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craske · 2 years ago
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making and posting art has been getting more and more difficult
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glamourscat · 1 month ago
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heeeeeeeeeeeeeey^^
welcome in the KnB fandom
do you have any literally ANY Daiki headcanons?
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a/n: it's a mix between random hcs and romantic ones. i didn't had enough to make two posts so i combined them. i hope it's ok :) ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
He’s got that “I’m not saying I love you, but I show you” vibe. He’s not great with words, his actions are everything. It’s all about those little moments of softness that catch you off guard.
The definition of "laid-back but intense”. He’s the kind of guy who’ll act all lazy and unbothered but the second he’s in his element he goes hard. 
When he’s with someone he likes, it’s pretty much the same. He can be all chill one second, but if he sees something he doesn’t like or someone giving you trouble? Instant switch to protective mode.
Worst person ever at being subtle, especially if he has a crush. He’s terrible at hiding it. He’ll act like he’s not into you, but you’ll catch him staring. His face is red, and when you call him out on it, he’ll either deny it with a lazy shrug or just say “Shut up” in that grumpy, low-key flirty way of his. He’s just not great at pretending he doesn’t care when he does.
He is so caring but in his own “atypical” way. His way of showing love is not huge nor dramatic (looking at you Kise). He won’t write you love letters or surprise you with roses, but if you’re tired or stressed, he’ll show up with your favorite food. He’ll toss you the bag with a “Here. Eat it. You look dead.” But lowkey, he just wants you to be okay. (and maybe he will sneak a kiss or two.)
Number one tease. Not in a mean-spirited way. He’ll poke fun at you, his friends. But especially when you get flustered or catch you off guard with a random comment about how “cute” you look when you’re mad at him. He’s the type who’ll lightly ruffle your hair or drag you by the hand, claiming it's because you’re "too slow" but secretly, it’s because he loves having you around.
He strikes me as the jealous type. He acts like he doesn’t care, but then here he is sulking like a puppy. Eyes rolling, slowly moving closer to you. He won’t say anything tho, his eyes speak for him. King of side eye. 
LOVESSS physical touch. Not necessarily overly into pda, but people will know you are with him. He has to be touching you in some way all of the time. Resting a hand on your back, lightly holding your hand while walking, leaning his arm around your shoulders when you’re chilling. He’s not overly clingy, but he enjoys having that physical closeness with you. He’s the type to rest his head on your shoulder after a long day, totally content just being near you.
He is competitive, his competitive spirit comes out at the most random times. Like you two are cooking together and all of the sudden it’s a race to see who can cut and chop more things under a certain amount of time. If he does lose however, be ready because he will complain about it for hours, but it's in the funniest, most dramatic way. 
Gives me the vibes of someone who casual flirt, before and during the relationship. “You look good today” or “I swear, you keep getting more attractive” and he is saying so in the most nonchalant way, straight face ever. Because for him it's just a fact. 
© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)
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sungbeam · 6 months ago
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𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞
demon!ji changmin x reader (no pronouns used, but original fic was f!reader)
love. — what is love if not your steady heartbeat in his ear when he thinks you should be afraid?
4.7k words, established relationship, demon/supernatural creatures au, mild angst, very minor humor, bit of fluff?, mentions of blood, so much intimacy (skinship, cheek/stomach kisses), mentions of insecurities, swearing, use of pet names (love, sweetheart)
read night terrors / peruse the collection post
a/n: this lowkey just became a character study of demon changmin
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THERE WEREN'T MANY INSTANCES where you were afraid for Changmin, nor were there many instances where you were afraid of him. You suspected that he strived to avoid either of said instances, especially regarding the latter. After all the two of you had experienced with one another, it seemed important to him that you could trust him and were not scared. 
It was difficult for him to fully accept that he did not frighten you in some way. Part of that reason, you guessed, was simply his awareness of how others viewed his species.
What was he but a mortal's night terror, a creature of evil?
To him, you should have been sleeping with a stake beneath your pillow—or rather, you shouldn't have had enough trust to sleep next to him at all. 
But several months under your relationship's belt was beginning to ease his concerns. The long drives up and down the state, chasing his strange assignments for work, had slowly become something he could look forward to. Sunshine or rain battering the windows, he would glance away from the dense fog outside to see you holding on desperately to the waking world, or feel your fingers curl around his hand when sleep stole you away. 
Most of the time, it wasn't too dangerous and you didn't mind tagging along with him. You'd grown used to the nomad lifestyle, seemingly content with spending a couple weeks in Moonstone Creek from time to time, and the rest of it with him. 
You loved him; you always made that clear. The ring on your right ring finger was proof that he knew that and reciprocated.
There were always, however, doubts. Changmin always had doubts. 
“—And I'll get that blueberry muffin creamer you liked yesterday, too.” 
Changmin broke out of the bubble he'd trapped himself in at the sensation of your lips against his cheek. This mortal body he had flushed at the feeling, his hand swift to stop you from leaving just yet, like an instinct. 
He wrapped an arm around your waist, and his face was level with your stomach from the chair he sat in. The hotels you usually stayed at on your routes always came with a desk and chair, so you could work on Moonstone Creek's finances or he could research. He pressed a kiss to your clothed stomach, his hand squeezing your waist affectionately. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
Your smiling eyes met his and you combed your hand through his hair once, twice. “I'll be back soon. You just keep your head in those books.”
He grumbled something against your stomach—‘I thought college was the last time I'd be pouring over texts’—and your laugh twinkled over his head. He hadn't even been paying attention to the texts he brought; really, his head was elsewhere today. 
“That's your fault for being an anthropology major and for literally chasing down ancient artifacts as your main source of income.”
“That was so unhelpful.”
Another comb through his hair. He could melt. “Just being honest,” you sang amusedly. “Okay, but I should get a move on. All their pastries are gonna be gone, and their danishes smelled really good yesterday.”
He hummed. “Stay safe.” Another kiss. 
Your hand settled at the nape of his neck. “I will. Love you.”
The words warmed in his chest. Just as you were pulling away, his grip tightened for a moment. “You have Clyde?” He couldn't let anything happen to you. 
“Yes—” you patted your jacket pocket, “—Clyde’s where he's always been. And Bonnie?”
“You know she's not moving,” he said, cocking a brow at you. 
You bit your lip through a small laugh and slowly moved toward the hotel room door, shoving your wallet and the room key into your pockets. “Okay. Happy reading then, love.”
“Unhappy reading,” he groaned into his hand, which was followed by your laugh and the door closing behind you. The corners of his lips lifted into a smile.
He counted a few seconds in case you had forgotten something, then went over to grab his phone from the nightstand. Settling on the edge of the bed, he pulled up the text thread he had between himself and Sangyeon. 
sangyeon: okay so don't freak out [sent an image]
sangyeon: but i found this lying around my house the other day, and i asked lily abt it and she said yn was on the fence abt showing u
Changmin could recognize your handwriting against Lily's in the picture. The image was a clear scan of a piece of paper, who's centerpiece was that of a house. It was a roughly drawn blueprint of a cottage, something small, cozy, homely. The house, as you outlined, wasn't large at all, but with one full floor, an attic, and a porch. There were notes all around the house in your familiar scrawl, writing about the projected cost of each thing—typical of you to think about practicality, even in your fantasy house blueprint—as well as features you'd like installed, like a fireplace and a porch swing.
It reminded him so much of Sena's house in the suburbs in a way… had you thought about this while you were there? A place you could call home, some place to settle down eventually, and finally have a slice of normalcy?
sangyeon: lily said she coaxed it out of yn, which is why yn didn't want to share it and make it seem like she was forcing u into anything u weren't comfortable w
sangyeon: but i think that u love her enough to hear her out
sangyeon: idk… it's ur call ofc whether or not u want to have that conversation yet
Changmin always had doubts. He'd learned during his time on the mortal plane to slow down and feel the weight of another's emotions, and what inevitably came with empathy was insecurity. 
You loved him; that was why his ring was on your finger and you would never bring up the cottage you confided to Lily about. You loved him, and knew that there was an unmistakable itch in him that could only be scratched when he was able to move, to not be chained to one place. But humans were different from demons, and your experiences were different from his. 
He always had doubts that you might never be fully content with this life he led. 
He sighed, massaging his jaw absentmindedly with one hand. Sangyeon had sent him those messages two days ago when you and he were driving to this sleepy town, tucked away at the foot of a mountain range. You'd been asleep when they were received, which was why you didn't see the notifications. Changmin could do as little then as he could now, and he basically replied to Sangyeon that he would think about it and talk to you. 
At some point. 
That was before he realized that it would be all he could think about. There was no word for 'selfish’ or 'selfless’ in demonic culture. It was either you did something to help yourself or harm yourself—usually, those who didn't act for their own benefit were thought of as weaker willed. It was difficult to dismantle methods of thinking like this in order to view the world and his interactions in a different way. 
Changmin abandoned his phone on the nightstand so that he could step over to the window and shove it open. The lever was rusty and squealed as he cranked it counterclockwise to let in the fresh pine morning and the natural white noise. 
Maybe this would help him focus on work or gain the courage to talk to you when you came back.
Changmin barely glanced up in time to see a blurry mass hurtling toward his face. “Shit.” 
He dropped to the floor.
A gleeful and tinny laugh like the rattle inside an aluminum can filled the room. The spike of shock in his heart was replaced very quickly with red, hot annoyance. 
“You have got to be kidding me,” he grunted, clambering to his feet, eyes narrowed on the pixie who had invaded his space. “Don't you fuckers ever knock?”
The pixie was only about a foot and a half tall, its translucent, membranous wings fluttering at the speed of a human eye's blink. This one in particular had a pair of orbs as dark as the lowest circles of Hell for eyes and two racks of jagged teeth lining its gums. The pixie buzzed around the room, careful to remain out of Changmin's reach. 
Fuckass supernatural mosquito….
“You hide your true form, demon,” its voice crackled like tin foil. “Naughty, naughty.”
Changmin's nostrils flared. “What's it to you, imp?”
“The darkness that lies deep within you—I can smell it—hear it.” The pixie zipped around the room over Changmin's head, and he gritted his teeth, attempting to clamp his hands around it. It squealed in delight, black eyes going wider and wider as if it could gaze straight into his soul. “What if we open the door, demon? Ah—I smell a human in this room!”
He stiffened. “You’re only smelling my human form,” he bit out.
“Must you need a reminder? I can smell your true form and I can smell lies.” 
Changmin stumbled back as the pixie flew directly in front of his face, then fluttered out of reach before he could snatch the piece of shit out of the air. The organ in his chest continued to hurtle toward overdrive—the pixie could smell you. The pixie could smell you. “I will rip the wings from your back if you even think about touching my human,” he growled. 
The pixie gasped, clapping its tiny, pale hands. “Oh-ho! The claws become you! Won't you show a little more skin, demon?” 
His eyes turned down to his hands, palms turned upward, the tips of his fingers turned an ash gray. Where his chipped fingernails had been, now sat a full set of dagger-sharp claws. He hadn't even realized he'd transformed them. 
“What color does a pixie bleed?” Changmin lunged for the pixie with his claws outstretched. 
The pixie dove out of the way, the claw just barely missing the edge of its leg. “Does your human taste divine?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“Not very fun are you, demon?” The pixie whizzed past his ear, behind his head—Changmin whirled about on the ball of his foot. 
He slammed his palm forward, claws denting the plaster, nightstand digging into his thighs. As the pixie rose up toward the ceiling to stay out of harm's way, Changmin climbed onto the bed, determination coursing through his veins. 
“Would you like a riddle?”
Changmin swiped his hand, relishing in the splatter of clear liquid that glittered in the air—blood. The pixie's eyes widened, this time in fear. “Why would I want a riddle?”
A tremble marked the pixie's voice. “Twin halves of old, sealed by a third / like matches, they will spark the world to burn—” Its words were cut off as it swooped out of the way, its clear blood trailing behind it as Changmin's breathing grew heavier, eyes narrowing. “To save three—”
A loud crinkle, akin to a dozen small bones being crushed. A shrill shriek, nails on a chalkboard. A demonic smirk as he clutched a fragmented wing in his clawed hand. 
“You were saying?” he taunted, bringing the flailing pixie close to his face. Changmin couldn't deny the rush of deep, animalistic satisfaction that purred in his chest at his caught prey. Whatever this pixie had in mind for you would never come to fruition. 
“You're a fool to not heed my warning—” it spat, its agony spilling in glittery globs, “—such actions are so true to your species, my liege.”
The impact of the title came accompanied by a flurry of something bright yellow and fuzzy thrown right into Changmin's face. Alarmed, he dropped the pixie and scrambled to claw the dust out of his eyes and mouth. He spluttered and spat the substance onto the hotel room floor; upon hands and knees, he tried desperately to get ahold of his bearings. 
What the fuck was this stuff?
He could hear the blood pulsing in his ears, feel the transformation taking place. There was energy going toward places on his body to grow extremities he hadn't seen in years. 
No, no, no—
Changmin gagged on the pixie's dust, its acrid taste a reflection of the bitter effects to show. He screwed his eyes shut—willed his body to take control of itself. When his hands went over his head, he swore at the feeling of the twin horns curling out of his crown. 
Every one of his once-human senses were dialed to eleven. Voices and car motors and leaves crunching bombarded his ears; the intricately disgusting layers of odors in the carpet separated themselves beneath him. The sensations overwhelmed him from disuse. He held his head in his arms, panic weighing down and around his bones. 
When the transformation was complete, he was left in haggard breaths. His arms shook as he pushed himself onto his hands and knees, then to brace against the hotel bed. 
The pixie was gone, naturally, and likely escaped out the window from where it came in. 
Changmin splayed his clawed hands beneath him on the white sheets. 
He shook his head, attempting to clear his mind and reign in the sensations to focus on the most important ones. Everything else could be background for now; all he needed was—was that. 
There—it was faint, but approaching by the second. Humming.
It was a soft, familiar sound that curled around his taut spine with the tenderness of a lover's caress. A heartbeat followed, slow but steady and sure. The pattern was also familiar, accompanied by leisurely footsteps and the smell of dark coffee and pastries. 
If he could just focus on those sensations in particular…
Then the thought hit him like a truck. 
That was you. The voice, the heartbeat, the footsteps.
You would return at any moment and see him in this state. Changmin could practically feel the fear that would roll off you in waves (or was that his own?), and he lunged for the bathroom. 
He stumbled into the dark chamber, fearing the reflection he'd find in the mirror should he turn the light on. The door slammed shut behind him and that darkness enveloped him. 
There was your heartbeat again—ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum—still faint, but becoming clearer. 
Slowly, he raised his head up to face the mirror on the bathroom wall. The dooming sense of acceptance dulled his own reaction. 
Twin horns, onyx in color, curled out from the tufts of his hair, hard and unmistakable. His skin had taken on the grayish tint of his kind from the black blood that now ripped through his veins. There were the claws, of course, and the slim, wiry tail speared at the end with a sharp spade and a mind of its own. Fangs, jagged and like small knives, peaked their points out past his lips, and he snapped his mouth shut to keep the forked tongue from tasting air. His eyes had become that of a predator's, the pupils dark as night and slimmer in shape—all the better for a deeper field of focus. 
In Hell, the consistent lack of bright light made it so that pinpoint eyes were sought after; it was better to see in the dark and pick apart the deep shades of red, black, purple, and blues. And, well, any sudden movement. 
