Too… different? Do I not fit into your world somehow?” Her voice cracked, the weight of her words finally spilling out. “What is it about me that you don’t love, that you love about her?”
For a moment, he just stared, taken aback, as if he was seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. But his eyes were filled with confusion, like he was trying to make sense of what she was saying.
“Wait—” he started, his voice halting, uncertain. “I… I didn’t know you felt—”
She cut him off, her voice fierce, raw. “I loved you first, Franco.”
He went silent, the words settling between them like stones in water, sinking deeper and deeper.
“What?” he whispered, his voice almost as quiet as hers had been.
“I loved you first,” she repeated, her voice shaking. She could feel the tears gathering, but she didn’t want to cry, not now, not here. “Since we were kids, since you were that crazy kid racing down dirt roads, I loved you. I’ve been there every step, every race, every victory, every failure. I was the one who held your dreams when they felt too heavy to carry. I loved you first.”
She watched him, waiting, hoping for some sign of understanding, some glimmer of the love she’d imagined so many times. But his eyes were wide with shock, his face torn between pity and discomfort.
He shook his head slowly, the words seeming to catch in his throat before he finally managed to say them. “But… I love her.”
The words were a knife, sharp and relentless, cutting through the last fragments of hope she’d held on to.
She let out a hollow, broken laugh, her vision blurring as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you do.” She took a shaky breath, her voice trembling with a rawness she couldn’t contain. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of years pressing down between them. She could see the guilt etched into his expression, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something to make it better. But there was nothing he could say—nothing that could change the reality that he had chosen someone else, someone who wasn’t her.
“I never meant to… I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but she stepped back, her arms wrapping around herself protectively.
“It’s fine,” she said, forcing the words out, feeling them scrape against her throat. “I… I just needed you to know. I needed you to know that I was here, that I’ve always been here. But now…” She trailed off, her voice breaking, the words she’d held for so long finally running dry.
She looked at him one last time, memorising the shape of his face, the boy she had loved and lost long before he ever realised. Then sat back down on the floor and continued packing, folding each piece of clothing and putting it away in silence, each one a silent goodbye.
When she noticed he still hadn’t left, that he was just watching him, she looked up at him. “I hope she makes you happy, Franco,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Really. I hope she gives you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”
She looked back down not wanting to catch Franco’s look of pity and closed her suitcase as he walked out of her room.
Walking out of her life for what felt like forever.
It was the peak of summer, the air heavy with heat and the scents of wildflowers and sun-baked earth drifting through the open kitchen window. She was sitting at the table, picking absently at a bowl of sliced fruit, half-listening as her mother hummed while tidying up, when her mother paused and gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher.
“I almost forgot to mention,” her mother said, wiping her hands on a towel, “Franco’s coming back to town soon. Said he’ll be here next week with his girlfriend, so they can meet his family.”
She looked down, letting the words sink in, feeling a familiar tightness bloom in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to Franco in weeks. Not since that night in Monza. Not since she’d finally let herself say all the things she’d bottled up for years, only to walk away feeling like she’d left a part of herself behind.
“Oh,” she murmured, keeping her tone as light as she could. “That’s… that’s good. His parents will be thrilled to meet her.”
Her mother looked at her carefully, her gaze soft but probing, as if she could sense the ache that lingered beneath her daughter’s casual words. “I thought maybe you’d be excited too,” her mother ventured, her voice gentle. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.”
She forced a small smile, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with her napkin. “Actually, I was thinking about going to Buenos Aires for a bit. Just a week or two with Tía Blanca. I’ve been meaning to go see her.”
Her mother tilted her head, her expression somewhere between sympathy and exasperation. “You can’t keep running from this, mi amor,” she said, her voice tender but firm.
Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She knew her mother was right; every time she thought about seeing Franco, the old wound seemed to ache again, still raw, still fresh, no matter how many miles or weeks lay between them. But she wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not when the sight of him with someone else would only reopen everything she’d been trying so hard to let go of.
