Hi. I’m Violet, I’m 19, and I spend an unhealthy amount of time making fictional men emotionally unstable then trying to fix them. *cough Giyuu cough* I’m mostly known for my angst so if you end up crying after reading one of my fics just know I probably cried first. if you leave one of my stories staring at the ceiling wondering what just happened… I’ve done my job.
When I’m not writing unhinged plot-lines I’m probably:
Crocheting things I’ll never finish
Baking
Taking unnecessarily long walks
Violently gooning to Giyuu Tomioka
Playing sims and creating absolute madness
Favorite color?
Pink. If it isn’t pink, I’m suspicious of it.
Fandoms I write for:
• Demon Slayer (Any character)
• Apothecary Diaries (Mainly Jinshi but I’m open to writing for others too)
Requests Status: Open 💚
(Requests may be slightly delayed)
🍓 This is an 18+ page, minors do not interact.
🍓 Be respectful and kind to everyone, this is a safe space so disrespectful behavior towards me or others will not be tolerated and you will get blocked.
🍓Reblogs are appreciated. Stealing my work and pretending it’s yours is weird. Don’t be weird.
🍓 I won’t write anything involving minors in romantic or sexual situations.
Anyways grab a blanket, a rose toy, some snacks (possibly some tissues too.) and make yourself comfortable (don’t get too comfortable though, I will make you cry.) Feel free to poke around the masterlist. There’s fluff in there… somewhere. Probably. I think.
Please be mindful of the fact that I’m a full time college student, and have my own life outside of this.
hellooo saw that u were accepting reqs at this time! would it be alright if i request a giyu fic where he’s jealous bc to ur growing (platonic) relationship with tengen? got inspired by a jjk fic i just read and i feel like it would be interesting plot for a kny fic. TYIA!!
⋆°.˚Jealous Type
Giyuu Tomioka x Reader
Plot: You’ve been getting a little too close to Tengen Uzui for Giyuu’s comfort.
Modern Au!
Author’s Note: Damn, you guys really like jealous Giyuu 😭 This is the third time I’ve written a scenario about him being jealous. Can’t blame y’all though it’s fun to make Giyuu jealous! I needed something to lighten my mood from this shit Week I’ve had.
It started four weeks ago over an argument about whether eating cold pasta out of tupperware at 2 in the morning counted as a real meal. Ever since then, Tengen Uzui seems to have squeezed his way into your life. Your friendship with him was sudden and completely chaotic. He was loud, dramatic, and somehow convinced you to leave your apartment on nights when you would usually be in sweatpants by eight.
He was naturally energetic, able to make something as simple as running to the grocery store for eggs fun. Then there’s your boyfriend, Giyuu Tomioka. Giyuu is quiet in every sense of the word. He moves softly, speaks only when he actually has something to say, and never tries to take over a room. He just exists near you. And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way; being with him is like slipping into a warm blanket—comfortable and reliable. He is your anchor, the person who can make any corner of the world feel like home.
The club was so loud the bass vibrated straight through the soles of your shoes, thumping up into your chest. Flashes of pink and electric blue strobe lights swept across the crowd, catching the sticky condensation on the drink-spilled bar counter where you were leaning.
Tengen slammed down a pair of empty shot glasses with a heavy clink and pushed a fresh vodka soda across the dark wood toward you.
"You're standing against that wall like you're paying rent for it!" he yelled over the beat, his body already moving to the rhythm without missing a step. His white hair was practically glowing under the black lights, looking entirely in his element while half the people on the floor were trying—and failing—to keep up with him.
You picked up the glass, the icy mix burning slightly as you took a slow sip, and waved him off with your free hand. "I'm pacing myself! Some of us didn't pre-game with three energy drinks and a shot of cheap tequila!"
"Pacing is for Tuesdays!" Tengen grinned, his hand catching your wrist to spin you out toward the edge of the crowd before he bent down so his voice could carry over the wall of sound from the speakers. "Look at you! You need to get out of that place more often. You’re turning into a total hermit!"
"I am not!" you shouted back, laughing as you gave his shoulder a firm shove.
He nudged you back with a wide grin, raising his glass to acknowledge someone shouting his name from across the bar. But as he turned to flag down the bartender for another round, you took another slow drink, letting the thumping music and the crowd's chatter blur together into background noise for a second. Your mind drifted straight back to the quiet of the apartment earlier that evening.
You had tried to get Giyuu to come with you. You'd practically hovered by the front door while he sat on the low wooden bench near the entryway, tying his shoes, deliberately slowing down your own routine to give him every chance to change his mind. You hadn't expected him to hit the dance floor or party—you just pictured him sitting in a quiet back booth with a cider, taking a bite of your fries while you and Tengen pulled him into the conversation whenever the music dropped down.