Changmin didn't know why he tried to fool himself into thinking keeping the bathroom lights off would change anything. 
Your heartbeat was coming closer, louder. His breathing was beginning to even out as he matched his own to the sound of air rushing through your trachea, then exhaling through your nose. 
He could get himself back to his human form before you got back. He could do it—he swore he could. 
Focus.
It required so much focus and energy, but… but he could do it. He could do it before you saw him like this, before that calm heartbeat became erratic, and you became afraid—afraid of him. 
His breathing deepened as he sucked in a lungful of oxygen. In… out. 
Going from demonic form to human form in the mortal plane would be easy. 
It should have been easy. 
Seconds passed, and your footsteps approached from down the hall. There came the crinkle of a paper bag, shuffling of cardboard, as you shifted things in your hold to grab the room key from your pocket. The aroma of the pastries and coffee you brought back wafted into his nose, but not with the strength that your scent permeated every one of his senses—
Why couldn't he shift back? 
He curled his hands into fists on the counter, frustration making his fangs scrape against each other. 
Why wasn't he able to shift back? It was supposed to be easy—
The door outside clicked open and fell shut. “Changmin? Hey, I'm back.”
He stilled. The words to call back to you were lodged in his throat, unable to form upon the accursed forked tongue in his mouth. Panic seized him by the ribcage and he suddenly found it suffocating to breathe. 
There was silence on your end, and he could hear your heartbeat slowly begin to quicken. “Are you—are you okay? The wall's dented, and the—and the sheets…” 
Your footsteps arrived before the bathroom door, and at the same time he heard the door handle jiggle, he slammed his hand against it to bar you from coming in. 
Changmin could feel your leap of fright; his shoulders sagged with regret. It probably wasn't the best idea to do that. “Don't—” he cleared his throat from the grittiness there, “—don’t come in.”
Your heartbeat calmed then, after hearing back from him. “I won't,” you promised. “Is everything okay?”
I look like a monster. Some dumb fucking pixie made it so I can't shift forms. And I can't lock the stupid door because my nails are too long. 
But you didn't need to know all of that. 
He hung his head, attempting to feel that tendril of power in him that he could grapple onto to trigger the transformation. Nothing. “I'm… I'm fine,” he choked out. “I—” 
The corded necklace that was hidden beneath his shirt swung out into his view. His half of the pendant was not pulsing with life like yours was; it was connected to your heart, after all. But he curled his fingers around it nonetheless, his ears singling out your pulse. 
Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum...
“... Changmin? Can I do something to help?”
He needed time. Fuck, he just needed to wait this stupid pixie dust out. His first thought was to send you away so you wouldn't see him at all. The next was a counter to the former—he needed your pulse. That was his anchor. 
The energy was slowly seeping from his bodily stores to sustain this form in this realm. Maybe if the pixie dust didn't wear off, he could tire his body into transforming. 
Your voice came out even softer. “Hey, what's going on, love?”
His forehead hit the door, eyes fluttering shut. “I'm not… I don't look like myself right now.” The self you're used to, at least. “A pixie came into the room and—and it threw something at me to force me to transform.”
“Into…?”
There was a light thump sound from the other side of the door as you leaned against it. Your warmth radiated through the wood, and the little monster inside him leaned into it. “My demon form.”
Changmin loathed the silence, your held breath. The acceptance washed over him in a deafening wave like his head was being held underwater. 
“Okay,” you exhaled, finally. “That’s okay… and so you're not able to turn back, is that it?”
His eyes couldn't help but narrow. “You're not scared.” The scent rolling off you wasn't that of fear. 
“Why would I be scared of you?”
Changmin's breath shuddered. There were plenty of reasons for you to be scared once you saw him. This body was made to harm. “I can hear your heartbeat.”
“I'm not scar—”
“I could hear it from the street, Yn.” He didn't know what to do about the leap in your pulse, the way that steady ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum tripped over itself. Something at the back of his mind urged him to continue—to tell you everything and convince you to be scared. “I can feel the heat from your blood and smell the hotel soap on your skin.”
A beat passed. “That doesn't scare me.”
If you were anyone else, he would have laughed in your face. Foolish, foolish human. But you weren't just anyone else, and he couldn't get your terror out of his head. 
When he didn't say anything for a moment, you murmured, “Love, can I come in? Can I see you?”
Changmin swallowed. “I don't want to scare you.”
“I know—but I trust you.” Your hand warmed the door handle on the other side, the soft clink of his ring against the metal echoing through the material to reach him. “Do you trust me?”
(If demons ultimately were motivated to do things that would help them, then he should open the door. To his brethren, a human willingly walking into his clutches was a mark too easy not to lose. But the reason they would want you to come in through the door was nowhere near the same reason he wanted you to. 
If demonic culture didn't have a word for selfish or selfless, then what was this?)
He leaned his weight off the door. 
With his body mostly hidden behind the slab of wood, he carefully cracked the door open, his claws wrapped around the outside, so you would be fed his demonic form gradually. You'd seen the claws before when he'd gouged a siren's eyes out. But your eyes drank in the ashen skin around his features—death incarnate—from the slits of his irises to the spirals of ebony piercing out of his head. 
Your heartbeat took off, galloping wildly as he revealed more and more of himself while you stepped into the bathroom. The thunderous rush of your blood echoed in his own ears; it was a tantalizing sensation. 
There was a nervousness to your movements. Your lips were tight, hands slightly shaky. But above all else, your eyes remained tender and worried, and he might have fallen to his knees if he wasn't clutching the door. 
“Do you want to close the door?” You asked. 
Even now, you wanted to accommodate him. He gave a small nod, but added, “Can you—can you turn around?”
You dipped your head once, then turned your back to him. 
(So much trust… When did he earn all of this? From what did he deserve to have your back to him in this context? He could slit your throat in a blink, but you would throw yourself into Hell if he asked.
If demonic culture didn't have a word for selfish or selfless, then what was this?)
Changmin closed the bathroom door and swallowed everything into darkness once again. He could hear your shallow breathing; you were trying to keep it steady, because you knew he could hear it as clear as a bell, but it wouldn't fool him. 
He took a step closer—then faltered, as he reached a hand out for your shoulder. He retracted his hand to his side. “You can turn around.”
Eyes watched as you slowly turned your body back around. You were fidgeting around with his ring, twisting the dark metal back and forth, as you lifted your eyes up and down his form. 
There was that catch in your breath again. Changmin's shoulders were so tense, he couldn't decide if that was from how high-strung he was or from the energy steadily being spent from his body. He'd probably last about another hour or two before collapsing. 
The bathroom was deafeningly quiet, with only your breaths and heartbeat keeping his insecurities company. He wanted to shrink into the collar of his shirt under your gaze, eyes blown wide as the moon. As you soaked him in, his eyes roved over your face—searching, searching, searching. 
At last, you tried for a soft smile. “You don't scare me.”
“I don't?” But he couldn't smell fear on you, couldn't make out any clear displays of it. He'd looked for them all. Your heartbeat had calmed, but your expression had never lost that something. 
(Was this love?)
You stepped forward once, and then again, until you stood with your toes touching and noses almost brushing. You shook your head and reached up to brush your thumb against his cheekbone. 
So warm… so gentle. 
His fangs gleamed in the dark when his lips parted. “You've been through so much,” he croaked. “Don't I look like them?” Them, the few creatures who had made you go on the run in the first place? Did creatures like him not haunt your waking world and nightmares? How could you bear to sleep next to him at night?
“If you're trying to convince me you're a monster, then it won't work.” Your fingers trailed down the plane of his face and he reached up to grasp onto you before you could retreat. “Does it hurt?”
At that question, he couldn't help the small, raspy laugh that bubbled out of his chest. 
“What?” You asked, the corners of your mouth lifting upward. 
“It's no—” he shook his head, his tongue darting out to slip over his lips. His fingers rearranged around yours and held them close to his chest, his thumb finding the familiar characters of his name wrapped around your digit. “—nothing. I just… you still care.”
Confusion flickered over your face, but was swiftly replaced by something softer. “Of course I still care.”
“I could hurt you.”
“You could have hurt me a long time ago.” But you haven't. 
Changmin swallowed again, relishing in the warmth that radiated from your palm wrapped in his. “No, it doesn't really hurt,” he whispered. “I just can't sustain this form for very long.”
Your eyes shone. “How long?”
“A couple hours at most,” he said, fangs grazing his lip. “I'm trying to wait out the pixie dust—”
“Pixie dust? Aren't you supposed to be flying?” Your grin was flooring, but he managed not to falter. At his deadpan expression, you patted the back of his hand. “Sorry, don't get your horns in a twist.”
“Yn—”
“It was right there; I had to.” 
Even he couldn't suppress the curl of lips for long. He just… Hell, he just loved you. Even if he now had slits for pupils and knives for teeth, nothing could mistake the blatant fondness in his features. His eyes could be pitch black, but he would still find a way to express silently how much he adored you. 
You pursed your lips, the mirth leaving your face for a second. “Do you need blood? How long until the pixie dust wears off?”
“I'm not sure, but I'm not taking your blood.” He sent you a pointed look when you opened your mouth to retaliate. “It's like you have a death wish from the amount of times you've offered me blood. I'm not dying, sweetheart.”
“You could be…”
“Technically, I'm undead—”
You rolled your eyes. “Okay, whatever.” Your nose wrinkled up for a second, and then you were wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his shirt. “You’re still Changmin to me. You're still the guy I'm in love with.”
His arms came around your form and he tucked his face into the crook of your neck, careful to keep his horns from hitting you. He suffocated himself on the feel of your skin, the subtle bump in your pulse just beneath the surface. Despite everything, you still trusted him enough to put his teeth so close to your scars. You didn't run away from him, from the true him. 
(Was this love?)
He wanted to hold you here forever. His human. “I love you.”
Your body tensed in surprise, and it nearly chased him away until you squeezed him tighter. He felt your lips against the place his human heart would have been. Changmin always had doubts, but you were so good at calming them. “I know.”
And haven't you always known?
Changmin had known, too, even if he'd searched long and hard for the doubt. All this time of sharing your space, your warmth, your company—he knew. 
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a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed!
night terrors fic / collection
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @lotties-readings @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @gluion @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @bjnet
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maryrouille · 8 months ago
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Tips for good studying
I must admit that I am shocked at how helpful the post about Toxic romanticization of studying was for you, so I decided to expand it with a second part. Here I will talk a little about examples from my own experience with studying.
1. Take small steps
Even tiny, but keep moving forward. I know it's a very clichéd phrase, but it really works. Especially in the case of very complex theories or extensive material. Then it is worth starting by understanding the basics and expanding this knowledge based on the information that we can best learn first. This way of learning looks like creating increasingly wider circles around one dot (which was our basis).
My practical advice: when I learn very difficult things, I start by finding starting points and writing them down on a small piece of paper (e.g. names or dates). Then I try to combine it in any way possible. When I find connotations, I look for more information about them, which I transfer to a larger piece of paper. This creates charts of varying levels of connection and complexity.
2. Clearly divide time for studying, rest and fun
Of course, studying can be fun, but sometimes we need a moment to relax and do nothing. It's good to divide these moments, which will allow us to either focus completely on work or on rest. Combining learning, especially the kind that is a burden for us, with some form of relaxation makes both activities ineffective. And we still get tired of all this.
My mistake: the countless times I've worked on something and wasn't happy with the results that day. And the evening came, and instead of letting go and resting, I tried to combine "relaxation" with further work. It ended up that I didn't do anything productive, nor did I enjoy a glass of wine or a movie that I watched because she stubbornly tried to do something else.
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3. Stimulants are always harmful
In this case, stimulants can be understood in many ways. It may be coffee, alcohol, nicotine or even illegal things. Culturally, we don't see anything wrong with another cup of coffee when we need to concentrate. Or another cigarette, or champagne when we need to relieve stress. However, it should be remembered that all these substances affect our perception and brain functioning to a greater or lesser extent. And isn't it great and healthy to know that we can achieve a lot without these boosters?
My weakness: as I mentioned earlier about a glass of wine, It's nice, but it doesn't help me study. However, I read undemanding books with a wine in bed for pure pleasure.
4. Take care of your neurons
First of all, you need to understand that our brain is responsible for studying. And the brain is an organ and our will is not always enough for its proper functioning. We need to take care of our neurons so that they continue to develop and expand their connections. How to do it? In addition to maintaining overall health, you also need to get enough sleep, have access to fresh air and sun, discover and experience new things and take care of your diet.
My tip: discovering something new every day seems to be an extremely difficult challenge, but it may just be tiny things done in a different way. Changing the place helps me gain a fresh perspective when studying. Sometimes I go to another room, sit by the open window, move everything to the floor or go outside.
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If you have any examples of mistakes, good advice or similar problems with studying, you can share them below. There is nothing better than exchanging experiences and having a joint discussion that can bring new solutions to problems!
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the-100-days-of-junkan · 2 months ago
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Day 52
What the hell happened when i was coloring this one- Oh hi there! Looks like today we’ve got ourself more of Junko showering Mikan in affection!~ 
I don’t know why it looks like I had a live sturgeon slammed into my spinal cord while I colored it but that’s neither here nor there.
I’m writing this post on Day 31, so here’s a time traveling HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I also want to take this opportunity again to say thank you all so much for the kind words you leave on these posts, it all really adds up to help me stay in fighting shape to keep working on art and really balances out on the amount of energy I burned up during the 9 months making this project.
I’ve probably yapped about this before, but I’m not fuckin crosschecking 51 previous days to double check, but if I have any goals with this project it’s this.
A!. Give back to the small community of people who’ve kept me fed with either their fanart or fanfic for this highly niche version of the ship. I think you all have a pretty good idea of who you are in specific but I can’t emphasize enough that this project wouldn’t be happening without ya’ll making my brain deep fry in my skull from the levels of obsession I had for these two getting to be happy. This is my thanks to ya’ll! 
And
B!. I do this in the hopes that it’ll inspire people to make more art of these two, whether drawn or in a literary sense. My hope would be soft given what I’ve been doing for this project, but even if it ends up laying a bit outside my lane it’ll do my heart good to know I inspired anything at all with what I’ve been doing here. And hey, is this partially influenced by the fact that I’m really desperate for more junkan art because there’s only so much my hands can do before they break?
. . . maybe! But while I may be a greedy woman, I’m an artist first and foremost!~ It is my primary goal and desire to bring joy to the masses and inspire the artistic hearts of people everywhere, whether it be people who’ve been in this game longer than I, or people who were like me and hid away in the shadows taking in the current amount of Junkan in the world and eternally spinning it in their mind!
And the funnier third option, the people who randomly came across this and accidentally found out that they’re really into this, y’know like me. But that’s a story for another day!~ . . . and by that i mean like day 98 yeah you’re not getting the proper origin story for awhile.
As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~
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vinnsley · 3 months ago
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Hi! I saw your recent post about wanting to write! If you're still caught up with Dislyte, could you write something quick for Chu Yao x reader?
(ignore this request if you change your mind or if you don't want to do it, it's totally ok!)
actually, im not caught up at all, i have 0 idea who this fellow is! 😝
So im gonna write headcanons of how i think he would act like based on voice lines and design. tho i might redownload it... sigh
didnt read again nor edit it, were raw dogging with this one
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To me, he seems to be rather secretive and someone who tends to keep to himself. So the fact you even close to him to be friends — Let alone lovers was a miracle on it's own.