“I know I can’t keep running,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper, her fingers twisting the napkin in her lap. “But I can now. And I can cope with that.”
Her mother sighed softly, reaching out to place a warm hand over hers. “Mi amor, one day, you’re going to have to stop protecting yourself from the things that hurt you. It’s the only way to truly move forward.”
She nodded, her throat tight, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. She knew her mother was right. But all she could think of was that moment in Monza, the echo of Franco’s words—But I love her. Words that still stung like salt on an open wound, even now.
“Maybe one day,” she whispered, more to herself than to her mother. But for now, Buenos Aires felt like the safest place to be—far from the memories, far from the impossible hope she still carried in her heart.
Her mother squeezed her hand gently before letting go, her silence filled with understanding. “Then go,” she said, with a small, knowing smile. “But you’ll know when it’s time to come home.”
And as she sat there, her heart heavy with everything she couldn’t say, she only hoped her mother was right.
A few days later, everything was sorted and she was ready to go to her aunt’s place.
She swung her bag over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she stepped out of the house, the warm morning sun casting long shadows across the familiar dirt road. She was just two steps away from the car when she spotted it—Franco’s car, parked at the edge of the drive.
Her heart lurched, her mind scrambling, and she muttered under her breath, “No, no, no… please, not now.” She moved quickly toward her own car, fumbling for her keys as if speed alone could make her invisible. But before she could open the door, she heard his voice behind her.
“Oye, there you are!” he called, a wide, relieved smile on his face as he jogged over, his voice bright with the kind of joy she hadn’t heard from him in years. “I was hoping I’d run into you before you left. It’s been too long.”
She barely managed to keep her face neutral, clutching her bag as if it could shield her. “Yeah, well, I’ve got to get on the road. Don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” she said, opening the boot to toss her bag inside. She avoided looking at him, focusing on the small tasks—closing the boot, brushing off her hands, reaching for the door.
He took a step closer, his hand resting on the car door as if to keep her from leaving. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his tone softening. “You… you didn’t answer my calls after Monza. I didn’t know if… I just wanted to see you.”
She swallowed hard, glancing away as she forced herself to stay calm, the last words she wanted to hear sitting heavy between them. “That’s great, Franco,” she said, barely meeting his gaze, her words quick and mechanical. “But I really should get going.”
“Wait—” He looked at her, his expression slipping from surprise to concern. “Can we talk? Please?”
But she was already climbing into the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she turned the ignition. She couldn’t bear to stay, couldn’t bear to let him see her break again. “Take care, Franco,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed the door.
Before he could say another word, she pulled out, the tires kicking up dust as she drove away. In the rearview mirror, she saw him standing in the drive, watching her go, his face a mix of confusion and something close to sadness. She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat as she focused on the road ahead.
But the further she drove, the harder it became to ignore the weight of all the memories tied to each familiar street and turn. Every signpost, every curve of the road reminded her of him—their childhood spent racing bikes and kicking up dust, lazy afternoons wandering these streets, dreaming of the future he was now living.
Tears blurred her vision as she drove, the memories rushing in like floodwaters, filling her mind with images she’d tried so hard to push aside: Franco at fourteen, laughing as he beat her in yet another race down the hill; Franco, younger still, sharing a quiet moment in the field just beyond town, his eyes bright with the dreams they’d both carried.
She wiped at her eyes, her heart aching as each memory pulled her further into the past, a past where they’d been inseparable, a past where she hadn’t yet realised what loving him truly meant. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his presence beside her, as if he were still the boy she’d known, before life had pulled them down different paths.
By the time she reached her aunt’s building in Buenos Aires, the weight of the drive had started to lift, the city’s pulse a welcome distraction from the quiet countryside. She parked and took a moment to gather herself, feeling the ache from earlier settle into something softer, something that no longer felt as urgent or raw.
Just as she opened the car door, a familiar voice called out.
“¡Mira! Is that really you?”
She looked up, startled, and felt her heart lift slightly. Standing by the curb was Angelo, an old friend from summers in the city. He had the same easy smile, his hair a little longer, his build a little broader, but his presence felt exactly as she remembered—warm and solid.