“Go,” Giyuu had said, his voice low and completely flat as he pulled the second knot tight on his lace. He hadn't looked up, his expression as unreadable as it always was. “You’ll have a better time without me there.”
It wasn't spoken out of anger or sharp jealousy—he said it with a quiet, mild certainty that was somehow much harder to argue with. He genuinely seemed to believe that his presence was just an extra burden for you to manage when you went out. He didn't dislike Tengen, and he certainly didn't doubt you; he just naturally stepped into the background whenever a louder personality filled up the room.
Before you could push him on it, Tengen’s horn had blared from the driveway outside. Giyuu had simply reached over, picked up your denim jacket off the coat hook, and handed it to you without another word.
"Hey!" Tengen’s hand waved in front of your eyes, pulling you right back into the flashing lights as he held out a freshly poured shot glass. "Where'd you go? Drink up, we're heading toward the middle of the floor!"
You blinked away the memory, letting out a small breath, and took the glass from him. "Yeah. Lead the way."
𝄞✦⟢𓂃⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆𓂃⟢✦𝄞
By the time you finally stepped into your and Giyuu’s shared apartment, your feet were aching, and your ears were ringing.
It was around 4:14 a.m.; the apartment was cold and dark except for the soft streetlights glowing through the blinds. Giyuu was asleep on the couch, curled sideways under a thick blue blanket; his hair was messy against the cushion, a light snore occasionally leaving his lips.
You pulled off your shoes and quietly tiptoed around the apartment, trying not to wake him, but the second the front door clicked shut, he began stirring and shifting on the cushions.
His eyes opened slowly. He blinked a few times, staring blankly at the wall before turning his head toward you.
"You're back," he said, his voice raspy from sleep.
"Yeah," you whispered, dropping your bag by the door. "Sorry, did I wake you? Why didn't you just go to bed?"
He sat up, pulling the blanket over his knees. "I wasn't waiting up. I just fell asleep here."
“Right,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “You just happened to fall asleep on the couch instead of our bed.”
“It was comfortable,” he mumbled, lightly shrugging.
You nudged his leg out of the way and sat down beside him on the edge of the cushion, letting out a long, quiet sigh as you leaned your head back against the couch.
"You're a terrible liar," you murmured, reaching out to tangle your fingers into his dark hair. It was warm under your touch, messy from sleeping against the cushion. "How long have you actually been passed out on the couch?"
Giyuu didn't answer right away. He just tilted his head slightly, leaning into the touch of your palm against his scalp. His eyes were half-lidded, dark and soft in the faint amber light filtering through the blinds.
"Not long," he admitted quietly, his voice still heavy with sleep. He reached out and caught your wrist, his fingers wrapping loosely around it. His skin felt warm against the chill of the hallway. "You smell like cigarettes and sweat."
You let out a quiet laugh, turning your head toward him. "That would be Tengen's choice of venue. He insisted on staying until the floor cleared out. I spent half the night trying not to get stepped on."
"I told you he'd take over," Giyuu said softly. There wasn't any bitterness in his voice—just that calm, matter-of-fact tone he always had. He pulled gently on your wrist, guiding you down until you were leaning against his chest.
You didn't fight it, slipping off your shoes and pulling your legs up onto the sofa. You rested your head right over his collarbone, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart beneath his t-shirt. The thumping bass from the club finally faded out, replaced by the quiet hum of the apartment's fridge and the faint swish of cars passing on the street outside.
"He tried to order us another round of shots before we left," you mumbled into his shirt, exhaustion hitting you all at once. "I ended up dumping mine into a potted plant when he wasn't looking."
Giyuu let out a quiet breath through his nose—his subtle version of a laugh. His hand came up to rest on your back, his broad palm warm and grounding through your shirt.
"Waste of money," he muttered.
"Yeah, well. I couldn't handle another vodka soda." You shifted slightly, sliding your arm over his waist to pull yourself closer. "You should've come. Seriously. Even just for a little bit."
Giyuu went quiet for a moment, his fingers trailing absentmindedly over your back. He stared toward the dark kitchen, watching the faint shadows of the window blinds stretch across the wall.
"That kind of place isn’t really my scene," he said softly. "You know that."
"You don't have to fit in," you said, lifting your chin off his chest to look up at him. "You just have to be there. I like having you around."
Giyuu turned his head, his dark blue eyes searching your face in the quiet space between you. He looked at you for a long moment before letting out a quiet sigh. The faint tension in his jaw relaxed.