Especially if you weren't a Shadow Decree member. (Mortal, Esper, or part of the Esper Union, doesn't matter)
Based on him wanting to 'dominate' earth and heaven (Also probably everything beyond it), he would probably want to monitor you any way he could. As a way to make himself feel like he has the 'upper-hand'.
Definitely possessive and becomes easily jealous. Judging from his divinate art, he definitely has some type of trauma (My guess would be religious?)
"When all is chaos... i will rule." Even if this his echo intro, he looks like an uptight clean freak who cannot work or gets unnerved if he has to be in a disorganized environment. You cannot really convince me otherwise. So if you were to actually 'hang out' with him... you would need to be somewhere he affirms is clean to his standards.
He probably (definitely imo) has a twisted sense of 'justice'. To me, it seems like he's simply obsessed with the idea of pleasing Taiyi and would do anything to achieve praise and reassurance that he's good enough. (For what? 0 idea)
So... praise him. He would be surprised. Wide eyes as he looks over at you and if you're lucky, a slight blush forming on his cheeks. But don't overuse it. Of you overuse praise, it loses it's meaning (specifically coming from you.), if you would per se praise him daily for something he would shrug it off like it was just a random comment, not reacting or even focusing on you.
The same goes for those cursed 3 words. I love you. Don't overuse this either, ESPECIALLY this. Because i bet on my life that he wouldn't say 'I love you' even if his life depended on it. (Maximum only when he was in private or something.)
Talking about private, i said before, he's definitely closed off. You wouldn't know much of what he's doing, what's going on his mind, or what he's planning. And you would know even less if you aren't a Shadow Decree member. Though that doesn't necessarily mean he doesn't love nor trust you, he's just used to keeping to himself.
In all honesty, i doubt he's much of a talker either. I think he wouldn't speak unless he's spoken to or he deems fit to interfere. So it would probably be you doing most of the talking. But he would engage in the conversation with small quips and responses to let you know he is listening (and interested perhaps), and not ignoring you.
I think his love language would be gift giving. Trinkets he found or bought (maybe even hand-made, i think he definitely has some type of hobby he secretly very much enjoys and does it closed doors whenever he could) to give you. Definitely something usable or something you could utilize in a way.
I also think he likes proximity. It plays into him being very protective about the things he likes, enjoys or treasures. So if you're close to him, or he knows where you are (plays into monitoring...) he's fine and dandy. Just his usual self.
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harukamitsuki · 27 days ago
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I realized that I don't hate Bakugou, I just think he's a boring character, besides being a complete Gary Stu. I don't understand how the fandom thinks he's the most complex character, like even Tokayami manages to be more interesting than him. Besides, his fandom treats anyone who doesn't like him as if they're committing a mortal sin. What's your opinion?
If his fandom didn't actively undermine everything he did, if they weren't trying to shove him down our throats, I wouldn't hate him as much. And if Horikoshi didn't try to shove him down our throats, I would probably even enjoy him to some extent.
I don't like him as he is now. Or was, considering it's over now. He was abusive as hell, loud and obnoxious, rude to anyone and everyone, didn't change at all, and most of all, the narrative bends around him.
Characters who would hate him somehow adore him. Characters who wouldn't take his shit from anyone else somehow adore him. Physics don't work the same way for him. His quirk has, like, four awakenings. Death literally doesn't stick around for him.
He's not allowed to work for anything - it's given to him, which makes it hilarious when Aizawa, aka Horikoshi's mouthpiece, justifies everything he does with 'he works harder than everyone'. Especially when Izuku is right there, who worked for ten months straight just to get a shot at placing high enough for U.A.
The world bends for him, because Horikoshi didn't want to put in the effort of, ahem... writing a good, compelling character.
And, no, I don't mean good as in morally good. Characters don't have to be good people to be good characters.
However, if the character is both a bad person and badly written, people are far less compelled to enjoy them.
Prime example: Doflamingo from One Piece. He's a bad person, but his writing is so good that people either love him or love to hate him.
Bakugou doesn't even work in the 'meant to be hated' spectrum, as he's not. Horikoshi genuinely wants people to love him, without realising that he makes it hard to do so with his terrible writing.
Look at Shou Tucker from FMA - 2003 and Mangahood. Everyone, and I mean everyone, hates this piece of shit. We would were all happy that Scar filled him, and we wish he was real just so we could disfigure his face. He is hated universally, because that's what he was supposed to be.
Ugh, I'm going off-subject.
Anyway! Back to the ask!
Bakugou is a very boring character. The only reason people think he isn't is because of his 'redemption arc' and his angry personality. Those two things are generally what people point to if you try to tell them that he's boring.
What they don't understand is that the 'redemption arc' doesn't work, because he never even reformed himself, nor did he work for it. It was all handed to him.
His anger is very generic, but it stands out due to everyone in 1-A either being very cheerful, very bland, or emotionally stunted. Not even Endeavour is eternally angry; most of the time, he feels very cold, ironically.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: he would have been more enjoyable if he was left behind post-Battle Trials, as was the original plan. It only changed because Horikoshi drew him crying.
As a minor antagonist, he would have been great. If his redemption happened in the background, I wouldn't have cared. Personally, I probably would have actually liked him if he stayed as an antagonist.
His fandom are so obsessed with making him seem like the best character ever. The irony is that most of them hate Endeavour, despite them being incredibly similar.
I know that it's not all Bakugou fans. There are a lot of them, but there are also a lot of them who just want to keep to themselves and just enjoy their fav without trying to make everyone adore him. To a lot of people, it doesn't matter if you hate or dislike Bakugou.
But, to a lot of them, it does. There are people who spend about 2k on bots to make sure B*kuD*ku wins the polls, or people who spend more to make sure Bakugou wins the popularity contests.
Heck, there are people who were crying over IzuOcha being canon, despite all the hints that it was canon since EPISODE FOUR. I thought it was obvious that IzuOcha were the canon ship when they first met and Izuku was flustered, despite him never getting that flustered over other girls.
But, nope. They're crying and blocking Horikoshi and harassing people over IzuOcha being canon. They claim that B*kuD*ku was canon and Horikoshi queerbaited them, when he really didn't. They convinced themselves that it was canon and blamed everyone else that it didn't happen.
Man, this is why Hiroshima didn't make NaLu canon in Fairy Tail.
Bakugou fans concern me, because they seem to not realise that things not being canon is the reason fandom exists. Fandom exists because people, (specifically white women watching Star Trek), asked themselves, 'what if'.
'What if' these two characters k-k-k-kissed!? 'What if' this character survived? 'What if' this happened?
Bakugou fans just don't seem to understand that.
Honestly, just writing him off as a boring character and nothing more is better for your mental health.
(Just don't tell the Bakugou stans. They'll gut you alive.)
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faulty-writes · 1 year ago
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[ Alright! Here’s a Taishiro piece for you! This was originally going to be for a Fat Gum Bang, but one of the admins was a real jerk, so I decided to quit the bang and post it here instead! This also might be slightly different from my other works, I’m trying to incorporate more detail with settings and surroundings in my writing. Depending on how well this is received, I may write a part II. Either way, I haven’t written for Fat Gum in a while. I hope you’ll enjoy it! ]
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[ Working for The Public Modeling Commission wasn’t easy, but you managed. The modeling business wasn’t for everyone, and society always had negative opinions about plus-sized models including famous ones such as Taishiro Toyomitsu, who defied these societal expectations to the point of getting The Public Modeling Commission’s attention and furthermore, getting a proposed collaboration from them. But he’s on the fence about it until you’re sent in to convince him. ]
One had to follow certain rules in certain settings, and the modeling industry was no different. Be respectful, keep eye contact, and follow orders exactly. During your many years working under The Public Modeling Commission, you learned these things.
The sound of multiple voices and the gentle clink of glasses filled the air of the grandiose ballroom. The chandeliers hanging along the length of the ceiling sparkled like prisms and cast rainbow hues that reflected off the walls and some parts of the marble flooring that was colored a pristine white and had gentle strokes of yellow.
Delicate blue flowers were also painted onto its surface, further adding to the sense of elegance that made you feel suffocated. That’s probably why you chose to stand in the corner. You wore a gray tailored suit with a crisp white button-up shirt, the collar of which remained open exposing just enough skin.
A black tie complemented the collar and hung loosely around your neck and the black blazer that hugged your figure added a touch of sophistication that was normally associated with these types of parties. And finally, on your feet were polished oxfords.
You sighed and slumped against the wall as one of the waiters walked around holding a large circular tray with what appeared to be five flute cups filled with a golden liquid that kissed the edge of each glass and had some delicate bubbles floating along the top of it that begged you to drink.
Despite this, you resisted the urge. It was lovely to drink champagne, but you were ordered not to consume any alcoholic beverages. However, you knew that being part of this celebration should make you happy. Should.
After all, it was regarding the newly created plus-size modeling division The Public Modeling Commission was planning to launch. Unlike many models and society in general, you didn’t judge anyone based on their size, nor were you stuck up as some would assume people in your career were.
While it looked good on the surface, modeling became a dead-end job after a while. As strange as that may sound, not to mention the dark secrets behind the modeling industry or at least the dark secrets behind The Public Modeling Commission. However, you had your reasons for continuing to do it.
It’s not like you were a private person, you told anyone anything you felt like saying. In most respects, honesty wasn’t something you feared. Sadly, if your past were to come to light, it would ruin your career and the image of The Public Modeling Commission.
Unlike most models, you didn’t have a pleasant start. You shuttered when you thought about your past although you suspected that most would look up to you if they knew the things you had been through and the success you tasted now.
However, the past was the past, and you were determined to keep it behind closed doors. When you think about it, your job had many positive perks…well, besides fame. It also had its downsides, such as working even when you weren’t supposed to.
“Y/n,” Yokumiru Mera said, approaching you. Yokumiru was the second in command of The Public Modeling Commission and worked closely with Madam President, who oversaw the entire operation. Without her command, the wheel wouldn’t turn.
“Hm?” You hummed in response. Yokumiru was a middle-aged man, his usual messy beige hair was slicked back and the dark bags that were normally present under his eyes were concealed with makeup. He was wearing a formal black shirt with a white collar and tie, along with black dress pants.
“Here,” the man said before handing you a small envelope, sounding tired as ever. You glanced at it briefly before opening it and upon reading what it said, you knitted your eyebrows. “Taishiro Toyomitsu?” you asked, immediately recognizing the name.
He had an agency in Esuha City and was a famous plus-sized model. Yokumiru nodded. “You know who he is, Madam President wants to ensure the collaboration between this agency and his goes smoothly,” he explained. 
Taishiro has been making astonishing achievements in his plus-size modeling career and caught the attention of The Public Modeling Commission, that’s what initially started their desire to create a plus-sized modeling division of their own.
While most would find this a noble goal, you knew it was only for business purposes considering The Public Modeling Commission was the largest modeling agency in Japan and had endless connections. Most of which were made from the past collaborations they had agreed to with lesser agencies.
But unlike those past collaborations, Madam President was intensely focused on doing a special collaboration with Taishiro that would skyrocket the introduction of the new plus-sized modeling division. A hand fisted into his hair as he sighed.
“She wants you to gain his favor and give her a report.” It was your turn to sigh. This was typical of Madam President to give you tasks that were meaningless in the long run and sometimes you questioned her methods. But this was also meaningless.
When she pulled the strings, you had to dance if you wanted to stay on her good side, and more importantly, if you wanted to remain employed. You nodded and tucked the envelope away on your person. “Understood,” you replied before looking around the room.
That’s when you spotted him, a rather tall and bulky man standing over the snack table dressed in an orange suit and tie. The few people who were standing nearby were looking at him in awe or possibly disgust, you couldn’t tell.
But you saw a handful of others making subtle gestures at him and more than likely gossiping about how big he was which, in your typical modeling business, gave the right to ridicule. That didn’t sit well with you, but you weren’t someone who dived into drama unless it was necessary.
After looking at Yokumiru, you crossed the room to Taishiro who was holding a small plastic plate while looking disappointed at the finger foods that were arranged just so on fancy clear plates across the table. The food they provided didn’t appeal to you either.
It was tasteless, bland, and didn’t satisfy your appetite and that’s probably why most of the attendants preferred to fill up on alcohol. “Were you expecting something else there?” you commented, grabbing a plate of your own and successfully catching the man’s attention. 
“Hm?” Taishiro turned and that’s when you got a better look at the outfit he was wearing. In addition to the sleek suit jacket which yes, was as bright as an orange, you also noticed he was wearing matching trousers and a deep burgundy colored tie with black dress shoes that while like yours, looked more worn.
You smirked, ignoring his stare even as you piled your plate with the provided finger foods. Then you smiled at him. In addition to your outfit, figure, and hairstyle, he also noted that you appeared to be of average height, even though it wasn’t much of an endorsement given his stature; most people were much smaller than him.
As most of the models at this party did, you looked handsome and beautiful. Prim and proper even. He noticed that when you were a little plumper than others, there wasn’t much kindness in their eyes when they looked at you, but your eyes...well they were different.
Taishiro had long since gotten used to the stares and criticism that came with his job and...well, his build. Despite this, he had his reasons for considering the collaboration proposal from The Public Modeling Commission but had yet to fully make up his mind.
He was quite a handsome fella when he modeled in his youth, and he was well acquainted with the modeling business. However, many don't remember him for his younger years, but rather for what he became in his later years.
“Well, I know these fancy-like parties have these lil’ delicacies. They may be appetizin’ for some, but ‘fraid they don’t do much for a big fella like me,” he explained with a smile. In response, you shrugged and ate one of the snacks on your plate.
Despite tasting bland on your tongue, you chose to engage in conversation, just as Madam President instructed. “Well, it’d be dangerous if they served actual food at these kinds of events,” you joked. “You know the ones with...models.”
Although some may not find your joke humorous, it was one of the harsh realities of modeling. Maintaining your appearance, for the most part, was essential otherwise you would lose your career. Taishiro frowned. “Heh, well...” he paused, uncertain what to say.
“That doesn’t apply to you, does it? Don’t get me wrong. Plus-sized models are amazing and you’re doing the right thing by promoting what you do,” you said with a smile. “After all, you’re Taishiro Toyomitsu,” he laughed. “Sure am!” he replied.
“And what’s your name? I’ve seen ya around, on billboards and such,” he grinned as he extended his hand out. “Y/n,” you responded, shaking his hand. As soon as he heard your name, his eyes lit up, which you expected.
After all, you had held sixth place among the top 10 models in Japan for years which was impressive considering the models ahead of you were Enji Todoroki, Keigo Takami, Tsunagu Hakamada, Shinya Kamihara, and Rumi Usagiyama.
Most of them had their own agencies. It was almost funny to think that models were treated as though they were celebrities. While most had their own fanbase, the top 10 models typically received the most love and as such, they needed to work hard to keep their fanbase happy.
It was a challenge sometimes, but you managed. After all, when you had so many fans who loved your beautiful face, it was best not to disappoint. As far as the ranking board was concerned, you knew that Taishiro fell within the 50 most popular models. In retrospect, that was an incredible accomplishment for a plus-sized model.
