How would you guys feel about an “Admin” section? Like I know on kpoppantydrop they have a link to a page about the admins n stuff.
I mean to be honest our relationship of admin and follower does not span far, we just post, you like, that’s the extent- but idk if anyone would care about it? We’ve talked a lot with anons before about other things, just conversing about feelings and experiences and whatnot.
We love talking to you guys always and it’s fun answering things that sort of give us a break from our daily grind.
It’s just an idea, idk if you guys rlly care about knowing the ppl who write your nasty stories. Maybe it would help us understand each other better
I want to move to this little town, my grandpa and my 80 year old great grandma live here and although she is completely able (no one believe she’s 80) I hate that she does things by herself, I just feel like if I were here I could do her cooking, grocery shopping, running errands for her and stuff, I know she probably wouldn’t even let me but idk I just know one day I’ll want to move here to take care of her, I guess since she hit 80 I’ve really just been thinking about it, and I haven’t visited this town in almost two years, back then I would have never considered moving here but it’s funny how your perspective changes over the years.
It would be a great place to raise my daughter too.
I already know my fiancé would be on board bc he talks about how he hates atl and wants to live in the middle of nowhere all the time.
“Regardless of how people in the real world feel about this work, inside the world of this show, there will be absolutely no discrimination toward the things one loves. I will absolutely protect this world.” — Kubo Mitsurou.
so yeah, we all know that facial expressions can tell us a lot about how a character is feeling, but what if that isn’t an option? how can you make someone emote if they don’t really have standard facial features? the answer; body language.
let’s consider how emotions are conveyed on a stage production vs movie with Sweeney Todd. First, the stage play:
Note how Todd’s entire upper body goes into his gestures, how he’s single-mindedly focused on his dreams and ideals; how his hands GRAB for each imaginary ‘man’ with these sharp, aggressive, destructive movements and how that contrasts with Mrs. Lovett’s body language; how her hands linger in the air and gravitate towards Todd even after he’s pulled away, and the slow turn she gives him. It does an excellent, though exaggerated, way of conveying their relationship (her focus is on him and making him happy, his focus is entirely on revenge)
Contrast this to the movie:
Same lines in the song, much more subtle. Lovett’s eyes still track towards Todds, which reminds us she’s still more focused on the outside, but all of the emotion is in their faces. Were this not a close-up shot in a movie it’d be very, very hard to read their expressions.
While I do recommend you watch a few stage plays (in person near the back row if you can) to actually study body language for yourself or try out charades with your face covered with friends/watch how cosplayers or mascots emote, here’s a few shorthands to get you started (US-centric so expressions may vary on your region):
perfectly still - fear, intense attention, feeling under scrutiny
tilted up - recollection, intimidation (looking down nose at threat, aiming to appear taller)
at the forehead - fatigue (wiping away sweat), illness (checking self for fever, feeling a headache), realization/memory (a ‘well duh’ tap)
at the eyes - fatigue or headache (shielding eyes from light), distress (blocking out a painful view, concealing tears)
at the nose - disgust (a pinch at the nostrils,) irritation (rubbing at sore spot on nose from glasses wear)
at the mouth - nausea, surprise, repressing an emotion/stopping self from saying something
at the chin - contemplation, tiredness (face resting in hand)
rubbing back of neck - a need to relax tension, embarrassment, slight unease/desire to distract self
at the chest - surprise, self-protection (reaction to a wounding statement, sometimes used sarcastically), strong emotions (clutching at heart, could be good-strong or bad-strong), need for security (touching necklace/adjusting clothing to conceal more)
at the stomach - pain (clutching, pressing), satisfaction after a meal, protectiveness towards fetus when applicable
at the hip(s) - confidence, intimidation, nervousness (if grabbing for weapon)
at groin - concealment/unease (usually male-coded as protection of genitals), politeness (hands folded in lap)
on thighs - exhaustion (bent over, hands on legs supporting tired upper body)
formed into fists - holding back an intense emotion, preparing to fight
toying with something - restlessness (bored, nervous energy, craving something they can’t touch) or deliberate disrespect of property (playing with personal objects someone holds dear as an intimidation tactic)
at sides, relaxed - default posture
at sides, tense - unease, restraint (soldier at attention, person holding still to avoid being attacked), fear
crossed at chest - disapproval, displaying authority, unease (hugging oneself)
crossed at stomach - pain, intense laughter (caused by sore stomach muscles from laughing)
