#so bam it IS my birthday at least by the point you're reading this

[networksupported]

@sorceryparable (continued)

> not that i blame your guy. i would also hate to be in here if i didn't have to.

he manages a sort of reedy whine- and, in true cas fashion (or perhaps true cat fashion, it was hard to distinguish the two) looks incorrigibly proud of himself for it.

> then again, whoever 'she' is- uh- i don't wanna know her either. whoever gets that amount of stress put on their pronouns is not someone id wanna...you know, meet in a dark alley. not that there's any of those around. don't wanna run into her in the employee lounge, if you get my drift- no, that doesn't have nearly the same ring to it.

> whoever 'she' is sounds scary as fuck. there we go. that's what i'm tryna say.

the next three notes are almost a scale- and, failing that only slightly, are not...wholly horrible to hear.

> oh, god. well, telling you now, 'pleasant' and 'musical' are not words ever used to describe me. so. sorry. in advance. um.

more by luck then judgement, he almost manages to harmonise with batt for a whole four seconds. that, or he simply excels at also playing with no real key or signature to follow. probably a mixture of both.

#:CONTINUE: #sorceryparable #thumbs up emoji oh its going so great #apologies for the fact this is on a new post #thats totally for trimming purposes #and not because i messed up the whole app somehow #gotta love tumblr #im great with tech i swear #the post editor kept not letting me..edit...the post and eventually i got too mad at it #its almost my birthday im not spending that fighting with tumblr rghh #im probably actually queuing this to send after midnight #so bam it IS my birthday at least by the point you're reading this #sick #take that #sorry you didnt need to read any of this #i just love to ramble #sure you know that about me now #this is why i adore footnotes like yess girl keep talking go on #sorry SORRY ill shut up now lmao

[seyaryminamoto]

3 months till Gladiator's 7th birthday. How will you celebrate? You must've grown a lot writing it. How's it feel to recall the girl who wrote the older chapters? Lots of readers and supporters come and go, which used to bug you, but not anymore as you kept going, so its not just feedback driving you. Escapism? Purpose? You made so much of one idea, as if you're daydreaming about gladiators while waiting for the bus, then "BAM!" a mega fanfic is born!

Well, if you truly wish to know how it will be celebrated, I have been working on a new onslaught of artworks, this time of around half the arcs that Part 2 is comprised by (up to The Fire Lord’s Shadow arc, I believe). So... more art! At least, hopefully xD It won’t be easy, of course, but I’ve already gotten started with the sketches and I’m still around 3 months away, like you said... it better be enough time :’D

And yeah, I’ve grown a lot, though probably not in the ways I originally thought I would. The girl who wrote the first chapters was definitely much happier and innocent and confident in ways she didn’t realize she was. I suspect reading the Author’s Notes I used to make back then, and comparing them to the more recent ones, would reveal that. I was a little more hyperactive and enthusiastic, now I’m pretty much jaded? I’ve literally gone through the entirety of college while writing this behemoth of a fanfic :’D a slightly insane notion, yet it’s something I was walking into with my eyes fully open. I remember a conversation I had with a friend once, ages ago, where she asked me if I was seriously committed and ready to do this, because it was going to be a huge story, it would take ages to finish it, and a lot of people would come and go, I might even end up wanting to toss the fandom into a void halfway through the story (she was spot-on about everything, too! :’D), but I told her I knew all those things and I was ready to face it.

Truth was, I wasn’t all that ready? But I still faced it anyhow, and here I am regardless.

Escapism definitely has something to do with it. As most people know, I’m not exactly living it up, my country is determined to get worse and worse with each passing day and nothing seems to improve. From the very moment I decided to write more seriously, a decision I reached when I was 14-15, escapism was a HUGE reason why I was doing it. I was pretty much writing power fantasies, stories about people who wouldn’t have to struggle with ANY of what I had to struggle with. All of it so I could sort of live through those characters, experience what they experienced, because I knew that as long as I was here, I’d never have a chance to have the lives they would.

Gladiator isn’t quite as blatant in its escapist purposes as that story was, because there’s much more going on in it than just that... but I certainly feel better about life when I can focus on this crazy tale and not let the horrific, chaotic world we live in get to me. I know Gladiator is likely to only ever remain a fanfic, and I’m perfectly happy with that (the more I think of it, the less I want to file off its serial numbers), because it was the culmination of my early experiences as a writer and content creator. Everything I’d learned before any of you even knew I existed, I’ve put to work in this story. And while the result isn’t flawless, I’ve done everything in my power to give my very best to Gladiator, and I know I’ll keep doing that in the future.