“Well fancy yourself a model!” he declared, putting his plate down before nudging your shoulder. “You’ve been with The Public Modeling Commission for a while, right? Maybe ya can teach me a thing or two,” he joked and you faked a smile, but it seemed genuine to most, and you knew it would fool him as well.
“Yeah, guess you could say that,” you replied, shrugging. “And yes, I could teach you a thing or two. First things first,” you pointed lazily at the individuals who continued to stare at Taishiro as if he were some sort of spectacle. “See those stares?” you asked, watching as he turned his head ever so slightly to see who you were referring to.
You threw your plate of food into the nearby trashcan while he was distracted and after a moment of hesitation, he replied, “Yeah.” Your smile widened. “Fantastic!” You exclaimed. “Ignore them,” you held two fingers up before he could respond.
“Second,” You took the plate of food he had set on the table and carelessly dropped it on the floor. He looked utterly shocked by your actions, but before he could address it you motioned for him to follow you. “It’s better to gorge yourself on actual food.” He looked at the food now splattered across the floor.
Since it was a little hard to lean over when you were a big fella, he followed you curious to see where you were leading him. “I’m guessing you’re familiar with the restaurants around here, yeah?” He chuckled at your question.
“Sure, I am!” He replied with a happy grin. “Great!” You said as you walked past the entrance of the building and out into the cool night air. No matter what time it was, the city was always busy, but at night, it was more captivating.
Neon lights illuminated the streets and reflected a rainbow of hues off the windows of the numerous buildings that surrounded the area, creating that bustling energy that cities are known for. In addition, the paper lanterns that hung from the food stands nestled between the buildings created a warm, welcoming aura.
They also added that savory fragrance that lingered in the air and made your mouth water. Despite that, a multitude of people lined the sidewalk, and each seemed woven together as they passed one another. Others sat on the available benches that were scattered around or stood at one of the many bus stops the city offered.
“Mm...” You seemed drawn to the couples that walked hand in hand or were sitting down lovingly gazing at each other. You never thought much about romance, but what else could you expect when you were adored by...well everyone?
It was somewhat disappointing to think that they only loved you for your career as opposed to the real you. Whoever that was. Even so, as of right now, you aren’t interested in anyone. You glanced up at Taishiro who, too, seemed awestruck by how beautiful the city looked.
Nope...weren’t interested in anyone. “So,” you said, resuming walking. “What restaurant do you want to go to?” He hesitated before following you. “Whatever suits your fancy! Trust me, this big ol’ gut doesn’t care as long as the food is hot and fresh!” he said patting his stomach with a hearty laugh.
“Mm, is that so?” You asked, glancing back at him. “Sure is. One thing I’ve learned is not to be picky when it comes to havin’ a good meal,” he shared. “Yeah, I agree,” you replied, your stomach grumbling at the thought of some steamy hot food piled high on a plate.
You looked ahead, spotting a large red building with a flashing yellow sign situated above it and a long line that expanded down the sidewalk. “Since we’re on the same page, how about we go there?” you suggested pointing at the restaurant.
“Seems a bit crowded,” he replied after taking into account the long line of people waiting outside. You smirked, “I know, but I’m sure I could get us a private room no problem,” you winked at the bigger man, who looked at you in confusion.
Instead of addressing it, when the two of you approached the building, you walked to the front door and he remained standing on the sidewalk. When the line of people spotted you, screams of joy echoed and he heard a few people call out your name. “Hm,” it wasn’t that hard for him to put two and two together.
“Heyo!” You greeted them with a pleasing smile and a playful wink, making them scream out again. He laughed softly. In general, he didn’t have much of a fan base because few people liked plus-sized models, but he treasured the fans he did have because fame wasn’t everything.
The only thing he wanted was to spread positivity and self-love. Glam and fashion magazines have always told everyone that skinny was the only way to be, that somehow a small stomach and a flawless face equaled true beauty. It didn’t.
He enjoyed inspiring others to see their inner beauty and appreciate how they looked on the outside. However, he was happy to see that you had a lot of fans. Guess you earned them. The hostess appeared more taken by you than the rest of the crowd and stared at you with such love and awe he was almost jealous.
“Mind if we get a private room to eat in, sweetheart? Yeah, I can autograph that for you,” chuckling, you took her clipboard and scribbled your name across it. She allowed you to enter after a selfie request but stumbled back when Taishiro walked over. Unlike you, he didn't get a warm welcome per se.
Suddenly, the crowd that had been shrieking for you stopped and murmurs and concerns filled the air. He couldn’t help but recall that most of the discrimination he faced was due to his size and shape. But people just have to deal with it.
When you realized he hadn’t followed you inside, you paused and turned to see him standing in front of the hostess. She wore a defensive posture, and you could only assume she was giving him a nasty look. “Hey,” you said, catching her attention.
“He’s with me,” the hostess looked at you in disbelief before looking back at Taishiro. Then with a sigh, she motioned him inside. You could only imagine what was going through her mind. Of course, that wasn’t important.
You turned and resumed walking inside the restaurant. It wasn’t that difficult for him to notice that you turned several heads when you walked by. The waitresses gave you that familiar loving gaze and some squealed with delight when they saw you.
Others who were eating suddenly paused and gazed at you with amazement. He wondered if you realized what you were doing or if you had just gotten so used to being treated this way that you ignored their reactions. Either way, he hoped you were happy and if you weren’t, heck he’d try his best to make you.
The pristine wooden door leading into the private room opened with a faint whisper and you noticed it was adorned with a beautiful painting of cherry blossoms and delicate pinks and greens that looked like they were swaying when the door moved.
You looked at Taishiro before stepping inside and immediately noted the elegantly placed table that dominated the room. It appeared to be constructed from ash wood, giving it a modern and sophisticated appearance that aligned with the feeling of the restaurant.
Its edges were carefully constructed into a gentle curve, and, like the door, cherry blossoms adorned its perimeter, further enhancing its artistic appeal. Its polished and prim surface had a pitcher of ice water and two large glasses on it and reflected the soft golden glow from the paper lanterns hung across the room.
To create an inviting atmosphere, the table was set low to the ground on tatami mats painted a greenish hue, encouraging you and Taishiro to sit on one of the four cushions placed along the curves of the table. Your concentration was broken when Taishiro laughed.
“Well, guess that’s a preview of the lovin’ and admirin’ ya get daily, huh?” You wanted to shrug and dismiss his words. Instead, you walked over and took a seat and he followed, taking the one across from you. Although he struggled a bit getting onto his knees and sitting cross-legged which you partly expected.
You tried to resist smirking and leaned one elbow on the table and cradled your hand against your cheek. “Yeah, more or less, sorry if I threw you for a loop,” you said with a forced laugh. “Heh, that’s alright!” he declared.
“No harm done, and I enjoy seein’ ya work your magic,” your smile filled him with joy, but there was something odd about it. He tended not to appreciate others smiling unless they meant it. “Right, well,” you picked up the menu and glanced over the choices while tapping your chin.
You lacked self-control when it came to food. Considering your very strict exercise regimen, eating whatever you desired didn’t adversely affect your modeling career. When you glanced up, you noted that Taishiro looked tall even when he was seated, and although he was a big and round individual, he was nice to look at.
His skin was clear and creamy, his blond hair fell in gentle waves, and his eyes were the same color as his hair. His appearance was truly unique, and you admired it. Several years ago, he made his plus-sized modeling debut, and you remember everyone laughing and criticizing him.
Of course, there were a few kind hearts out there, yourself included, that thanked him for his work and how he defied plus-sized modeling limitations. Not many knew this, but he was one of your motivations for your modeling career.
It’s funny how life works sometimes. Here you were sitting with one of the most famous plus-sized models in Japan, the same plus-sized model you had admired for years. Yet, it was almost as though it were under false pretenses given the fact you were only following orders.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t wise to go against Madam President since the newest division of her modeling franchise depended on Taishiro’s collaboration, and you were sent in as her rat to sweeten the deal. You didn’t realize how lost in thought you were until you heard your name.
“Y/n?” You snapped out of your daze. “Huh?” you replied, only to hear him laugh in return. “Is anythin’ wrong? Heh, I can understand why ya wanna stare, heck a lot of people stare at me. But your head seems to be in the clouds, is there somethin’ on your mind?” You shook your head.
“No...nothing,” you replied, glancing to the side. Despite knowing you were lying, he shrugged. “Alrighty then...” he said, not wanting to provoke or push you into telling him what was wrong. It had to come out sooner or later. “So,” he adjusted the menu in his hands.
“What were ya thinkin’ of gettin’? Everythin’ sounds pretty appetizin’, doesn't it?” You tapped your lips several times, scanning the menu. “Hm...takoyaki, yakitori, and tempura sound delicious. We could also order sushi and onigiri,” you suggested, making him laugh in response.
As you lowered your menu, you raised an eyebrow in his direction. “I’m sorry,” he said, letting his laughter die down. “I didn’t mean to disrespect ya in any way. I just wasn’t expectin’ a model as fine as yourself to be prepared to eat that much,” he explained.
“I just admire someone with an appetite like mine,” he added. “Heh,” you tried to smile but knew what he was thinking. He thought you were like the rest of the braindead models, who starved themselves or ate nothing but healthy food, but that’s not how you lived.
You reminded yourself again that as long as you stuck to your exercise routine, the one Madam President made for you, eating what you pleased wouldn’t jeopardize your career. “Is that correct?” You asked respectfully, but even so, tension dripped from you like a leaky faucet.
He opened his mouth, sensing the tension, only to have the waitress interrupt him. After placing your order, you flashed her a smile and tried to ignore the look of disbelief on her face. Then Taishiro ordered his food, and the two of you were left alone again.
After pouring yourself a glass of water and taking a sip, you glanced at him and leaned back in your seat. “So, what made you want to get into modeling? If memory serves, you started modeling after you graduated High School and your popularity grew,” you said, wanting to start a conversation.
Taishiro tensed up a bit and a hint of sadness appeared in his eyes. “Yeah, I suppose that’s right,” he said, quickly recalling his younger years. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed modelin’ back then, and still do now!” he exclaimed with a determined smirk.
But it soon faded, and he fixed his eyes on the table. “After a while though, fame, and fortune don’t mean much if people only come to ya ‘cause you’re pleasin’ to the eye,” he explained, and you understood what he meant.
It seemed that beauty played the most crucial role in determining how people treated you and what kind of looks you got in society. “I wanted to be somethin’ more, but along the way, I found another passion,” he said, patting his stomach.
“After that, I got to thinkin’ that despite my growin’ size I could still be a role model that others look up to,” you nodded. “Yeah…I remember your early days as a model. You inspired me to follow the profession. Even after people tried to bury your name and career,” you smirked when he parted his lips in shock.
“Heh, well I guess I should be thankin’ ya for lookin’ up to me so kindly. But with natural beauty like yours, I’d think you’d find your way into this career without lookin’ up to me,” he said, and you shook your head, a smile still painting your features.
“I like looking up to you. The fact that you redefined the modeling business is amazing,” might as well try buttering him up. “All your dedication and work are paying off. The Public Modeling Commission was determined to open a plus-sized division after seeing your success.” You chuckled briefly.
“I’m sure the collaboration between your and our agencies will finally give plus-sized models the respect they deserve and-” you paused. You could dig for more information discreetly now that you’ve mentioned The Public Modeling Commission and the collaboration. You could also make sure Taishiro was 100% on board.
You felt your stomach twist in disgust, almost wishing he knew what you were doing. If he did, the kind and admiring eyes he used to look at you would no longer be there. “Oh sorry,” you said, pressing your hands against your chest.
“You haven’t fully decided if you will go through with the collaboration. Shouldn’t have mentioned it, I-” He interrupted you, falling hook, line, and sinker for your setup. “It’s alright,” he said with a chuckle allowing his eyes to linger on you for a long moment then gazed at your hand which remained resting on the table.
“Truth be told, I was on the fence about it…but…” You tensed up when he placed his hand over yours. Yes, you did not judge others by their, ahem…proportions. But it was hard to ignore how large his hand was. While it swallowed your hand whole, you also noticed how warm and gentle his touch was.
His thumb stroked the side of your hand like one would pet a bird or a kitten. “Ya convinced me with your kindness,” you knitted your eyebrows. “Sorry?” you replied, but he smiled. “Your kindness, most wouldn’t approach me like ya did,” he chuckled, “and that honesty of yours is also somethin’ to be admired.”
Your heart sank at his words, if only he knew how dishonest you were being. “And if I accept this collaboration, well it’d be a downright honor to work side by side with ya if I’d be so privileged,” you looked at him with disbelief. It faded after a few moments, and you glanced away. “Oh, uh...” What should you even say to that?
“Thanks?” Yeah, thanking him was better than nothing. “Heh, heh. The pleasure is mine,” he replied with a smile, and you gave a forced one in return. It was sad to think that such a smile fooled thousands of people every day.
Taishiro knitted his eyebrows almost as if he sensed something was wrong and opened his mouth, but at that moment the waitress returned, placing the food on the table and you sighed in relief. Grabbing a yakitori, you greedily tore off a chunk like an animal tearing into a fresh kill.
While he looked on in amusement, you hummed in approval and licked your lips. “Heh, guessin’ it’s good eatin’, don’t mind if I do,” he said, reaching over to take a yakitori. A minute later, you both had your plates piled high and exchanged a few words as you ate your fill.
“Ah, that food was pretty tasty!” he said with a chuckle, patting his stomach. You nodded, leaning back against your seat when the waitress came with the bill. “Hm?” Taishiro sat up and was about to reach across the table to look at it, but you snatched it away.
You placed it on your lap before pulling out your credit card. “Pardon,” he said as you tucked your card into the check presenter’s plastic sleeve. “Yes?” you replied, looking at him. “Are ya intendin’ to pay for this meal?” he asked, and his voice reflected a slight suspicion and uncertainty.
“Is that a problem?” you replied with a smirk. “Well now, I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I expected ya to pay,” he said, but you shrugged. “I’m paying,” you replied, your tone firm and your voice deep to make sure he knew there was no room for argument.
As you handed the check presenter to the waitress, you looked at him and said, “Consider it a welcoming present and a thank you for collaborating with The Public Modeling Commission.” You gave him yet another sweet but fake smile.
He frowned when he saw it but decided not to address it now. “Well, thank ya kindly but next time, the meals on me,” he stated. You were caught off guard by his words. “Next time?” You muttered under your breath but knew not to overthink it.
Most likely, he was just being polite. Before walking out of the restaurant with him, you ensured everything was correct and put your credit card away. It was less cluttered on the sidewalk, but people still walked along it.
More than likely they were heading home after a long day’s work. You noticed the signs you passed by earlier looked brighter than before. This was especially evident considering the sky was now painted black and only a few stars were visible. 
Taishiro noticed a genuine smile on your face as you looked up at the sky, and he wanted to tell you to only smile when you mean it. At the same time, he knew that you must have had your reasons for that fake smile. “Heh,” he chuckled, catching your attention.
“What?” you asked, and he shook his head, his eyes lingering on you. “Nothing, I just…” He paused and rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his already messy blond hair around. “I wanted to apologize for my earlier comment again and-” you waved his words off.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you said as you walked down the sidewalk. “That’s the reaction most models who actually eat and are friendly get. We break the illusion society holds over us. That we’re perfect little porcelain dolls,” you explained before looking up at the sky again.