"Next time," he said, reaching up to gently push a stray lock of hair out of your eyes. "If it's not too late."
"Deal," you whispered.
He didn't say anything else. He just pulled the navy blanket up higher, draping it over both of your shoulders to block out the draft from the window. He settled back against the sofa cushions, shifting his weight so you were tucked snugly against his side.
You closed your eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and let the quiet warmth carry you off to sleep.
Morning bled in gradually, filtering through the horizontal slats of the blinds in pale, ash-grey bands.
You woke with your head pressed into the dip of Giyuu’s chest, his left arm draped heavy across your spine to keep you from slipping off the narrow edge of the couch. He was still deep in sleep, his chin resting against the crown of your head and his breathing measured and quiet.
Every joint in your body protested from hours spent tangled on the cushions, yet the heavy blanket trapped just enough warmth between you to make moving feel like an unnecessary effort.
You blinked against the dim light, shaking off the residual haze before carefully lifting your head.
The shift in weight was enough to rouse him. His arm reflexively tightened around your waist before his eyes cracked open, squinting into the pale room. His dark blue eyes were unfocused and heavy with sleep as he looked down at you.
"What time is it?" he asked, his voice rougher and lower than usual.
"Probably close to eight," you whispered, attempting a brief stretch within the cramped space. "My back is going to be wrecked for the rest of the day."
Giyuu let out a low grunt of agreement, dragging the heel of his hand across his face.
"You swore it was comfortable last night," you nudged his side with your thumb.
"I lied," he muttered, making no effort to actually stir. Instead, he closed his eyes again and hauled the blanket back up over your shoulders. "Five more minutes."
You let out a soft laugh, resting your chin back over his ribs. "Tengen is going to text in an hour demanding breakfast."
Giyuu’s brow twitched slightly at the name, though he refused to open his eyes. "Tell him we died."
"He’ll just show up with cheap coffee and pound on the door until the landlord threatens to evict us."
"Then don't answer," Giyuu said simply, his palm resting flat against the small of your back—broad, heavy, and grounding.
Silence settled over the living room once more, comfortable and unhurried. Outside, the distant rumble of a passing garbage truck cut through the quiet, followed by the muffled thud of a neighbor's door down the hall.
Giyuu traced slow, idle circles into your waist with his thumb, his gaze drifting toward the ceiling in that quiet, deliberate way he had whenever he was sifting through his thoughts.
"You really want me to come next time?" he asked softly.
You lifted your head to meet his eyes. "Only if you want to be there. I'm not asking you to drag yourself out just to stand around in a loud room drinking things you hate. But yeah. I like having you in my corner. Even if we just sit in a back booth and eat fries."
Giyuu turned his head, his dark eyes searching yours for a long beat. The faint tension in his expression softened, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a barely visible smirk.
"I can manage that," he murmured.
"Good," you said, leaning up to press a quick kiss against the line of his jaw before finally untangling yourself from his arms. "Now move, before my spine fuses like this forever."
The rest of the morning dragged by in a quiet, easy streak. You made breakfast and poured two mugs of coffee, leaving Giyuu parked on the sofa with his feet kicked up on the edge of the coffee table and an old paperback in hand. His free hand lazily stroked the back of your grey tabby cat, who was sprawled across his lap, purring hard enough to vibrate his jeans. The apartment felt grounded, quiet, and warm.
That peace lasted right until eleven o'clock.
Your phone started ringing on the kitchen counter, sliding slightly across the quartz surface with every buzz. You set your mug down and walked over to pick it up. Tengen’s voice blasted through the speaker before you even had the chance to say hello.
"Get your shoes on! We're going to the amusement park!"
You pulled the receiver an inch away from your ear and leaned back against the counter. "Tengen, it's eleven in the morning on a Sunday. My legs are still dead from last night."
"Soreness builds character!" Tengen shouted back over the background roar of his car engine. "The sun's out, the park just opened, and I'm five minutes away. Tell Giyuu to get off the couch too. He looks like a ghost."
You looked toward the living room. Giyuu hadn't shifted an inch, but his left ear twitched. He was definitely listening.
"I don't think he's going to want to go..."
"I'm pulling up right now!" Tengen yelled, and the line went dead.
You set the phone down, walked over, and stood directly in front of the couch. "So..."
Giyuu didn't look up from his page. "No."
"Come on," you coaxed, bending down to grab his sleeve and giving it a small tug. "You said this morning that you wanted to get out more. It's an amusement park. Fresh air, walking around, normal stuff."
"I meant getting lunch," Giyuu grumbled. He closed his book with a soft thump and looked up at you with those dark, reluctant eyes. "Not dealing with a crowd."