“Angelo!” She smiled, the weight on her shoulders easing just a little more.
He walked over, giving her a friendly hug before reaching into the car to help with her bag. “Let me help. You’re here for a visit?”
“Just two weeks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she glanced up at the familiar apartment building, a place that held a lifetime of summers, laughter, and memories untouched by the pain she’d left behind.
“Well, then,” he said, grinning as he hefted her bag easily, “we’ve got time to catch up.” His tone was light, but there was something else in his eyes, a quiet warmth that made her feel unexpectedly hopeful.
She followed him up the steps, comforted by his familiarity and the steady, unhurried way he moved, like he knew every corner of this building as well as she did. As they reached her aunt’s door, she felt her pulse slow, steadied by his presence.
The door opened before they could knock, her aunt’s familiar face breaking into a radiant smile. “There you are, mi niña!” She hugged her tightly, then turned to Angelo with a knowing smile. “And look who brought you all the way to the door! Angelo, you’re a sweetheart.”
He grinned, shrugging. “Anything for your family, señora.”
They all laughed, and for the first time in months, she felt a genuine ease settle over her, as if she’d left more than just a town behind—she’d left the weight of everything she’d been carrying.
As she glanced between her aunt and Angelo, the ache that had gripped her chest all day faded. The streets of Buenos Aires were bright outside the door, warm and humming with life. She breathed it in, feeling herself begin to let go of everything that had haunted her on that long drive.
Because maybe now that she was here, she could forget Franco.
to be continued…?
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ihatethisstuf · 3 days ago
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This is a scheduled post (From, November 2nd, 2024, It's supposed to be posted November 24th, but Idrk how to schedule, so we just pray it works). Trigger warning for (in a positive connotation) self harm (its bit graphic) and mention of suicide. If you were mentioned, but those are a trigger for you, skip to the part you were mentioned (it'll be mentioned in grey), do not force yourself to go through it.
I know this is a rp blog. But, everyone who interacted, roleplayed with, damn simply reblogging it, had an huge impact on this achievement.
On November, 24th of 2023, I cutted myself. It took me to the ER. Thankfully, I did not get stitches, but it did leave a scar, a scar I thought would haunt me forever.
Spoiler: It didn't.
I remember the doctor asking me if I had suicidal thoughts or ever attempted it, and I knew that depending on my answer, it could take me to a psychiatric unit; I didn't want that. I didn't want the fear of explaining it to family or friends. So I lied, I lied, putting in mind that from then on, I'd commit to that never ever happening again. And here I am. 1 year free. And tell you something, these 2 months were hell, but every notification, every interaction, it was a daily motivation: "I need to finish that arc," "I could make more posts like it", so I can only say thank you and sorry if I sounded desperate sometimes, it felt like here was my only escape
Part of my young 5-year-old me, who dreamed of being themselves, without fear, was healed by this blog; I can thankfully be the EVIL VILLAIN MUAHAHAHA, and know that it's not that bad, know that liking villains does not make me a bad person, it does not mean I'm some sort of psychopath as some other kids would tell me.
Honestly, I completely understand if these blogs mods don't read it, bc it might be triggering, but I'll mention, just in case.
@one-sixer-please (I love interacting with your blog, is always fun, and it truly motivated me in my shittiest days)
@askdrunkbillcipher (Bruhh, your account is like the funniest I've ever interacted with, I don't even know what to say, just, thank you.)
@theaxolotl-god (You were one of the first accs I've ever interacted with, and truly helped me to keep going)
@river-nonbinary-billcipherfan (I've learned so much from your acc, and omg, thank you. Thank you for existing and being who you are)
@17ghostsinatrenchcoat (You seem such a genuinely nice person irl, I am really proud of you :])
@trickstertriangle (I wanna hug you/p, I love interacting with your blog and I truly hope the best for you.)