up, fingers laced behind head - confidence, relaxation
one arm on back of furniture - confidence, invitation for someone join them
general rule - the further arms are away from body, the more confident/dominant a person means to appear; exposed torso indicates that they don’t see anyone around as a threat to them
square with shoulders - professional, restraint, protective stance
wide stance, one foot a little back but planted - defensive stance, expecting to receive blows (knees may be unlocked - seen in swordplay and fencing)
weight on one leg - relaxed, tired, may also be leaning on something or pair with one ankle tucked behind the other
uneven stance - could indicate old injury
foot tapping/bouncing - boredom, nervous energy
stiff and still - fear, unease, standing to attention
limp or pliant - relaxed, tired, pleased
shoulders back/head up - alert, focused, aggressive
shoulders forward, hunched - tired, ashamed
leaning towards person - interest, intimidation (looming over them), aggression (usually paired with tense arms or hands in fists,)
leaning away from person - relaxation, confidence, disgust (recoiling)
stiff motions - fear (reactive, fight or flight), pain (reluctance to move), anger (either fighting to keep control of emotions or lashing out), cold (conservation of heat by keeping limbs near body)
cracking joints/stretching - preparing for a fight, often reading as confidence in abilities
general rule - close contact/proximity can read as intimidation (paired with tense body - an invasion of personal space) or affection (paired with relaxaed body language, gentle movement) or passion/attraction while distance can read unease/distaste/fear/dislike.
with those in mind, let’s read this scene from Red vs Blue (a personal fav of mine for body language) featuring agent texas from season 8.
So first of all, very relaxed upper body; limp arms held away from the body, which slowly come back to rest on her hips as she looks at what she’s done. Watch how her lean shifts at the end as her center of gravity shifts, and how she has to move her right leg to restabilize herself when she’s finished pushing it. This reads, in order from the start of the loop; detachment (the least amount of her body is involved in the action as possible), relaxation (smooth movements, the deliberation of those little steps backwards) and confidence (hands on hips.) We can tell a ton about this character just in this gif alone, based on her body language.
in summary! this list isn’t exhaustive, but hopefully it gives you some ideas for ways of making characters emote in fics when you can’t see their faces.
even and isak talking about how they fell in love with each other gives me so much life you guys,
one day they’re in bed and they’re just cuddling and idk the subject comes up and even casually says something like, “oh man i was falling so hard for u and u barely gave me the time of the day” and isak is like. wHAT
isak is just sO surprised when even’s like, yeah i was pretty sure u didn’t really like me.
“but?? you caught me staring at you 738935 times???”
“ah but you were so quiet and staring could really mean anything i didnt want to misinterpret it”
“but i told u about my rapping skills???”
“is that………….the best flirting you could do isak. wow. how did we even start dating.”
isak looking back at every time even bumped him with his shoulder and said something kind of cool and vague and realizing. that was flirting. even was flirting with him the whole time. i mean he knew it wasn’t friendly but he thought it was just even being charming. but nah. even was highkey hitting on him.
isak wakes up in the middle of night, grabs even by the arm. “even. wake up. did you really forget your ID or was it just a way to hang out with me.”
*groan* “yes isak it was just a way to hang out with you how did u not realize till now i swear to god. next thing u know u’ll be telling me u didnt know the only reason i made cheese toasties was so u wouldnt realize u probably should leave.”
THE CHEESE TOASTIES WERE A LIE??
isak confesses to internet stalking even, and even loVES IT. he never stops teasing isak about it tbh he’s just like “oh my god i can’t believe you were so iN LOVE with me, man, you had the bIGGEST crush on me,” and isaks just like “yeah yeah shut up at least i didnt make up a lame excuse to hang out with you. why dont u have any social media anyways?? u some sort of hipster??”
so much banter. guys. its embarrassing.
they were both so in love with each other and they BOTH thought the other wasn’t really interested what kind of fanfic bullshit is this i love them so much
he had a habit of lighting too many cigarettes, all of them stained with things he was too afraid to say out loud and things he was too afraid to make real. at night, he would sit on his window sill and watch his thoughts drift off of his tongue and disappear into the night in wisps of smoke, only the embers in the air and the stains on his hands to remember them by.
silently, he would wonder if they smoked cigarettes in heaven or if they just became ashes of words they left unspoken
Summary: During Digestivo. Hannibal prepares himself & an unconscious Will for their final conversation.