"Please?" You gave his arm another firm pull, giving him the exact soft look he always had a hard time turning down. "Do it for me. I really don't want to spend the whole day getting dragged onto insane rides by myself."
Giyuu stared at you for a long moment. He let out a slow breath through his nose.
Seeing his resolve crumbling, you leaned in a bit closer, a small smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth. "Besides, if you stay here, I might actually have to let Tengen win me one of those giant, ugly stuffed animals. You wouldn't want that taking up your spot on the couch, would you?"
Giyuu gave you a completely flat, deadpan stare, his dark blue eyes unblinking as he absorbed your comment . "If he drives like a lunatic, I'm making him pull over," Giyuu muttered.
Carefully, he lifted the cat off his lap, set her down on a throw pillow, and stood up.
𝄞✦⟢𓂃⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆𓂃⟢✦𝄞.
The park was loud, crowded, and smelled like fried dough and salt. Tengen was in his element the second you walked through the gates. He dragged the two of you straight toward the boardwalk games, immediately picking a fight with the teenager running the ring-toss about whether the glass bottles were weighted.
It was hard not to get pulled into Tengen’s orbit. Within the first hour, you and Tengen were walking down the wooden path laughing over old jokes and picking on cheap carnival prizes.
"Look at this thing," Tengen said, holding up a giant neon pink frog he'd somehow won. "It's hideous. I'm leaving it on your couch."
"Don't bring that anywhere near our apartment," you laughed, leaning against a wooden railing to catch your breath. "Giyuu'll throw it straight out the window."
"I would," Giyuu said softly from behind you.
You turned around to look at him. Giyuu was standing a few feet back, completely out of the flow of foot traffic. He was holding three paper cups of lemonade, looking utterly out of place among the bright signs and loud music, standing there in his dark jacket with a quiet, guarded look on his face.
"Oh, lighten up, Tomioka!" Tengen laughed. He threw his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into a quick half-hug while pointing toward a massive wooden roller coaster looming nearby. "Look at that drop! We're doing that one next!"
You laughed, instinctively putting your arm around Tengen's waist to steady yourself so he wouldn't knock you off balance. "Only if you buy the photo at the end!"
Giyuu watched your hand resting on Tengen's side. His eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw tightening into a hard line. He walked over slowly and handed you your cup of lemonade without looking directly into your eyes.
"I'm not going on that," Giyuu said softly. His tone was flat and cold.
"Why not?" you asked, taking a sip of the drink. "It looks fun."
"I'll wait down here," he replied, shoving his free hand into his jacket pocket. He took a step backward, creating a clear gap between himself and the two of you. "Go ahead."
"Suit yourself!" Tengen clapped your shoulder. "Come on, the line's getting long!"
Tengen grabbed your hand and started walking toward the queue. You looked back over your shoulder at Giyuu. He was standing under the shade of a maple tree near a bench, his hands buried deep in his pockets, watching you walk away with a heavy, quiet stare. You waved at him, but he only gave a small, stiff nod before looking down at the ground.
The ride was fast and wild, and you spent the entire two minutes screaming and laughing alongside Tengen. Every time the coaster looped around, you looked down toward the walkway, spotting Giyuu’s dark hair standing completely still in the middle of the moving crowd.
After the ride, you grabbed some fries, but the mood had clearly shifted. Giyuu barely spoke while you ate. He walked a step behind you and Tengen for the rest of the afternoon, giving short, one-word answers whenever you tried to bring him into the conversation.
𝄞✦⟢𓂃⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆𓂃⟢✦𝄞
By the time Tengen dropped the two of you off at the apartment, the sun was setting, leaving long, dark shadows across the floor.
The car ride home had been awkward and silent. The second the front door clicked shut, the quiet in the apartment felt heavy.
You kicked off your sneakers in the hallway and flexed your sore toes. "My feet are dead."
Giyuu didn't say anything. He walked right past you into the kitchen, opening the fridge and staring inside like he was looking for something he knew wasn't there.
You walked over to the doorway, watching him. "Giyuu? Are you okay? You were quiet the whole way home."
"I'm fine," he said softly. He grabbed a pitcher of water and closed the fridge door with too much force. He poured a glass, keeping his back turned toward you.
"You're clearly not fine," you said softly, walking closer. "Did something happen today? Did Tengen say something?"
"No." He drank the water quickly, set the glass in the sink with a sharp clink, and tried to walk past you out of the kitchen.
You stepped directly into his path, placing your hand flat against his chest to stop him. His muscles were stiff under his shirt, his heart beating fast beneath your palm.