“Some of us are lucky enough to be broken porcelain dolls,” you joked, a bit of a dark joke at that but still you chuckled. As Taishiro followed you, he apologized to the few people he ran into and those who stepped around to avoid him.
“Is that right?” He replied before holding back his breath. “Well,” he reached over, laying his hand on your shoulder and making you pause. “Hm?” You turned, looking at him with curiosity and something about that expression made his heart leap.
“Uh,” for a moment he forgot what he wanted to say. “Oh!” He laughed. “As far as porcelain dolls go. I gotta say if I were the collector type, I’d buy a dozen of ya ‘cause I can’t get enough of your sweet self!” His comment made you snicker.
“Right,” you replied dryly and resumed walking, and he followed right behind you. “So, the party should be just about over by now,” you informed him. “Oh?” He smiled. He was happy he got to spend time with you instead of remaining at the party so there was no sadness in knowing it was over.
“Yeah,” you replied, trying not to let silence fill the space between the two of you. “So do you live far from here?” You asked. “Heh, I live back in good ol’ Esuha City,” you nodded. “Near your agency I assume. Good thinking,” you commented, “must be nice.”
“Well, city life ain’t for most. Truth be told, I’d be just as content livin’ in one of the rural areas. Of course, then I’d miss out on all the great food the city has to offer,” he said laughing. You smirked, “Yeah…the city has some excellent food,” enough to satisfy you anyway.
Glancing ahead, you could see the building where the party was being held. There were also a few people walking out and several cars pulling out onto the street. “So did you drive here?” you asked, ignoring the chill of the air against your cheeks, which were slowly turning red.
“Nah, I don’t do much drivin’. Heh, but I have a ride. Don’t ya be worryin’ about lil’ ol’ me now,” he teased, gently nudging you with his elbow. “Heh,” you chuckled and felt relieved when you were finally in front of the semi-empty building.
While your back was turned to it, you felt eyes on you, and you assumed said eyes belonged to Madam President. Somehow, she always kept tabs on you, and if not her, then someone close to her did. To put it simply, you were never actually alone.
Every move you made had to be calculated perfectly, but sometimes you didn’t care about the consequences of your actions, maybe that made you rebellious. You weren’t sure. However, most would advise against angering Madam President.
Despite this, you and your colleague made a game out of it. Come to think of it, it’s strange that Madam President didn't send him to do this job. Who knows, maybe she thought Taishiro would be more drawn to you? Regardless, you knew you would find out later.
“So, I guess this is goodnight. That dinner was delicious, we must do it again sometime,” you said, putting on your most optimistic smile. His face twisted with uncertainty and before you could react, he grabbed your hands and cradled them.
First, he put his hand over yours during dinner, and now this. “I’d like that, if ya don’t mind bein’ seen with a big fella like me again. Havin’ dinner or just spendin’ time with ya again would be a pleasure,” he said, smiling at you and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.
“Hmm,” Madam President’s eyes remained fixed on you and Taishiro. “What on Earth is going on…” she muttered, her words dripping with suspicion. “I’m sure everything is fine…” Yokumiru said, ignoring her glare. “I agree!” Keigo announced as he entered the room.
His feathery ash hair was slicked back, highlighting his yellow eyes adorned with triangular tattoos on the top corners and tear ducts. He wore a black and red suit that almost appeared to have some sort of shimmer to it, and he had a faint amount of stubble on his chin.
He smirked as he walked over and plopped onto the couch. “Takami…” Madam President growled but did not remove her eyes from you nor Taishiro. “Aw, come on there Madam President. I know I left my post early, but hey…it looks like you didn’t need hawk eyes on Y/n after all.”
Like you, Keigo often carried out Madam President’s orders which consisted mostly of keeping tabs on the others she sent out. Like a supervisor, but undetected. “I mean sure, I could have done the job just as well,” he stated, placing his hands behind his head.
He lay back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. “But Y/n has that certain genuine charm people seem to like, and besides Toyomitsu seemed pretty smitten with them, so didn’t think I needed to observe any longer,” he explained.
He could sense tension in the air. More than likely Madam President was angered because he technically disobeyed her order. However, no harm was done, and he wasn’t scared of what she might do. She had no one better than him, apart from you, that is.
“I hope to see ya again real soon, alright?” Taishiro squeezed your hands gently before releasing them, turning, and walking away. As you watched him disappear, you felt your hands tingle and a strange feeling of warmth wash over you.
But your moment was interrupted when you heard someone clear their throat. You sighed and turned to face her after shaking your head to clear your thoughts. “Madam President,” you replied nonchalantly. She crossed her arms. “Report,” she stated, and you sighed again.
“Right, straight to that, huh?” You replied, placing one hand on your hip. “He agreed to collaborate with our agency. There’s no changing his mind,” you said. “Ensure it remains that way,” she ordered before turning back toward the building and walking away.
“Suuuuuure,” you replied half-heartedly before placing your hand on your chest, feeling the unusual speedy pace of your heart. The last time you received physical affection and talked to someone who seemed genuinely interested in you instead of your career was a long time ago.
But Taishiro...the way he looked and spoke to you. Well, it was different than what you were used to. He was different than the others Madam President assigned you to butter up. “Mm…” you pressed a hand to your forehead.
“I must be going crazy. It’s been a long day,” you concluded, shrugging before you started toward the car that The Public Modeling Commission provided. When you approached, Untenmaru Kurumada stepped out.
He was an older man with short black hair styled up in the front and a white mustache with hints of black. On the length of his chin, white facial hair was also present. A black dress shirt and white tie complemented his dark-colored jacket that hugged his chest and waist.
Additionally, he always wore white driving gloves. Since Enji, the one he had an exclusive contract with, did not attend tonight’s event, he agreed to drive the models present because he made a living catering to models specifically.
“Hello Y/n!” he shouted enthusiastically as he opened the door. “Where are you headed!?” he asked, his voice high and loud. You replied, “I’ll head home, thank you,” and he nodded before closing the door, climbing into the driver’s seat, and starting the engine.
As the car pulled out onto the street, you looked at the black sky still adorned with those sparkling diamonds known as the stars. Then you looked down at your hands which lay motionless in your lap. You remembered Taishiro’s secure grip on them and yet again how he looked at you.
It was unlike the looks you got daily, there was just something about it that made you feel…strange. “Hm…” you knit your eyebrows. Untenmaru noticed the expression you were making when he gazed at the rearview mirror and frowned.
Despite knowing it wasn’t any of his business, he blurted out “Something wrong!?” His many years as a chauffeur gave him a great deal of insight into the challenges associated with the modeling industry, and the struggles models of your generation face.
He had known you for some time, and usually, you had a smile on your face. However, tonight it seemed someone or something had stolen it from you. Looking at him, you raised your eyebrows. Damn…shouldn't have given yourself away.
Taking a deep breath, you said, “Nothing. I’m just…I mean it’s just…” Drawing your bottom lip into your mouth, you tried to think. “I’m just worried about how well the collaboration with Toyomitsu will go. After all, this new division means a lot to The Public Modeling Commission,” you explained only to hear him huff in response.
“Is that all you kids think about!? There’s more to life than success! Even Mr. Todoroki knows that!” You hummed in response, and although he had a point, you knew he couldn’t tell that there was an enormous amount of guilt weighing your heart down.
When you think about it, Madam President would likely assign you or Keigo to show Taishiro the ropes before the big collaboration debut. Your fingers curled into the fabric of your pants. You could only imagine how chaotic that would be.
In addition, despite your best efforts to tell yourself this was only business, Taishiro Toyomitsu, made your stomach churn with butterflies which was an unusual and furthermore, unwanted reaction that you had to get under control before your next meeting with him.fau
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maneaterwithtail · 8 months ago
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Did Elf Senshi Change or Not
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Figured post character development, at the least result of red dragon, use his mithril knife. Maybe tear clothes to make cloth shield
I realize the gag is supposed to make him super duper p**** looking While still committing to the same bit of just standing there and being archetypical even to a goofy degree just elegant Alf as opposed to doofy dwarf
The problem is you have to turn off every other aspect of his personality and behavior in order to get the gag to work to the extreme it goes to
And as even more so in the episodic presentation but especially what came before you figure he would be all about committing himself to a pragmatic solution for his current predicament and group utility.
OK sure not carrying his PAN because it's too heavy for him. so why isn't he carrying anything else that can cook or keep food abd provide safety with or make sure he's armed because he definitely knows how dangerous the dungeon is and how critical it is to have some sort of tool in order to affect violence that might be necessary for living
Contrast and compare say how he introduced the golems to how he's handling the gargoils
Now it's understandable, the gargoyles are new and the golems are known and familiar
And it was pointed out he has a tendency to use his weapons in such a way that he runs them down as opposed to keeps them in the best condition. the exception being his cooking implements which he treasures immensely which might be due to his own single focus on cooking or the fact that you know they're ancestral keepsakes from the closest thing he has to family and the only property he's probably had most of his life
Which is strike 2 on the whole him just leaving the PAN behind because he's kept it with him for literally decades at this point so it's too heavy that's why I left it seems an odd decision (empty and all carrying make more sense)
Having his knife on hand makes perfect sense because a knife is incredibly practical tool that you can use in a variety of situations that are likely to come up especially in combat exploration or survival situations
To be fair that is a knife that he seems to reserve almost exclusively for elements of cooking or at least did until the dragon situation. So naturally at this time it should be readily available for him. Especially as he's just recommitted himself utterly and completely to the good of the group.
And the previous incident had him more or less coming clean and being more open.
so if the issue is " I don't know how to fight without my normal strength and tools" you think he would express this at some point to his leader so that that way he's prepared or ask what to do next when it comes up.
The implication is when he's been Blunt before yes he is doing so but it's also with an unspoken level of communication based on instruction and cooperation such as the incident with the shiki Gami
There 3 members of the party effectively coordinated an attack that was able to come together. With the implication that if not exactly planned this, he knew how to act in conjunction with his friends
Again all of this disappears when he becomes an elf. he apparently loses all sense of unity with the party that he's remarkably been able to work alongside and definitely has been developing this rapport about
He doesn't communicate critical information that would be relevant to ongoing practical concerns nor is he prepared for a likely upcoming practical concern
And he betrays his own limited Arbitrary but established stubbornness such as With regards to keep sakes or sticking to a certain lifestyle or collection even if it's Deviant from his race or others expectation
Simply put Senshi has been surviving in the dungeon on practical terms for very good reasons for a very long time.
I can understand why for instance he could walk around with a broken axe until he got to the point where he could replace it either from a corpse or earning enough coin to go into town and buy one
I could understand for instance him leaving his equipment in one place and then coming back to it later if believe it's critical for his own safety or recovery
None of these apply here and more importantly the party knowing it's roles and how to be armed and what to expect is absolutely critical. so much so that this first off not being taken care of in a passport or between scene is already a bit dubious. We see scenes of them dressing and of them basically rearranging to the circumstances as they are
For instance it makes sense to me that Marcel fired a magic shot even though she doesn't have as much in the tank. it's established very early on how much she is all about and prides herself on magic as well as can often overlook practical concerns and practice and also the realities of things that she might know intellectually but is unfamiliar with in practice.
That's in fact her very constant gag! Though they definitely find new ways to explore that. just the previous episode, for instance, in terms of making familiars As well as designing how to maximize their use
So she keeps hold of her staff, because that's her item. the only one experienced in order to use it especially now, and she instinctively uses too much magic because that's her first instinct at almost all times but then due to a recent disability she has not adjusted to she's taken out of the fight as a direct result
The same as when lios tires out in mid fight. he's gotten used to the strength. so he naturally assumes that that's going to come with stamina only to realize, especially in a fight, that's not the case. but he's only recently had this body and recently addressed its physical realities and this is the first major physical confrontation he's had.
but note he still has armor and he still has a weapon
Chilchuk - I think this is missing in the actual episode z but he just comments how weird his senses feel and when he sticks to his normal strategy of run like hell and hide in a corner. it doesn't work explicitly because he's so big and probably draws greater agro now or nit used to running in this body with these senses
It also makes sense he doesn't compensate for it. he's been established as someone who doesn't regularly fight. the one skill in fighting he's started to establish as firing arrows. I don't think he actually had the bow and Arrows available. and he was up against Stone monsters this time. so understandably didn't even bother to try. especially in a situation that was unfamiliar to him. he's been established as - I don't want to say cowardly but definitely does not stick his neck out unless he absolutely has to though he will try to save someone if they are in danger **which is something we actually see him do**
Nstsumi has a tendency to go on a bit of a feral attack given Traits of animal instincts as a result of her own modification. Hers is arguably the biggest change but 1, she is less established so there is more leeway. 2, we are literally given a reason for it right when it happens. new animal, new instincts. so she doesn't know how to control or respond to them. So she has to be worked around on that level. It's a major change but it's also a major change that's the focus on the scene and folks working on it
But Senshi's there's this major change but then he says there isn't one which doesn't hold up. To be fair he did do the " stand there and look hot "during a battle one time. specifically the Fallon chimera. but even that 1 kind of made sense, because there were Multiple other fighters and he did have a strategy at hand.
'Appease the leader who was threatening the group by having the meal prepared.' it was a weird strategy but again it falls within the 2 sort of obsessions that he's known for and sticks to stubbornly.
Also the threat before then was that the mixed party would basically start fighting each other and in fact a fight had nearly broken out before the chimera attack and he was already doing that so he just didn't change course in order to attack what was already being addressed or at the very least stay out of the way so that he didn't ruin the one strategy he did have when the very attack ran the risk of reigniting interparty conflict
It was certainly Blunt and stubborn and arbitrary but it wasn't thoughtless or Without group concern.
So yeah I do think the transformation in terms of practical effect had way more of a change than I think even he is willing to admit. To be Fair reading his diary versus watching him in a narrative you get the sense yeah you get inside on what he's thinking but you also realize the way he's thinking doesn't necessarily reflect all that's true even in regard to just himself
As an example, the entire hypogriff soup entry is remarkably very truncated and doesn't explain a lot of what's going on
In fact they're surprisingly amount of stuff he glosses over in terms of what he thinks of as relevant or worth noting or reminding himself about
Which hits at a much more mired or thick headed psyche than one might think as opposed to project a deeper wiser one.
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noowayybroo · 2 years ago
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Bite Shift (Part 1) (ignore my bad names)
Characters: GN!Vampire!Reader, Corrupt Cop!Leon Kennedy
Warnings: Blood, Mentions of Assault + Violence, GN!Vampire!Reader, Corrupt Cop!Leon Kennedy. Mentions of / attempted non-con, biting n vampires n stuff (NSFW for violence's sake), Reader is AGAIN GN for purpose of inclusivity! None of the reader's age, job title, gender or appearances described also.
This fic is not for the faint of heart holy flip and Leon WILL get hurt in it. Leon is entirely inspired by @lipglossanon's Corrupt Cop Leon character and Character.ai Bot which are amazing n you should go look NOW!
FORGET THIS POST, JUST LEAVE!
In this fic, Our dirty little evil Leon will offer the reader a ride home (Out of the blackness in his heart), but instead of returning the Reader home, will attempt to have his way with them. Little does Leon know, the reader is a frickin' vampire, and absolutely makes him pay. I'm not a huge fan of Leon being anything but sweet, but here we get to make him pay!!! So rejoice!
