Clara gazed at him in silence. Istvhan talked to fill it, which was the worst possible thing he could do and he knew it was the worst thing he could do and yet he seemed to be doing it anyway.
I FINALLY FINISHED IIIITTTT YAYAAA!!!! Congrats on winning in popularity as the main character my child....with that being said I added Pop into the video so I wouldn’t get bored lol.
Thanks for the wait ya’ll. I did animation and it was hawd uwu;
I think I've discovered why you all know what awkward silences are. Is it because you guys aren't like always listening to music? Like I forgot my headphones at home and I have to sit in this break room eating and reading fanfic but like, with no sound, and I'm going out of my mind. Is this how y'all live all the time???
An Album of Mementos di alcuni ragazzi sfacciati e audaci
Why does the idolboy who serves tea have young Garou eyebrows and hair?
(Bang's completely genuine eyes hh)
Relatably, Garou's shook expression illustrates quite exactly how I am compelled to react to questions as:
“Do you like anyone?”
“Do you want to marry?”
“Do you want kids?”
Collectively No. Leave me be, I have prior commitments to attend to
(storms off) Like Badd.
Music Jest & Comedy of Between-Action Silence
capriccioso con fiducia
tremante di paura subito Σ(°`д °`∥∥∥)
tranquillo e pensieroso
sconcertato e perplesso
subito agitato e offeso
più agitato, un forte molto irritato (ಠ _ಠ#)
un rospo poco sorpreso
rilutante e rallentando (lo spirito) ……….con un poco di demotivazione (della voglia di vivere)
~~~~~~~~*** sforzando
scioccato e spaventato!
<<< mf. cresc.
scherzando ~vs~ grave ————— senza scherzo
…*…*…*…*timoroso~*…!!!
!fortepiano~*—-…________
ritenuto, mp. dim.>>>
lastly my fav: when your unresolved issues come back to kick your ass n hit you like a road rage truck
alt. You suddenly remember a rather urgent n important to-do you forgot n left to gather dust at an obscure corner of your subconscious somehow bc you bristle at its obligatory existence.
You ever regret an idea that was never yours? - A Flash Memoir
Summary: In 5 billion years, all of the lights will go out, and all of this will be all the less nasty and all the less disappointing.
All we can hear is the clang of my fork against the measuring cup (I've just realized that you've served me ramen in a measuring cup, ramen because in a house overflowing with farmer's market-looking ingredients, you wanted instant ramen that you didn't even want because the green packaging looked too unfamiliar, and in a measuring cup because you're fucking hilarious and the array of kitschy, bright bowls that I'm sure are lining the shelves behind those high cabinets simply do not appeal to you in this moment).
I don't know if you can hear the football game 10 feet away, you probably can, but I can't. I usually hear everything, all the time, at all volumes, simultaneously. Simba's panting. The shuffling of the cushions we're suffocating. The crunch of gummies (well, really I just smell that one, but I smell loud enough to hear it). For some anxiety-induced reason, I only have access to dishware unwillingly mingling (I can practically hear my dad's complaint at the sound) and the sound of my own voice.
All dinner, it's been asking you questions, but the only one I remember is what you do in your free time, which transforms into what you look forward to on a day off in search of a more satisfying answer. I ask to start conversation, and to be an interesting guest that you actively want to bring over again, and because you like getting philosophical during 1am manic episodes and I lack the awareness to consider those being special circumstances, and because I'm vaguely worried about how much time you spend scrolling memes you've already saved and already scrolled.
Probably something that can be dealt with later, but this is your weekend trip and you're quiet, and I'm worried, even if it's the ever-encompassing buzz of worry that floats around whenever I'm...around.
You don't respond to "Luc, do you ever..." (a pause of regret) "...do you ever feel...trapped by where you are in life? Like, what you have to do, and all that?". I apologize and regret spoiling your trip and you tell me that your "...social battery is kinda low?"
"[Oh, fuck,] really?" (I don't swear outside of my writing, but the fuck is implied).
Hunched into yourself and tiptoeing like you're headed to timeout, You scurry off to your room at my request and assurance to go talk your boyfriend to sleep, giving me a chance to inhale the rest of a ramen like a vicious animal and chat your mother's ear off about historical creative nonfiction and get worried (sensing a theme, yet?) about your social battery having enough juice for him. It's jealousy, probably, burning the back of my throat more than the accidental heap of chili flakes I threw into the broth, because I've never met a friend's lover that I haven't wanted to eat alive and envy is one of the deadlier sins.
Same face, though. Same itchy voice, same manufactured laugh as punctuation, same brain to pick apart. Same scalp to soothe.
(He's judgy, foul-tempered, foul-mannered, and calculated, stubby pointer finger in hand at all times. So am I. I'd probably want a fresher face to look at too.)
hanamiya makoto - isn’t affected by awkwardness, but will encourage awkward silences if it’s making his conversation partner feel uncomfortable
hara kazuya - rarely encounters awkward silences, cause he’s got the gift of the gab; if there is an awkward silence, he’s probably doing it on purpose for fun
seto kentaro - couldn’t care less about awkward silences, just appreciates having some time to chill and not think of things to say
furuhashi kojiro - most of the time, a silence others find awkward he doesn’t actually mind, but, if he finds the silence awkward, he’s not going to start a conversation. just keeps staring blankly at the world around him instead.
yamazaki hiroshi - absolutely hates awkward silences, gets all jittery but panics, so he can’t think of a good conversation starter to save his life. the awkward silence ends becomes an equally awkward conversation.