@bills-library (You were my inspiration to start this blog)
@sillycato (I love you so much/p you deserve thd world, omg infinite hugs and presents for you, you are an angel, this Lucas btw, just if you don't know lol)
@pandagobrr (I would always smile at your notifications, thank you ^^)
@ever-growing-system (I was research anon, and y'all truly helped me to figure out more of myself and my triggers, thank you :,])
If you're mentioned here, thank you so much for making this app a place that I could run to in my darkest days.
And if you're not mentioned here, there's two possible answers
1st- I forgot you and I'm sosososo sorry😭
2nd- Idrk you or dont interact much, but anyways, thank you for existing, breathing, getting out of bed, I'm so fucking proud of you. (Even who was mentioned, this is for you too)
I was always so scared that people wouldn't like me and that if I said one little thing wrong I was a terrible person, and I learned so much in this one year, that I finally can say, I'm proud of myself. I'm proud of going the lengths I went. There is lots to work on myself, I know there is, but one step at a time and maybe, one day, I might get there. But for now, I'll attempt into just not triggering myself.
-Lucas/Hyper
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sesmifi · 11 months ago
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deeply unserious set of images made in ten minutes
[original post]
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cozylittleartblog · 1 year ago
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i come in three exciting Fashion Flavors
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surreal-duck · 4 months ago
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live drama adaptations part 2 (prev)
cast reveal and girls movie night 🔥
#i actually had the first three pages done for like. months now. and then i just forgot 🧍‍♂️#theres one more part to this but as to when ill finish that. haha#duck scribbles#minicomic tag#midoyuzu#and a bit of tomohaji on the side#doodles#enstars#midori takamine#hajime shino#yuzuru fushimi#tori himemiya#ibara saegusa#this is. a lot better quality than the first initial one amsdkjgshdgsmd i kindaa wanna redo it but its already a multiple part one i dont#think ill do that to myself rn akjdgskjwkjgjkd#its been 8 months i doubt anyone would remember the initial one but its ok u dont have to read it#i completely made up this manga and am now a little sad its not a thing that exists#i wish haruno was a real character i could post mangacaps of#thought too hard about it and there isnt any way to fit it into here but there is also a fourth character harunos childhood gyaru friend#also in love w her. she ends up having some sort of alliance with naoto but obviously its in vain too but its all chill#manga ends with haruno opening her dream cafe and asahi later joins her there after training a new team to take care of their old one#naoto becomes a regular there also w his new bf :] happy ending !!!#wow i have drawn Way too much lately. forgive me for such behavior ill probably be posting a lot less from here on out askjdgksjhgs#needed the food for when im away from my laptop for a week....#guess ill never get to finish that other lil comic i had planned for that sleepover drawing i made back during rarepair week </3#does anyone actually read these anyhow. i talk too much maybe
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forbiddentaako · 20 days ago
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lute makes this immediately after returning to heaven post finale
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cassandragemini · 9 months ago
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ursa major / ursa minor 🌙
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icewindandboringhorror · 1 month ago
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I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently
#facebook always does that 'here's a post from this day 8 years ago' thing. and I see old comments interacting#with people and it's so like.. OOOOO~~ where are they now?? what's going on? how much have they changed as people?#how much are they the same? this is fascinating. i should contact them!!' but then it's like... take that to it's logical conclusion though#you would contact them and then IF they even responded it would take you 80 years to respond and then they would#think there was something wrong or that you were trying to be insulting or something. To contact anyone I need to include an 85 page#disclaimer of all of my social issues & mental illness things. 'If i take 3 weeks to reply I promise it has nothing to do with u' etc lol#THIS is why more people need to be into phone calls/voice calls/some form of audio real time communication/etc.#I think one of the main things that's hard about messaging through text for me is it's so unscheduled and open ended#(plus it takes forever if you're talking about anything in detail and gets very long very quickly)#because like you can send a message and then just get a reply whenever. and then you're expected to reply back whenever#so it's like you never know when the response will come or when a new obligation to reply can come up? so it's like this sudden thing with#no outline?? if that makes sense. whereas a phone call is very like 'hello let's schedule a call from 10am - 2pm on thursday'. And you know#EXACTLY when the interaction will start and EXACTLY when it will end and you can plan around it in your schedule easily.