I'm keeping this short as hell cuz I don't love the idea and I don't know what to do or how to take it seriously... Sorry!
It's 7:16pm (Oddly specific, I know) and you're making your way home along a main road by foot. It's been a busy day and everyone's seemed to have had some sort of issue, either with you or for you to resolve. You do love your job, you do, but waiting for it to get dark enough for you to head home without feeling uncomfortable under the sun's rays often gets... mundane.
The rain is pouring down through closely-knitted dark clouds, splattering heavily onto the road and pavement around you. This morning, much to your displeasure, the sky was bright and blue, not a speck of white nor grey against it. That leaves you, now, entirely unprepared. You hurry along the fairly busy road, holding the collar of your coat up firmly, trying to pull it to a close above your head with both hands. Otherwise, your mind is pleasantly empty, despite being preoccupied with your minor inconvenience.
The rhythm at which cars pass you on your 25 minute-or-so walk is comforting, and you often find yourself keeping tally of the quantities of each make you can see, or how many pass you, travelling in the same direction as you or otherwise. The drivers of each bicycle, motorcycle, car and lorry are fairly well-mannered, and whilst it has happened to you in the past, nobody's splashed you today... yet.
Admittedly, it'd have been nice to have brought an umbrella with you, for the sake of your own appearance and dignity. Overall though, it felt quite good to let yourself get swept up in the winds and drenched in the downpour after such an uneventful, samey day. You're around 10 minutes' walk from your home when you hear a car slow beside you. You worry for a second - perhaps it was someone looking for directions? Perhaps it was a mugging? (though it'd never happened to you, there was always the possibility.) Whatever it was, there were no turnings nearby, so it was certainly odd enough to notice by sound alone.
You turn on your heels and, depending on how you look at it, see something worse: A police car.
It looks brand new, as do the glittering blue eyes in the driver's seat, beaming back at you as his window rolls down. Inside the car seems to be a lone officer, pulled up quite close to the side of the road to let other traffic pass as he greets you. His long, silver hair is tousled across his face, lazily swept to the side of his young, seemingly innocent features. You wonder how he can focus on the road or on his work, having to flick or brush his mane from his view every few seconds, as he does before speaking:
"Heyy... I uhh.. I couldn't help but notice you walking alone in this rain, are you- do you need a lift? I can get the heaters on and we can warm you right up-", his voice is hesitant but determined, almost as though he's already decided on the outcome of this encounter. It strikes you as odd, to see a police officer patrolling these quiet roads at 7pm, but you don't mind him too much if he's keeping people safe. You stop, courteously, to hear him out and offer him a response.
"I'm alright, thanks. Just- uh... not long to go now!" You chirp reassuringly as rain dribbles down your face. You continue to walk, eager to get back home into the warm; into the dry. Whilst it may have been a little risky to be out here on your own, no attacker could be prepared for the means which you had to defend yourself, nor were you too weak to continue your walk, of which you'd already completed about 15 minutes.
The man seems taken aback somewhat, as if he'd entirely expected you to leap into his car, into his open arms, and allow him to take you wherever he'd pleased. His excitable eyes almost cutely rest on your figure, as your soggy clothes hug tightly to and weigh down on them, before he snaps himself out of his trance and gets back to pressing matters. Or rather, back to pressing you.
The low hum of his engine can be heard, as Leon begins to slowly roll alongside you, following you. His car is very close to you, probably to stay out of the way of the traffic in his lane, but it makes you feel slightly caged.
"It's absolutely pouring down, and you look like you're freezing", he persists, giving you another syrupy sweet smile. His voice has this eager edge to it; he really wants you to get in the car. You begin to have your suspicions about why he's so desperate. For a while you are silent as you keep walking alongside his car, thinking to yourself for a while about just how pure his intentions are, and what you might do about it if they're not. Meanwhile, Leon seems to be awaiting an answer. Of course, you don't yet know his name, which is suspicious, too, isn't it?
"Honestly, I don't want to trouble you sir.", you say, forcing a polite smile, although your slightly fearful and more so annoyed emotion shows in your raised brows and the twitch in the corner of your lips. "It's just about 5 minutes' down", you motion ahead vaguely.
Just when you think you've shook him, the officer's eyes light up - he's had an idea. You and Leon hadn't gotten off on the right foot, to say the least, and so you could only dread what his incessant mind had concocted. Meanwhile, you avoid eye contact, and continue to walk, picking up the pace slightly.
"Really?? I live that way too! I've just gotten off work, you see, and...", hm, sounds innocent enough, you think. "I'd hate for something to happen to you.", you hear him say, trailing behind you a little now as he leans from his window. Yep... There it was.
Whilst his voice is chirpy and innocent, his words certainly are not. They're laced with some kind of dark intention, or at least thoughts of such, and you find yourself wondering just what this man was up to. Seeing you being clearly quite taken-aback, Leon quickly spots his mistake and attempts to make amends: "I-I mean, I'm new on this job, right?? But the horrors- the things I've seen... There's... There's horrible people out there." He looks around, enacting scanning your surroundings for said 'horrible people', further trying to sell you his lie through his shaky voice.
All you can think of really is how easily someone else might've fallen for this, or been coerced into following the cop's orders. Here's where you become curious now: What exactly is he planning? Furthermore, how many people has he done this to? Were you his first? In truth, that would be very, very unfortunate for him. Would you be able to feed-
Your thoughts are abruptly halted has his car swerves in front of you, cutting you off as he stares at you through that window still. He's barely been able to take his eyes off of you. He's been studying you, examining you, he's trying to calculate how and when to pounce. His car has cut off your walk-way pretty definitely. If you want to get around him, it'll take about a minute of trudging up a grassy bank, or coming face to face with a relentless stream of cars. Knowing this, Leon looks victorious, he seems to think he's won.
What was his prize, though? At this point, you were quite disgusted by the man before you. Sure, he was cute, perhaps hot if you milked your imagination hard enough, but he was pressuring you, and perhaps others, and his intentions just seemed... off.
People who can't take 'no' for an answer...
Yucky...
You weren't sure if you were really planning to feed on him tonight, or if it was your curiosity and the slight burning rage growing within you, but you decided to hop on board. Slowly, reluctantly, you go to open Leon's front passenger door, leaving him gleefully grinning. You can almost read the "I did it, I actually did it!" on the front page of his mind. ...This as well as other thoughts he might be having as his eyes remain trained on you and your body as you climb in and remove your coat, leaving it on the floor before buckling up which earns you a giggle from him.
"It's alright, No worries about the coat" Leon smiles honestly, turning on his heating as promised to warm you up as he begins to drive again. He wears a warm smile as he continues down the road, giddy, like a child who's just stolen candy and gotten away with it. Behind that smile, there's something a little more black and calculating. He seems sly, proud of himself and disingenuous.
You look away, attempting to give him the silent treatment for the most part, signalling towards your clear discomfort. Even then, when you do steal glances at your 50/50 hero or captor, you avoid eye contact. As you sit there, arms folded, gazing out of your rain-besieged window, Leon attempts to make small-talk, including telling you his name: 'Officer Leon Kennedy', as he seemingly feels more confident now.
You do not wonder why.
Leon tells you he's going to continue down the road, and asks you to let him know if he needs to make a turning or pull over to get to yours. Once you've nodded in agreement, he asks you about your personal life, what job you work, whether you're studying, if you live with anyone, and how long you've lived in the area, for some examples. A lot of information for the short ride, but a lot of time's left for him due to the short, curt nature of your answers. You address him with a polite smile each time though and it works, he doesn't seem to mind.
He seems nice enough, you think as you watch your apartment approach over the horizon gradually. You prepare to let him know to stop.
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Guess who just discovered the small text feature!! This guy!
I've noticed also a lot of RE fics are written in American English, with American English phrases! I'm not sure if you've figured, but I tend to have a more Bri'sh approach! I hope this is ok! <3
Many thanks again for reading my nonsense! Ily! I decided to separate this in parts cuz I'm boutta go sleep and if any of you guys read this and like it maybe I can get a gauge if I should actually continue or not or how I should go about doing that
My plan ultimately for the next part is as follows:
-Reader tells Leon their stop is soon
-Leon says nothing n ignores Reader
-Leon drives reader to sussy quiet place
-Leon attempts to have way with Reader
-Reader absolutely does not take that for an answer
-Someone's neck gets nommed and let me tell you he won't be a happy boy
If you like this fic, PLEASE go and look at @lipglossanon Like 100% inspired by them + really good place to go if you like Leon trust me <3
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yoinkschief · 8 months ago
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What’s your general HCs for the fellas ? (Identity, race, sexuality etc)
Whooaagh, that's gonna be a long list, I have a ton of like small headcanons for them that mean like absolutely nothing, but I'll try to keep it to a simple list
Just quickly though:
I HC them all to be generally around 27/28 and in their late 30's/early 40's during WTFuture/in the future,, there was no real way to put that in a good list with them lol
And they're all best friends - just cause they're a group of people doesn't mean they only get to have one bestie yk, they're all super close
Also Ellsworld is canon alongside Eddsworld, they co-exist with each other
Tom - Mixed Race (Black/Irish from his mom, White/American-Hawaiian from his father - Trans Masc-Nonbinary (AMAB) He/They/(sometimes)It (It/Its depends on who it is) - Bisexual (massive masculine lean) (worst taste in men EVER) - Styles his hair to look like his fathers (otherwise his hair is usually textured around the 3's,,, like 3A/3B) - Very pear shaped like his father, and hairy too lol, the alcohol certainly doesn't help with that - Wears reading glasses (later this turns into him genuinely needing a prescription,, another thing he gets from his father - he looks very similar to his mother in terms of facial features and skin tone, but has a lot of his father's aspects) - Fear of eye contact (has gotten a lot better about it now that he's an adult, but still struggles with it with people he does not like/does not know) - Autistic - 5'5" (the shortest of the ensemble) - Works at a diner while part-timing music independently - "Monster" form is man made and extremely painful to turn into (there is no way he could control it,,, in some iterations of my headcanons like in different stories there are ways that he can have like a pact with it,,, like in my Mattsworld AU (WHICH I NEED TO POST ABOUT AUGH) he's "controlled" it a bit by making a deal with it,,, of what I haven't quite figured out yet oof) - Has quite a few tattoos on him,,, (Polynesian shark teeth on his left upper arm, cyan colored harpoon tattoos on his left side, a pinup mermaid girl on his right side, and the Nordic rune for "Wolf" on his right outer thigh) - Also he inherited his anger issues from his father as well, forgot to add that earlier with the list of things he's inherited from his old man lol - Momma's boy (/affectionately, not like he can't do anything without his mom, moreso like he really loves her a lot and obviously they're very close since they both lost Tom's father that day so for a while they were all the other had to remember him by) - Tamara is his cousin from his mother's side of the family - His first friend was Edd - His mother died when he was in highschool - father when he was in elementary, it really hit him hard (it was just before his senior year and had he not done so well the years prior he would've failed HS because of it) - Diesss ???? It's like the whole "OMG they killed Kenny" bit more than anything - like if I had to describe it, he has the Loony Toons death curse, where he dies on screen but in the next panel he's fine cause no one can actually die on a kid's show, yk ? - Tons of piercings,, mostly on his face but also in other places on his body too, though it's more like two other places other than his face area - Loves Ska music obviously, but also punk and rock, thinks artists like Destroy Boys, GRLWood,
Edd - British,,, and probably has some Italian in him somewhere, y'know like family rumors/talk of like "well I'm 1/4 Italian" or "your some odd greats grandma was Italian" that kinda thing,,, not quite sure, not curious enough to care to get some DNA test kit - Homophobic (/j) Gay, man kisser, masculine hug enjoyer, he holds hands with other boysss - On the AroAce spectrum, not really a hard no on either, just more of something he doesn't think about on a day to day basis nor really care about unless the thought is put in his head - Moles scattered across his body (not many, just one or two here and there - and none that are particularly bad or harmful) - Wears reading glasses (more specifically blue light glasses cause he's looking at a screen all day every day) - The only one of the gang that doesn't have any genuine mental disorder,,, he's got his problems sure but he's neurotypical through and through - His problems being main character and plot armor - More seriously though he has a raging hero/savior complex that gets him into a lot of trouble at times - 6' even, second tallest of the group - Very apple shaped,,, when I draw him I think very round thoughts if that makes sense - Had a major emo phase in highschool,,, he kinda snapped out of it during Senior year, or rather the summer leading up to it, but man it was wretched LOL - A child of divorce (they still made it work for him - it wasn't like they fought or it was a domestic abuse thing, they just fell out of love with each other and couldn't stand being in the same house anymore, but they love Edd so they made it work for him the best they could) - Works as an animator - professionally and freelancing ! Hard fucking order but he LOVES they process of creating art, seeing the end result is so gratifying to him and being able to see all the love and attention he put into it - Has a Youtube channel where sometimes he reviews animated movies/shows/shorts - he doesn't update it a lot, it's like a "if I feel like it" cause he only does Youtube as a hobby and as a place to hold his animation portfolio - His first friend was Matt, they've been friends since like diapers - REALLY really good friends with Tord - doesn't really know why but they are like bound by the hip - He's only got ear gauges - he doesn't try and stretch them a ton like Tom does, he's fine with just normal sized gauges that don't stretch his lobes all that much - Has a VERY BROAD music taste, anything from Lemon Demon to Oingo Boingo, to PinkPantheress, to Joey Valence & Brae, to Weird Al,,, anything under the rainbow of music genres he's probably heard one song from each - PowerEdd is canon still !! Not the superhero, but the powers he and Eduardo now suffer with lol,, but they're not really potent, his body chemistry is just kinda fucky now cause of it,,, bro glows in blacklight and sometimes just in general
Matt - British/French,,, basically he's incredibly white - Pansexual (he used to also be GenderFluid in my headcanons,,, but in the past year or so I've decided against it - he's more of just a guy who likes makeup and to wear dresses more than anything else) - Ginger with freckles, they cover his body in splotches mostly, but he's got a few individual ones here and there on his body as well (they've clustered around his face, hands, elbows, shoulders, hips, knees and like two separate patches on his back) - His hairstyle has changed so much with me over the years and it's my own damn fault lol, I don't draw him enough but that most comes with the "I don't wanna draw him wrong" thing but if I don't ever draw him how will I draw him right ?? It's a cycle is what it is - The only one with prescription glasses since middle school - he just wears contacts instead, he HATES how he looks in glasses - his parents had him get LASIK surgery to correct his vision,,, since then - His personal account where no one (except like the gang) knows it's him is very unhinged, he says some devious shit on there (it's a public Twitter account) - Also Autistic, but in a DRASTICALLY different way than Tom is, they're like opposite sides of the spectrum (Tom doesn't mask often, Matt masks like all day every day, Tom can't make eye contact, Matt makes intense eye contact, that kinda thing yk,,, even despite the fact they both have texture issues they have very different issues with textures - also Tom was very early diagnosed and Matt only got diagnosed after Tom kept pestering him to do so) - He's some kind of narcissist, just haven't been able to really pin point it down yet,, I need to do some more research on it - this could change in the future because of that so this is like a maybe canon - His father left him when he was very young like maybe 5-8 range, and his mother married his step father WAY too soon after, him and Matilda is his step sister (He HATED her at first, she tried to be very kind to him cause they're the same age and everything, and this is the first time she's had a sibling, but every time Matt looked at her all he could see was his father leaving him,,, it took until after college for them to actually grow closer as siblings and friends) -6'1" just an inch above Edd - Edd was his first friend - they've been through thick and thin together, they comforted each other when both their parents divorced, so obviously they've got a bit of a trauma bond through that, and are really the only ones who understand that kind of issue - at least in their eyes - Twink. Through and through. Despite being partially French he's got very back luck with growing hair on his body, and when he does it's thin and very lightly colored - Works as a model and "social media influencer",,, basically he's a walking propaganda poster - Has earrings, mostly wears a lot of gold - Doesn't like listening to music often,,, this hurts me to write as someone who can't NOT listen to music, but he just doesn't have a music taste,, I've mentioned before how he listens to some female rappers and other song artists like Mitski and Girl in Red, but that's only because he's listened to them on like the radio or had someone else recommend them to him, he doesn't actively listen/search for music - Still a vampire,,, er, really just half vampire ?? I'd like to think they lads did a séance of some sort on him and for the most part it worked but like Edd his chemistry is still a little fucked cause of it, y'know ? Like he's still got pointed ears and teeth, can't really do much about that, and a BIG craving for red meat and the like, but he can survive without a constant need for blood, and his skin was already sensitive to the sun anyway so there's nothing really new there