A lot has changed since I got started, and I sure wasn’t ready for all of it. Some things I took for granted, and then found they weren’t at all as stable and certain as I thought they would be. I’ve made decisions that have alienated readers, but just as they’re free to come and go, I’m free to write whatever I want to write. And that, incidentally, is the one thing that hasn’t changed since I got started here: this IS the story I want to write, has been since the moment that idea possessed me on one crazy night in March 2013, and my resolve to do exactly that has stayed strong, despite all the obstacles I’ve faced (beyond the known emotional baggage, I’ve gone through three laptops since this story began? Two chargers that stopped working for no reason? One battery died?? And yet I kept going like a madwoman because I HAD TO!).

It’s funny that you brought up daydreaming gladiators on a bus... maybe you mentioned it because I explained that’s how OoPB came to me, in the middle of a bus ride xD my first ATLA fic indeed found its beginning that way. Gladiator, though, came from an idea offered to me by chaosconetic, an user in FF.net. He had been watching documentaries about gladiators of ancient Rome, and he suggested that idea in case I had nothing else to write.

At first I just thanked him and kept crying about The Reason because that’s what I had in mind at the time. But a month later, the idea returned to me, like I said, when I was about to go to bed... and the possibilities blew me away. The starting point, Sokka being captured in the south, had been chaosconetic’s original idea... I, of course, decided to complicate things by making Azula do the capturing :’) A lot of my early, dismissed ideas for Gladiator were kind of cringeworthy, I think I’ve mentioned some of them before... but it might be fun to say that there were two things set in stone from very early on: the end of Part 1, as in, the big fight that leads Sokka and Azula to finally take their relationship to the next level, and the end of Part 2... which I won’t go into for obvious reasons xD The end of Part 2, I’ve mentioned before, has a slightly subtle nod in chapter 2: the only reason I could add it so early is, indeed, because I came up with it that early x’D and that’s the evidence that I’m not talking out of my ass here! (Though if I ever lie and claim I planned Part 3 from the start you are all welcome to call me out on my bullshit, because that one’s been a very slow and complicated plotting process that is STILL being finalized nowadays).

I guess for a lot of people, Gladiator is just another fic, just another story out of thousands, heck, millions, that you might find on any given fanfiction site. There’s bound to be a fair share of people who are absolutely uninterested in it (if such people follow me on here I have no idea how they’ve endured me for all these years, frankly, and I don’t envy them one bit), there’s bound to be people who are disillusioned by what it turned out to be. But even when I know all this, this story is really something out of the ordinary for me. My guideline as a writer has always been to write stories I feel passionately about, and Gladiator is without a doubt the one I’ve been most passionate about, ever.

So, if there’s one thing I’d absolutely say to the innocent, bright-eyed, not-jaded Seyary who didn’t know the full extent of what she was getting into... it’s that, no matter the strife she’s still due to endure, she made the right choice by pursuing this story as far as she has, and to never let anyone tell her otherwise.

#anon #gladiator #gladiator seventh anniversary #it's cool of you to bring it up when I'm already working on the sketches for it #if my calculations are correct we'll be deep in Slave Riot territory by the time the anniversary is here #so #:'D #maybe not the best arc to wish happy birthday to the story with #but it should still be cool enough for you guys I hope (?)

[arsyeong]

[1,349] "The background picture of your phone is me."

a/n: PERIODT! and i also wrote most of this to "at gwanghwamun" by kyuhyun; it's a lovely song and i got distracted to sing it a bit, but i think you should listen to it while reading this.

While you were happy for him, this whole idol thing he's got going really took a toll on your friendship.

You were getting tired of him apologizing to you over the phone — he's been at it since he called thirty minutes ago — even if you did appreciate the gesture. "Bambam," you groan again, interrupting his explanation for an excuse you didn't really want to hear about. "It's okay if you missed my birthday. Again. Your work should come first; I understand."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," he says for the nth time, "I promise."

"Thank you for working hard," you tell him, then you end the call.

You let out a huge sigh of both relief (because you were sick of him being sorry) and sadness (because it had to be this way). You understood him — you really did — but your heart can't help but break a bit at how things had become.

However, disappointed as you were with the situation, you couldn't say anything about it. Bambam loves his job — he likes performing, being with fans, having photo shoots and working in general. Being an idol is his passion, his dream since childhood; it would be wrong to make him feel bad about doing something he loves, especially since you've been there since the early developments of his dream.

When the doorbell rings, you had to force yourself up to open it. As thoughts of Bambam began to swirl around your head, all you wanted to do was be alone and let yourself think (and maybe cry) about it.

But you didn't need to think about your friendship with him alone when the Bambam himself was standing at your door.

"This is 'as soon as I can,'" he says softly, holding up a bag and a box he held in both hands with a small and nervous smile on his face, "Happy birthday, (Y/N)!"