#I have the reverse thing of a lot of people (how people don't pick up phone calls/hate calls/only text)#I would literally talk on the phone with a stranger. I would have a discord voice chat with someone I barely know.#if someone I hardly even remember from elementary school asked to have a voice call with me out of nowhere I would do it.#but if a stranger MESSAGED me?? or someone I barely know sent me a TEXT or something?? I will never reply probably#It's just too vague and weird. and you can't read voice tone over text. and the interaction could last forever with no clear end#point and etc. etc. But a call is like. set. established. clear boundaries. you can read the flow of conversation better. rapport. etc. etc#I get that I guess people feel more anonymous or distanced over text?? but you can have fake phone numbers on the computer. or do like disc#rd calls. or zoom without a camera or etc. etc. Also the distance that's present in text is BAD distance because it just means that tone is#not conveyed properly and you will never truly get a sense of the person's conversational vibe or mannerisms or how well you really click.#ANYWAY ghgjh...... I'm so so so interested in concepts of like.. How did that one kid I used to talk to in elementary school#but then they moved away in 5th grade - how did they end up? what are they doing now?? etc. etc. Like despite the severe social anhedonia#and general lack of connection with others I'm just really fascinated in like.. idk. the human development of it all and like#the concept of how we're actually a million different people through the course of our lives ever evolving in different iterations and etc.#PLUS again. i love nostalgia. sometimes old peple you know might remember a shared memory or can tell you about something you forgot#or etc. like it's SUCH A COOL THING in CONCEPT but I am too socially inept generally speaking lol. which people I still talk to today are#familiar with my 'phone call once every few months' communication style. but strangers would just be like... wtf. And I don't blame them#Sure I literally cannot change the physical health + brain issues i have - but also I know enough to not put others through that lol
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flowey-apologist · 1 month ago
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I missed them
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dawnthefluffyduck · 4 months ago
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Sunday doodles
#you ever just *puts feet on the wall*#or sit upside down off the side of your bed#i saw a post earlier this week I've been trying to find about fearing god#i read it but didn't have time to share my thoughts and i forgot to save it to my drafts so i lost it#anyway they talked about fearing god in service today#the overlap of related events like this scares me all the time#like... i know this stuff just happens and they had this sermon planned for months and it's coincidental#''but what if god is actually real and this is him trying to talk to me? what if he's trying to move me back on track?''#that's something i can't help but think#i'm starting to think I'll never know what is real and whether there's a god and if i really am setting myself up to burn in hell#i have to make a choice whether to leave my friends and hide who I am and go back to the church#or be myself and enjoy my time alive knowing what could be waiting for me when I go#I know that sounds extremely dramatic but it's something I think about a lot#it's one thing for someone to have never gotten to known God#but some say that the one unforgivable sin - the only thing that can keep you out of heaven forever...#...is knowing god and accepting him in your heart but then turning your back on him#I've done those rituals; been baptized and taken communion and said the famous prayer#if that unforgivable sin is true then I guess i've already made my choice; there really is no going back for me haha#damn right that god is scary lol#not tagging the game because I monolouged too much lmao#doodles#sunday doodles#depressing sunday doodle posts have arrived once again#dw im chilling today just lost in thought#was able to put in pto so i get the day to reflect on the very important things 21 year olds think about#things like ''what could've been'' and ''how do i want to draw my next fluffy boy''
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xiewho · 8 months ago
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hi guys please send me art reqs so i have something to draw while im in the car for a few millennia
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todayisafridaynight · 1 year ago
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still obsessed with how whenever you look up nakai you just get adachi front and center instead of arakawa or like. anyone he's actually played
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jefferythejelly · 1 year ago
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:D
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braceletofteeth · 1 year ago
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tag someone you want to know and/or some of your besties.