Tord - Just a Norwegian fool - Trans Masculine (AFAB) He/Him - Bisexual (with a MASSIVE fem lean,,, he IS the bad taste in men) - His hair ? Yeah that's natural - he's got some WICKED cowlicks,,, when he was younger his mom would try to brush them back to make him look more normal, but even when his hair was longer it didn't really do much for him - ADHD haver, VERY late diagnosis and still doesn't really believe it, but that's a whole lot to do with misinformation of negative dumb jargon shoved down his throat - Narcissistic Personality TRAITS, not the disorder, but TRAITS of the disorder (as in he doesn't actively have the mind set and intentions of people with NPD, but he does have the mannerisms and habits of one,, but that's because of how he was raised by two Narcissists - it's a damn miracle he doesn't have the disorder, but either way he's gotta go to therapy about it,,, and he will,,,,,, eventually,,,,,,,,, after you drag him there by his hair but I mean he'll be there) - Tattoos on him as well (Left shoulder to a half sleeve of a snake, tramp stamp of Ouroboros, and between his shoulder blades beneath the back of his neck is Jason Voorhees' mask) - Can not regulate or understand his emotions,,, the only way he really knows how to deal with intense emotions of any kind is through very physical and aggressive means,, it's why him and Tom get into so many spats, but mostly cause Tom doesn't put up with his bullshit as someone who is very good at reading and understanding his own and others' emotions - Bro's got a very broad chest,, he's like incredibly male passing, even before having gone on Testosterone - Redditor. Sorry I don't make the rules except I do and he's a Redditor. - Also has an Instagram account and it's all thirst traps,,, and I'm torn between how much interaction he'd get on them,,, like I wanna say he gets none because he's a damn loser weebcell dorklord, but I've also seen how EW fandom craves him and that makes me think that this would be no different, ykwim ?,, sigh,, realistically speaking he would get a lot of interaction with his posts and I hate that for him I hope something bad happens to him - Technically Tom was his first friend (??) in the sense that Tom was the first person he met in highschool and was the one he talked to the most during then,, at least when Tom's life was stable, it gets kinda iffy after Tom's mom died and that's where the first part of their rift really started - But him and Edd and SUPER close, despite Tom being his first friend, Edd and him just click REALLY well - Has a similar death thing like Tom, except his is more of like the anime death curse - if he dies off screen, no the fuck he did not, he is coming back as the villain - LOVES Twenty One Pilots, favorite band of all time, usually he's not a die hard for a lot of things, but TOP is one of them, he also likes poprock/poppunk, things like that, think like Imagine Dragons and Mindless Self Indulgence (YES THEY'RE TERRIBLE I KNOW, LOOK AT WHO'S LISTENING TO THEM AND GET BACK TO ME ABOUT IT) but he also listens to hyperpop like S3RL and Machine Girl, but that's just cause of all the base it usually has - that's like background music for him to work to
That's pretty much all I can think of off the top of my head of just general thoughts for them,,, I'm sure I could think of more specific ones but then we'd be here all day
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aibouart · 7 months ago
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admittedly, i am afraid to talk about this, but have wanted to for a long while. i don't see a lot of people discuss this kind of thing, but i decided to do so for the me who was struggling and didn't know. also i have no idea where i am going with this and it's very late for me rn so here's a whole ass ramble on vent art. and also a bit more on how it's impacting how i view my art, now. i am terribly sorry if it's not very cohesive, my thoughts on it aren't yet cohesive either WOOPS
i wanted to talk a bit about how vent art really impacted my mental health, and how the idea that art needs some kind of meaning to have meaning really has been weighing on me lately (i know this is a concept i am assigning to my work and is not actually the norm/standard expectation of others consuming art. but it IS a sentiment i have seen enough that does impact me).
i want to specify, obviously i am not saying vent art is bad.
nor that doing vent pieces, or vent blogs, will ultimately result in what i went through for a number of years. rather, that this did happen to me, and there is a near impossible chance i am a unique case in any experience i will ever have. if you do vent art and it helps you, that's good! im not judging anyone for anything here. if your experience does not match my own, that's what it's like to be human~. i am not invalidating anyone on purpose by sharing my own experience. sorry for the insane disclaimer but it will eat me alive if i go to sleep thinking "what if they think x cuz i didn't say y and think im a terrible person"
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i used to do vent art frequently (you won't find much on here as it was uploaded to a personal at the time). anytime i felt down or had a line of dialogue in my head making me feel bad in a way, i would draw for it. but the way i had interacted with it was really unhealthy. it became a terrible feedback loop where i'd feel bad, draw how i felt bad, look at the art, and ruminate even more on how i felt bad, until it spiralled so out of control i would lose touch with reality and get lost entirely in feeling like garbage.
i would just get so lost in the cycle with vent art that it would make my mental space worse and worse, and i would use the vent art as a negative confirmation bias. the words that hurt me i wrote down and anytime i looked again, they would hurt me again. but i would keep looking, and i would keep drawing.
i have always used art as an outlet, but for some reason the way vent art impacted me was unhealthy. it wasn't a good outlet. and it took me years to cut ties with it. i relied on vent art for a long time, but it took a lot of introspection and thinking to realise it wasn't the release i thought it was. and it was hard to let go, too.
i haven't touched the blog in a few months, now. i haven't done much vent art at all since then and genuinely, i've been doing SOOO much better. i no longer ruminate nearly as much as i had done so, i no longer get caught in a feedback loop that lasts for days to weeks. i still feel like garbage like people tend to do, but i don't put myself in a cycle over it anymore. i have gone back to it a few times in moments of desperation, but what used to be every week/every few weeks is now once a month maybe. and not to the extent at all (i would oftentimes post ~20 images in one night, before).
but i keep thinking about how, while the way i had done vent art was bad for my mental health, i keep feeling that just because i do sparkly cute and happy drawings, now, or drawings with no real meaning, that my art has nothing beyond face value... i do like a lot of my vent art. i think their compositions, or hidden messages and meanings, or colour use, was interesting.
but it wasn't worth the price for me.
so i am a bit caught in an in-between, here. my favourite form of art is the expression of love-you liked something so much, you dedicated time to draw it. and yet i cannot ascribe that to my own work very often. i think that man i wish i could make art with some kind of deeper meaning, that speaks to people, that's more than just pretty colours or shiny shading or a character everyone likes, or a character i like. but i just... don't know if it's for me.
ultimately, i could develop a healthy relationship with expressing and exploring negative emotions or experiences through art, but... do i want to? do i have to? do i need to? is it not enough to just draw something because... i like it..?
of course, the answer is yes, draw what you want, draw how you want, it's your art. but i am still trying to come to terms with that idea. i dont want to be seen as some shallow artist who just draws what's cute and pretty because they can and it's all they can think of, but like what if that's just what i like to draw??
in the end, that alone is good enough, drawing because you like to, because it's fun, because you like the thing you're dedicating time to creating for. it's just hard to grapple with after discarding a type of art that i felt was the only way i drew "for real".
anyways i am sorry this is soooo fucking long, and for all the clarifications (IM STILL NOT SAYING VENT ART BAD AND EVERYONE WILL DO WHAT I DID!! Dx) and the fact i had no real point here (probably)
anyways i will continue to draw what i want because i like to, as i have always been.
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coinandcandle · 1 year ago
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Coin's Personal Paradigms!
Aka “How magic works to me.”
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Yesterday I posted "Paradigm Time! - What is a Paradigm?", today I'm going to share some of mine! They are subject to change as my #1 paradigm is "magic is fluid" lol.
Keep in mind that these are personal paradigms and I am not claiming that they’re universal. My experience is likely different than yours.
Energy can be used from within yourself or from outside of yourself. While using your own energy will tire you out sooner, ultimately doing enough of either will be exhausting. Like, you can blow up a balloon with your lungs or you can use a pump. Of course, you’ll tire out quicker using your lungs, but eventually holding the pump will be tiring too.
Gods and spirits are not good or evil, they hold moral codes but unless you’re literally asking them what it is you won’t know. Just like anything, morality differs based on culture, time, and beliefs.
Gods and spirits are not ingredients and shouldn’t be treated as such, but they likely won’t be mad if you pray to them once or twice to help you with a spell. Need help getting to sleep? Pray to Hypnos, leave an offering maybe, he’s not gunna smite you just cuz you don’t always work together.
Energy is the battery of magic. Magic is the change caused by whatever you’re doing but energy is what powers that change, be it a spell, prayer, whatever.
There are different types of energy, or rather everything that has energy may feel a bit different. Kinda like how everyone has different fingerprints. Yours may look similar to another person’s but ultimately they’re different.
Thinking or focusing on your intent in your head is fine, writing it down is better, speaking it aloud is best. This could just be due to my ADHD but I almost always have to say my intent aloud otherwise I can’t actually focus on it. Either way, I have more success time and time again when I say things out loud vs thinking them.
Inanimate objects don’t have spirits, they may however have “essence”.
Plants, fungi, and mosses don’t have spirits in the same way that animals and humans do. It’s more like there is one overarching archetypal “Big Spirit” that holds power and all of the versions of that thing are tied to it. For example, I don’t think every sprig of basil has a spirit, but I do think that there is some sort of spirit-like entity that reigns over all basil, though it’s not sentient in a way that I could comprehend.
There are multiple planes of existence (though I don’t have a set amount nor am I sure I believe there is a set amount), they overlap often but none lay perfectly on top of another. Like legos and Lincoln logs. There are areas where they will fit together, but you can’t perfectly align them cuz they’re made out of different stuff.
That’s all I can think of for now! Please feel free to share your agreement, disagreement, or thoughts; and please share your own!
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chevelleneech · 4 months ago
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It being said Buck and T*mmy are still dating and getting to know each other, and Eddie feeling left out is all well and good. It’s at the least a decent start to developing something (not that I want that anymore, but still).
However, couple those words with L*u FJ having not been seen on set at all… I don’t know how much of it I’m believing will stretch behind the first three episodes. I’m not trying to give Tim credit for being sneaky or anything, and I’m still not looking to watch the premiere. I’m going to hold off, but how far under the radar can they truly fly with his filming, and why would they want to, given Buck is openly bisexual and there was a positive reaction to the relationship even with Buddies being unhappy?
There’s no reason for me to believe L*u is so beloved by Tim and ABC that they’re sneaking him on and off set. I’m not saying he can’t have “snuck” on once or twice, but again… for what reason? No one in the cast is talking about him, the behind the scenes hadn’t really posted him, and no one has spotted him on set. So how well can the relationship be going if the actor playing Buck’s boyfriend has not been seen, heard, nor mentioned anywhere near the show this season?
The only way this supposed developing relationship keeps going, is if it’s over the phone or we get it in slices where T*mmy is never actually present. As in, Buck tells Eddie he’s meeting up with T*mmy, yet we never see them together. Or we see Oliver sharing the screen with a stand-in, and we only get arial shots of them.
I guess they could always be indoors. In a car or something, but idk. Something is very fishy. Tim and co either managed to slip that man on and off set for weeks, or they’re talking around a quick breakup. Because “getting to know each other” and “not much time has passed” equals Buck and T*mmy don’t know each other enough to have developed a deep connection. Which allows writers to write both an attempt for Buck to make it work and a breakup within the first 3-5 episodes without making the general audience feel like it ended abruptly or was pointless.
Buddie may not happen even if Eddie comes out this season, but if they do want to get rid of T*mmy, I will admit I can see them doing it this way. It would avoid starting the season with Buck being single yet again (which truly would not be an issue if they didn’t try shoving him with a woman every damn season in earlier seasons), but also give BT stans a little food. Make Buck try and want it to work, but ultimately have it fail. That also tells general audiences who are neutral about him “suddenly” being “gay” that he is serious about wanting to date men, but couldn’t make it work with the first one he dated.
Whether or not Buddie will be a result? I don’t know, but I can’t say I’m on team hopeful, lol. I think this is the last shot, and unless they cast partners for Buck and Eddie that knock it out of the fucking park in terms of chemistry, I do not see s8 being the place to start anew yet again. So Buddie really and truly makes the most sense if Buck and T*mmy breakup and Eddie comes out. Main characters getting together is tv normalcy.
There isn’t a single show or film in history where the mains don’t end up together, that’s why they’re mains. And if they wanted an outside relationship, T*mmy unfortunately is the only other choice outside of Josh, because he’s already here. So they either gotta make T*mmy worth the choice to not have Buddie, or they make Buck single and have Josh and Eddie randomly get together. Which would lows be just as unnecessary as BT, but at least Josh is likable.
Anyway, that’s my 5¢. They’re either setting BT up to be roadkill, or they did somehow manage to sneak that man on set for weeks, thus cementing the implication he will become an important character. Because again, there is no reason a recurring love interest is important enough to hide on set, just because he’s unliked by some fans. They didn’t do that with Edy, and people wanted her head on a fucking spike.
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sui-imi · 1 year ago
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100 Facts About UnderEats!Sans (aka Roo)
I posted these on twitter, but decided I should also post them here for everyone o/
Facts below the cut!
WARNING: it's. really long.
1. UnderEats!Sans is nicknamed 'Roo'. This is a shortened version of 'Deliveroo'. I chose it because the AU's name was already based on 'Uber Eats' and wanted to keep the theme relevance.
2. Roo originates from a Horrortale timeline variant. It was destroyed before he left to meet with Undyne, meaning his skull was never shattered, nor his eye taken. (Horrortale belongs to sour-apple-studios)
3. He's 4'4" / 132cm tall. He's not insecure about his height, but he doesn't like how tall everyone else is…
4. Since his timeline's gone, Roo's homeless. He'll either stay at Arbiter's store, nap in a random AU, or pay for an inn somewhere.
5. He works as a multiversal food delivery driver. His job is to collect food from various restaurants across the Multiverse, then use his AU-hopping moped to instantly transport the food to the customer's AU/address. (... its just uber eats but in undertale)
6. He's not supposed to, but if you bribe him with cash or food (anything with BBQ in it), he'll give you a free ride to another AU. He can be bribed to do other things, also. but only for cold, hard, cash. (and nothing inappropriate)
7. In his timeline, he spent a lot of time raising morale, handling rations and thinking of solutions for their food crisis. Due to this, Roo's not very lazy anymore. But he still loves to take naps.