You're shocked but you step aside to let him in. You close the door in his wake and watch him set down his things on your table. He keeps the box in his hands and looks to you first before saying, in singsong, "I brought you some cake."

"What flavor is it?"

"Your favorite," he smiles, "Now, take a seat and I'll go look for some plates," he begins to head off but he stops again and tells you, "Don't open the bag. It's a gift for you, but it's supposed to be a surprise."

He goes and you sit on the couch, staring blankly at the cake until he comes back. "What's with the long face?" he asks, sitting down beside you and giving you your plate and fork.

He makes a show of opening the box and unveiling your tiny birthday cake, but you could sense his bright demeanor was starting to slip as he absorbs your detached one. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you!" he starts to sing, his hands connecting in little claps, "Happy birthday, dear (Y/N)! Happy birthday to you!"

It's awkward when you don't say anything after so he says, "Sorry I didn't have a candle."

"It's okay," you finally say, and you say it almost immediately, "You can stop apologizing now."

It came out sharper than you intended, and that's when he understood something was very wrong. "(Y/N)?" he starts off gently, setting down his plate and angling his body to face you, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"That's not going to fool me," he deadpans. "Come on, (Y/N)," he says, putting his hand over yours and urging you to turn, "Face me. Let's talk about it."

The way he said those words triggered your tearing up process; he was a loud guy but, in moments like this, the gentle way he tries to console you was always somehow louder than his normal noisy self.

Your phone screen lights up then with some notification and both of you turn to look at it. "I'm almost there."

"Oh, it only sent now?" Bambam mutters in disbelief. "Huh. No wonder you were so shocked to see me."

He looks up at your phone just in time to see the screen turn black once more. "Wait," he says slowly, "The background picture of your phone is me." He leans to press the home button again. "It really is!"

"It's always been like that," you speak up.

"Uh, no, it hasn't?" he says, genuinely confused. You see his eyebrows furrow in the corner of your eye. "I don't think I was your lock screen the last time I visited."

"The last time you visited was a year ago," you snap, your emotions beginning to take a hold of you, "and I wasn't referring to my background picture. I was referring to the message part, because you send me messages promising to come all the time, but you hardly ever arrive."

"I'm here now, aren't I?"

"That's besides the point!" You finally face him, exposing your near-tears face. "You're here now but where were you all those other times I needed you? Or, at least, all the times you made me hope you'd be here?"

"Something came up—"

"Somethings always come up!" you interrupt. "And I know they're important, Bam, I understand, but you can't blame me for being disappointed, can you? For every time you left me hanging? But I can't do anything about it, no matter how much I missed you, because I know you still do enjoy whatever things 'come up.' It's just you, Bam. It's so like you to be excited by the thought of getting a schedule because I know you love your job. That's why I simply accept it and let myself be sad on my own; at least you're happy."

Bambam holds you in his arms as you cry and vent your frustrations, one hand securing against him and another rubbing your upper arm in consolation. He's on the verge of tears too — actually, he had let out a few tears slip — and he thinks he feels only a third of your pain. You had been hitting the arm securing you, and he accepts it the same way you did for him.

"I just missed you so much," you say in between your sobs, "I got so ready and excited whenever you told me you were on your way. Even when I just heard from your fans that you were flying to Thailand, I was so happy. I cancelled so many plans in hopes of seeing you but you end up cancelling on me. And I just," you pause to let out another loud sob, "It's just so sad that we were never like this before, but I can't and I will never ask to go back to what were better times for me because I know you love the life you have now. I'm just—"

"It's alright," he whispers gently when he sensed you really can't go on speaking anymore.

"I missed you so much, Bam," you cry, and he pulls you closer to him so your head was resting on his chest and you were staining his shirt with your tears.

"I missed you too," he says, his hand now stroking your hair as he listens to you sob.

The two of you stay like that until both of you calm down enough to sniffling. You let your head rest on his chest then, focusing on his warmth and his steadying breathing as a guide to follow. With all your frustrations ranted and gone, the heavy feeling you've been dragging around all this time seemed to have disappeared as well, leaving a lighter one.

"Is it the time for apologies?" you hear him ask softly and you shake your head into his chest.

"You've done that too much."

"So, is it time for cake?" You could hear the smile in his voice and, now that you felt better, you can't help but smile along with him.

"Yes," you say, extracting yourself from him and taking your plate before facing him, "I think it is."

#got7 #got7 fluff #got7 angst #got7 drabbles #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop drabbles #bambam #bambam fluff #bambam angst #bambam sad #got7 sad #kpop sad #bambam drabbles #got7 bambam #got7 bambam angst #got7 bambam fluff #got7 bambam sad #got7 bambam drabbles #fluff #angst #best friends #sad #drabbles