I was tagged by @fourth-quartet 😊 Thank you!!
favourite colour: Gray but I'm currently in a brown phase
last song: I've got recently reacquainted with Beginner by AKB48 😄
youtube
last series: The Kidnapping Day. It was a lot more wholesome than the name suggests.
last movie: Saw X (surprisingly also a lot more wholesome than you'd expect????)
sweet/savoury/spicy: Sweet :3
currently watching:
Koisenu Futari
Chains of Heart
The Golden Girls (season 1)
Love in the Air (2nd rewatch)
other stuff I watched this year: Not listing all of it here (I've never watched so much stuff as I did in 2023), but I'll mention the ones that I enjoyed watching the most from each month so far (*not including rewatches):
JAN: Wednesday
FEB: GAP
MAR: Not Me
APR: Tick, Tick... Boom!
MAY: Utsukushii Kare
JUN: Tale of the Nine-Tailed 1938
JUL: Takin' Over The Asylum
AUG: Marry My Dead Body
SEP: Utsukushii Kare: Eternal
OCT: The Sandman
shows I dropped this year/didn't finish: I barely remember the ones I watched till the very end 🤡 But ok, let me see...
Eve (dropped after one episode; Rich People and their Rich People Problems™, I think was the reason)
A few straight GMMTV shows that I didn't really catch the name (I. Well. I just. I just couldn't make myself give a fuck, ok 😔)
+ Currently deliberating whether or not I should drop Chains of Heart. All the subtitles I've found are lacking in terms of coherence, and the story itself is already not the most straightforward, so I can only hope I'm understanding what's going on at all? 😀 And I'm also not feeling the main couple from either the present nor the past (? I suspect they are the same (but I may never know))... HOWEVER, I like the acting of the main, and the Thai scenario that is not Bangkok for once. That's always refreshing. And sometimes the cinematography is pretty too... Decisions, decisions...
currently listening to: Back for More by TXT & Anitta (I went after the link for it and distractedly searched for "banger" instead of the title 😆)
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currently reading: Codename Villanelle (it's a small book but I'm. ..struggle)
current obsession: I'm not obsessing over anything at the moment 😟☹😫 Have been too busy with mundane adult life problems (therefore, as you can imagine, I'm just about going up the walls here :))
tagging: @eatprayworm @thisautistic @hyp-no-tic @visualtaehyun hi 👋
#tag game#it's one of those weeks when I feel like my old acquaintances might be sick of me already#SO I tagged some people I think might be really cool but haven't directly approached yet#you know. for maximum anxiety#I've lost many songs over the years (it's never safe to have only one copy of them; thankfully I can afford more now)#the first time I found Beginner (as a pre-teen) I just downloaded it randomly listened to it and liked it so much I decided to keep it??#oh to be young and not care about stuff like viruses or managing your time#at some point while writing this post I finished watching Ko¡senu Fut@ri#10/10 no notes#(lies. there are notes. dozens and dozens of reblogs just waiting for me to spread them all over your dashboards in the near future)#tick tick boom was quite nice... for a musical#(not a fan of musicals so to have one on my list is. wild)#already four months since the Lee brothers left me 😪#and I haven't heard a word about LDW's new drama in MONTHS. actively gnawing the bars of my cage rn#OH OH WAIT I ALMOST FORGOT#SPECIAL MENTION TO <SUMMER STRIKE> IN MAY#if my other option wasn't Utsukush¡i fricking K@re I wouldn't even hesitate. but. it was#and everyone knows I'm not normal about this one 😀🙂#if anyone wants to advocate in favor of Ch@ins of Heart. please. I'm all ears. is it worth it?#uhh. I'm not gonna disclose much but it's true I'm under a lot of stress lately. there is a lot going on right now.#I might not be able to watch new shows/be around tumblr while I (try to) sort my shit out#just a quick heads up 👍
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soft-serve-soymilk · 9 months ago
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YOOOO IT’S FREE!!!! 😭🩵🩵🩵
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r0sedevil · 2 years ago
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fucker
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