8. He's extremely nervous around other Alphys', after seeing her stare at him so intensely, and hearing her plan from the echo flowers. He's okay around Swapped Alphys'. Usually.
9. He's pretty frugal, only buying food or paying for an inn room every so often.
10. He has a lot of food and snacks stored in his inventory, but not to eat. He instead hands it out to other people who might need it.
11. He can't handle high-stress/danger situations. If he can't find a solution to the problem quickly enough, he kind of. Shuts down. It results in him making very stupid decisions. Like throwing a moped at someone.
12. Due to his repeated destruction of company property, most of his pay goes towards paying off the broken bikes. It's... going to take a while to pay it off. (He's still going to keep throwing the mopeds).
13. Roo can also ride bicycles, motorbikes, and some types of cars. But he likes mopeds because they're small and easy to nap on.
14. Doesn't really use his phone outside of work purposes, so he's a bit of a social media boomer. The grimace shake trend is a horrific mystery to him. He doesn't even know what 'simp' means.
15. His magic eye LOOKS green, but it's not. It's the same blue/yellow that Classic Sans has, but it's moving so fast that it blends together to green.
16. He has the same stats as Classic Sans.
17. He still likes ketchup. He just thinks BBQ sauce is the superior condiment.
18. He's always wearing a hat, or something that covers his head. It's because he's trying to break a bad habit of scratching at his skull. Instead, he fiddles with the hat.
19. He's actually a pretty good cook! On his days off, he likes to practice.
20. His favourite place to eat is Grillby's 2 (a multiversal version of the OG). He's good friends with the Grillbys that run the place and the food is always good.
21. He has a soft spot for Grillbys and other Horrors. He's nice to them and always asking if they're good. (He's still shaken from his Grillby... 'melting'...)
22. He's one of those people that constantly complains about doing something, but still does it anyway.
23. He has an excellent memory when it comes to remembering addresses/co-ordinates to other AUs. Ask him about a specific place and chances are, he'll know where you're talking about.
24. He likes his job because it's simple. He likes simple. It means less stress. Despite being a simple job, certain customers love increasing his stress levels. T_T
25. His hands are a bit scratched up from stress-scratching. That's part of the reason why he likes to wear gloves all the time. The other part is: he just likes wearing them.
26. He doesn't like wasting food/drinks. If you make something (edible) for him, even if he doesn't want it, he'll try to eat it, just so it doesn't go to waste.
27. He's not picky with what he eats. If it's edible, he'll eat it. If it's not edible, he'll... pretend to eat it.
28. He used to be friends with a part-time worker, who was an Undyne. After certain events occured, he no longer makes friends with the other workers!
29. Roo dislikes Exec's 'don't interfere with timelines' rule. He thinks that if you can help, you should. But he also doesn't want to lose the job, so his help ends up being rather limited…
30. He hates delivering to the Doodlesphere. He has a policy in place with the Star Sanses: if he delivers and they're in the middle of a fight, they have to tip him double... he makes a lot of money delivering to the Doodlesphere.
31. Roo likes going to a random AU and taking a nap in it. Sometimes, if he's bored, he'll explore the AU a little bit. He's not supposed to be seen in AUs that aren't involved/aware of the multiverse, so he either skips them or sneaks around.
32. If he comes across a starving timeline, he'll leave behind some food. Nothing big, just enough to survive a little longer. He doesn't want Exec to become aware of his 'timeline-intefering'. (Exec already knows. But they allow it, since it doesn't really affect much.)
33. If he ever lost his job, he'd go work with Arbiter in the Condiment Hall (a convenience store that specialises in well, condiments), or go to the Omega Timeline.
34. His eye sockets are naturally 'droopy'.
35. His bones can rattle. It only happens when he's scared. It's embarrassing.
36. He drinks, but only 'socially' (AKA, if you hand him a drink, he'll drink it). He's not a lightweight. But the process of getting drunk makes him feel queasy. When he's actually drunk, he starts acting stupid.
37. He gets easily flustered/embarrassed if you give him any positive attention. When that happens, he tugs on his hat to hide his face.
38. He doesn’t like fighting. If he ends up in an encounter, he either tries to escape it, or he gets too stressed (aka goes stupid mode).
39. If someone is in trouble (and he’s ACTUALLY able to help), he’ll do his best to remove them from the situation. Don’t ask him to fight for you. He won’t.
40. He favours using blue magic in fights to keep opponents away from him/rooted in place. If that fails, he'll TP to a safe distance.
41. If his life is truly in danger, his survival instincts kick in, and he’ll fight like it’s a genocide route.
41b. His thoughts are switched ‘off’ during this. He fights automatically.
42. He has a metal pipe for joke purposes. Sometimes he’ll drop it because the sound is hilarious to him. He also uses it as an impromptu weapon.
43. The best description for Roo is that he’s Aro Ace. He has no desire for anything beyond friendship.
44. He’s lost track of his age, but he’s in his late 20s/early 30s. His birthday is the 8th of September (International Food Delivery Day)!
45. He’s fine interacting with other Papyruses, but if they show any familiarity with him, it weirds him out. (i.e: calling him 'Brother')
46. Roo misses his Papyrus, but… a part of him is glad that he’s not suffering anymore. But that kind of thinking also makes him mad... It’s a difficult subject. He doesn't like to think about it.
47. Either he’s grumpy, loud and rude (usually with difficult people). Or chill and more like a Classic (most of the time). 
47b. He’s also a very expressive skeleton. His facebones are quite flexible. (does that even make sense?)
48. Everytime he gets an order from the Bad Sanses, his day gets ten times worse. He has to start mentally planning an escape route to minimise trouble.
49. Roo feels a strange kind of survivor’s guilt when he sees other Horrors. He’s aware of how lucky he is compared to his counterparts.
50. Sometimes, he has nightmares of a Horror clawing out his eye, wanting to ‘make them match’.
51. He loves getting tips and bribes. His prices are always fair - he doesn’t like extorting people. But er, if you insist enough times, he’ll just… take it and pay it forward. (cough)
52. Roo loves antagonising Swap Papyrus. Swap Paps antagonises him back. Roo also loves getting Swap Sans to lecture Paps for antagonising him.
53. He still has the ability to Judge, and quietly checks anyone he comes across. Just as a safety precaution.
54. His mouth can open, but it usually stays shut. It only opens when he's yawning or eating something big. He can eat some things/drink without opening his mouth. How? Who knows.
55. He doesn’t enjoy science anymore, and tends to avoid it. But sometimes he sees something interesting and becomes curious.
56. There’s an Outertale Burgerpants called Burpi that he loves to antagonise. It seems he knows something embarrassing the cat monster did and holds it over his head.
57. He wears size 6 (US size) mens shoes.
58. His favourite colour is blue. But he thinks green is okay too.
59. Roo doesn’t know how to react to gifts. Half the time he thinks it’s something you want him to deliver. If you clarify, he says thanks and puts it somewhere safe. (Then he gets flustered)
60. He doesn’t really cry, except for ‘comedic situations’.
61. He used to have a habit of writing a bunch of notes on any surface he could find (especially walls). He got in a lot of trouble for it. Now he carries a small notebook around to take notes.
62. He’s not very materialistic. His moped is probably the only 'material' thing he cares about.
63. He keeps having to buy new socks because everytime he stays at an inn/at Arbiter’s place, he leaves one lying around.
64. He’s accidentally made a trash tornado in his bag, except with people’s orders.. It was very messy..
65. He’s currently learning how to bake. His favourite so far are fig rolls.
66. If there’s ever drama or a (not serious) fight going down in front of him, he’s the guy dealing out popcorn to the bystanders.
67. Whenever he’s bored, he watches some random shows. He tried to watch UnderNovela but he missed a lot of episodes, so he’s just confused.
68. Roo knows English, Common (AKA monster english), and Monster Sign Language (the monster’s version of sign)
69. In Roo’s timeline, Gaster was his brother. He can’t remember his parents.
70. He got turned into a bitty once. He refuses to talk about it, saying ‘the experience changed me…. Into a bitty, that is.’
71. One of the strangest AUs he’s visited is one where monsters were on the surface, except they were beast-like and HUGE. Not bara huge. 200ft tall huge. He finds it fascinating. Sometimes he'll go there, sit in a tree, and just watch them roam.
72. Every time he visits a random AU, he has a 50/50 chance of being dropped into the middle of something chaotic.
73. He customises his mopeds to say ‘sans’ with a bone sticker at the front. It’s so he can remember which one is his. (Lie. He just thinks it's cool)
74. He has a red friendship bracelet around his neck, given to him by Fresh!Reaper. It’s hidden by his coat most of the time. (Fresh!Reaper - @\SoftyMuii on Twitter)
75. He's sort of friends with this one Horror. They like to grab lunch together sometimes.
76. He likes to listen to other people’s puns more than making his own. Either way they make him chuckle every time, even in serious situations. (Though he tries not to laugh out of loud).
77. His favourite kind of jacket are windbreakers, which is what he wears most of the time.
78. He doesn’t care much for fashion, he just wears whatever’s comfortable (which is a shirt and shorts).
79. His favourite thing about the surface are the stars. Second is the sea. He loves the colour of the water and how calm it is.
80. When he texts, his replies are lazy and full of typos.
81. He has no idea that the lady behind the door was Toriel, queen of the monsters. In his timeline, Frisk killed her.
82. Despite napping all the time, he has trouble actually trying to sleep. He can manage 2 hours before waking up.
83. He’s a pretty light sleeper. He doesn’t fully fall asleep, still keeping some sort of awareness of his surroundings. If someone gets too close to him/makes too much noise, he’ll open his eyes.
84. Roo will generally try to follow the rules, but if they clash with his ideals, he’ll either break them, or try his best to bend the rules to his favour.
85. He’s good at keeping secrets. But that’s only because he forgets most of them after a while.
86. His bone colour is affected by how much sun he receives. They’re off-white since he’s covered up most of the time.
87. Sometimes he’ll sunbathe a little to brighten his bones. He claims it makes him feel more energetic.
88. He thinks MTT food is the worst of the worst. He won’t even pretend to eat it if someone hands him any. It’s going straight in the trash.
89. He likes white noise. Pure silence makes him agitated.
91. He's kind of apathetic. His emotions feel muted. But his reactions are still over the top.
90. Roo likes eye contact and being able to see people’s faces & facial expressions when talking to them. Having your back turned to him during a conversation bothers him.
90b. Despite this, he gets unnerved by intense staring (it reminds him of Alphys)
92. His stamina is okay, but he still gets tired out often, which is why he takes so many naps.
93. Roo doesn’t really get angry. At most he’ll get irritated or annoyed, but he doesn’t know what true anger feels like.
94. He hates troublesome customers. A part of him hopes they get food poisoning and never order again… but he won’t say that out loud.
95. He enjoys delivering to ‘peaceful’ AUs, usually ones that have already reached the surface. The customers there are usually very nice.
96. He’s a tidy person, but that’s only because he doesn’t own a lot of things to create a mess in the first place.
97. Don’t bully workers! If you’re mean to the workers at the stores, Roo will get annoyed and lecture you.
98. He feels a sense of kinship with other workers, especially multiversal workers like him. (Like Post!Sans)
99. Sometimes he works at Grillby’s 2 if they need extra help. He’s terrible at making drinks/entertaining the customers, so he just makes food in the back.
100. If it’s very hot or very cold, he can feel it. Otherwise he can’t really feel changes in temperature.
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the-bjd-community-confess · 3 months ago
Text
Mod: I'll post Anon's more recent update first, and the older confession under the break 💖 I'm glad you're feeling better now Anon!
Hey mod, if you see this, I’m the anon who confessed about my cats catching a fatal disease and it making me want to basically give up on everything like my work and my dolls.
I’m okay now and I’ve made peace with it and whatever happens I’m just gonna give my cats the best life I can in the time they’ve got. It doesn’t hurt to look at my dolls anymore, in fact, I’m anxiously anticipating the clothes I ordered them for fall/winter. I love my cats, but this was out of my control and it doesn’t have to ruin my life. Sending in that confession really helped me come to terms with the situation and get my joy back. I’m happy to say my cats are happy and my new boy likes to steal my doll wigs (which I’m not so happy about xp)
Anyway, you don’t have to post that confession, but I don’t mind if you do. If you do though, would you attach this or some kind of note letting people know I’m okay? Life happens and my refuge has always been dolls, I was just worried that I had lost that too in my sadness, but they’re still there for me after all.
Thanks for listening, and I hope you’re well!
~Anonymous
Previous confession below:
CW: pet death, pet illness, depression, rant
One of my cats died, so I got another cat so my older cat wouldn’t be lonely, but now we’ve found out that my new cat might have a deadly disease and he may have already given it to my older cat, now we have to wait 3 months to find out if either one is infected or not with no real way to prevent my older cat from being infected in the meantime if she hasn’t been already.
Before we found out I got paid for the first time in a while and bought a bunch of new doll stuff because I wanted to get my dolls fall/winter outfits as the season is changing. Slowly, the items arrive and I dress my dolls, put new eyes in because I finally bought the new eyes I wanted, but I’m just so empty.
I’m supposed to be working too, but I have no energy for that either, nor any of my non doll hobbies.
I know that even if my cats are infected they have a good chance of living another 3-5 years (according to the vet and Google) but the dread is eating me alive. Every night I have to take pills to sleep and I stare at my dolls which sit around my bed on tables and they seem so empty now. My heart hurts so much that I don’t see the light in my doll’s eyes anymore.
It’s all my fault. I wanted a new cat to help my heart heal from losing my sweet darling girl, and I may have doomed the cat I had left, not to mention I might lose the sweet baby boy I’m already so in love with.
Doll stuff came in the day we got the news and I tried so hard to enjoy it. My doll is beautiful and maybe my favorite of all of my dolls, but there’s just no joy left. I wake up every day feeling like things might be okay and I go to bed every night looking into their empty eyes and wish I could just not wake up.
Why can’t I wake up tomorrow and it be December so I can be free of this not knowing and get back to things I love again. If my cats will have shorter lives I’ll be devastated, but it’s out of my hands and I can move on and love them and get my dolls and my life back and enjoy my life again, but not knowing makes me ill and all the things that once glittered and gleamed and filled my heart with joy just seem so fucking pointless.
As if the world wasn’t already crashing down around me, why this? Why now? Why can’t I just keep moving and enjoying my work and my hobbies? I’m so fucking exhausted.
I’m sorry if this isn’t doll related enough. I just need to say this somewhere even if it’s just a void. Maybe someone here can understand the emptiness of not being able to love the one (hobby) thing you love above almost anything else (dolls, my special interest) because life starts falling apart. I think if I said this to anyone else they’d think it’s stupid to care about pieces of expensive plastic when something bad is happening to a living creature, but dolls always spark joy in me even when bad things happen, but this is just so fucked and I’m so ill that they don’t even do that anymore. I want to feel normal again. I can’t change what’s already happened, but I can’t let it go and I hate going up to my room at night and looking at my dolls because it feels like they’re judging me. I feel like a monster. I just want to feel joy and peace again.
~Anonymous
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