Hannibal carried him inside. Chiyoh offered to help. He was tired, after all. Frozen and bloodied, hair mopped to the side of his face, shoulders tense and stiff from having been tied back. But he refused, a silent shake of his head and Chiyoh backed away. Walked to the field, rifle in hand. He allowed himself a moment to appreciate her. How, wordlessly, she knew. This was something he must do alone.
Will lay slumped in the backseat, arms limp on the floor. Dead weight. Hannibal felt the same strain he had the night before when he carried him, though he no longer had adrenaline fueling his body. He brought Will, slow, up the steps, across the porch, over the threshold, reveling in every second of pain the twinge in his back sent lighting up his spine.
Hannibal laid Will down delicate onto his bed. Careful not to wake him with too much movement. Fearing he might break.
He’d need some time to think. Prepare. More time than Will’s body was unconsciously willing to give, so he gave two gentle flicks to the syringe, a steady gentle pressure on the plunger, and Will’s sleep took on a far more tranquil rhythm. He drifted deeper. Hannibal, finally, exhaled.
He took a step back, took a moment. Contemplated the door. It stood open behind him, winter chill seeping in through the gap. And then there was the car. Chiyoh. The ease with which he could disappear. It was, he knew, the most practical option. He could make his way to the coast and set sail, heading someplace quiet and obscure, somewhere Will would surely never find him. He’d have to leave quickly in order to get far enough. He’d have to leave now. Hannibal’s eyes, resting on the doorknob, flicked back to the bed. To Will’s pillow flattened curls, the iron streaks of dried blood along his jawline.
He shut the door quietly, though he knew Will was sedated. Nodded to Chiyoh through the window and set to work.
He took care of himself first, Will’s shower rattling to life, blood peeling off him here and there, ripping off soaking bandages. Ignoring, as best he could, the cold and awful weight inside his chest. The feeling of his lungs filling with water. Water stinging sharp against the brand on his back, the burn raw, white hot pain in every corner of his body.
Deep, drying breaths. Hannibal redressed himself, his wounds. Turned his attention to Will. He undressed him as slowly as time would allow, fingers gliding over skin with each gentle tug of fabric. Placed a cloth over what Will would not want him to see, wrestling down the urge to look. He’d never looked before and he wouldn’t now, Will was worth more than that. Although.
Hannibal sat up straight and felt, all around him, a tension. An uncomfortable air of finality. A penultimate afternoon. He looked back down at Will.
This could very well be his last chance to look. Admire.
Still, he didn’t. He did allow himself one thing, though, face in the crook of Will’s neck. A deep, slow inhale. Committing the scent to memory, locking it in its own room near the center of his mind, before he began with the water.
There were parts of Will still caked in blood from days prior, places Mason’s men hadn’t taken care of. Patches of rough blood stuck to the skin on his chest, stomach, spilt from where Hannibal had opened his head. He couldn’t deny the bizarre amusement he felt cleaning up the fallout from something he had inflicted, though of course, with Will, it wasn’t the first time. His eyes narrowed as his musings led him to the terrible realization that this would, in fact, be the last time.
Dabbing gently with warm water, watching close as beads of it rolled across Will’s hips, dripping off his waist. Hannibal changed the bandages on Will’s shoulder. Cleaned the wound across his forehead. Slow and somehow far too quick. He took his deliberate time pressing Will dry with a towel, dressed him up again in warm and comfortable clothes. Smoothing the hair across his forehead, resting his fingers against Will’s face.
He knew this would be the last time. Of course he knew. The last time his hands would grip his face. The last time he’d lay him down onto a bed. Hannibal closed his eyes and lived, for only a fraction of a second, in a world where the opposite was true. Where these actions were the first of many times.
…It was still possible. A tiny sliver of possibility rested inside Will, the chance that his journey sparked a deeper understanding of the truth of him, the truth of Hannibal. How those truths fit together.
But then there was the truth of the bullet wound in Will’s shoulder. The ugly scar across his head. The reality of their situation sat thick at the back of Hannibal’s throat, cold in his stomach.
This was the last time.
So, he cleaned up. Discarded old bandages, positioned Will comfortably, carried a chair to his bedside. Hannibal flipped to a new page in his journal, pausing to open the levy, let icy dread flood through his veins and into his pen. Worked, diligent, at solving the problem that teacups and time had laid out before him.
Nothing too crazy so idk how i feel about this one. I’m very boring when it comes to pastel-y things because i usually do very colorful posts but i got new pastel washi tapes and decided to try the pastel pink on this spread lol