"Talk to me," you insisted gently. "You've been ignoring me since two o'clock."
Giyuu stopped. He kept his eyes fixed on the wall over your head, his jaw locked tight.
"You were having fun," he muttered, his voice dropping low.
"Yeah, I was," you said, feeling confused. "I wanted us all to have fun."
"You and Tengen were having fun," he corrected, finally looking down at you. The dark blue in his eyes was intense, filled with a sharp frustration he'd been holding in all day. "You didn't need me there. You barely noticed I was standing right behind you."
You blinked, surprised by the raw hurt in his tone. "Giyuu, that's not true at all."
"It is," he said, stepping closer until his chest was almost pressing into yours, casting a long shadow over you in the hallway. "He makes you laugh easily. He knows how to take you out and show you a good time. He pulls you into everything, and you just go along with him."
"He's my friend, Giyuu," you whispered, reaching up to touch his arm.
He flinched slightly at the touch. His hands gripped the edge of the hallway table behind him so hard his knuckles turned white. "He had his arm around you," Giyuu said, his voice quiet and rough. "You were leaning on him. You were looking at him the same way you look at me when it's just the two of us."
Everything clicked into place. The way he'd stood alone under the trees, his refusal to sit next to Tengen at the table, his dead silence in the car on the way back. It was jealousy, plain and simple, rooted in a quiet fear that he wasn't enough for you.
"Giyuu..." you murmured, taking another step closer until your shoes were touching his.
He tried to turn his head away, but you brought both hands up, resting your palms gently against his cheeks. His skin felt warm under your hands. You guided his face back until he was looking right into your eyes.
"I don't want Tengen," you said clearly, keeping your voice soft and steady. "I like having fun with him because he's loud and silly, but I came home with you. I always come home with you. I don't care about rides or games, Giyuu. I wanted you there because I love being around you, even if we're just sitting on a bench doing nothing."
Giyuu’s jaw relaxed under your fingers. He looked at you for a long moment, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt.
"I'm bad at those things," he mumbled, his voice small. "I'm quiet. I get stuck in my head."
"I know," you smiled softly, running your thumb over his cheekbone. "I love that you're quiet. You're my home, Giyuu. You don't have to compete with anyone."
A long breath escaped his lips, and the rigid tension in his shoulders finally melted away. He reached up, wrapping his large hands around your wrists and pulling your arms down so he could gather you tight against his chest. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping around your waist so firmly that you could feel his heart thudding against your ribs.
"I hate watching people look at you," he admitted softly against your skin, his voice muffled by your shirt. "I hate feeling like I'm boring you."
"You could never bore me," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your fingers into his dark hair.
He held you like that in the dim hallway for a long time until his breathing calmed down.
After a few minutes, Giyuu shifted his weight and pulled back just enough to look down at you. His eyes were softer now, the dark blue calm again. Without saying a word, he caught your hand in his and led you down the short hall into the bedroom.
The room was dark, saved only by the faint orange light filtering through the blinds from the streetlamp outside.
Giyuu sat down on the edge of the mattress and pulled you into his lap. He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, deep kiss that felt grounded and real.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into the warmth of his mouth. There was no rush to it. His lips moved against yours softly, his hands resting on your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your hips.
He broke the kiss for a second, his forehead resting against yours while his breath hitched softly. His hands slid under the hem of your shirt, his warm fingers brushing against the bare skin of your stomach. You lifted your arms, letting him pull the shirt up and over your head before dropping it onto the floor.
You reached for his shirt next, your hands slipping under the cotton to feel the warm skin of his lower back. He helped you pull it off, tossing it aside so his bare chest rested right against yours.
The feeling of skin against skin was comforting and immediate. You turned onto your side as he laid back onto the pillows, pulling the heavy quilt up over both of your shoulders to block out the cool air in the room.
Giyuu slid his arm under your head, bringing you flush against his side. His other hand roamed slowly over your body, broad and warm, tracing the curve of your waist before moving up your side. His palm rested over your breast, giving it a soft, affectionate squeeze while his thumb brushed lightly over your skin. A quiet hum left your throat.
You shifted closer, resting your chin on his chest. You ran your hands over the smooth skin of his neck, feeling the sharp line of his collarbone and the broad stretch of his shoulders. Leaning up slightly, you pressed quiet, lingering kisses along his jaw and down his neck, feeling his heart beating steadily beneath your lips.
"You're so handsome," you whispered against his skin.
Giyuu let out a quiet breath. His hand slid up from your waist to touch the back of your head, his fingers tangling into your hair. "You stay close to me next time."
"I will," you promised softly, pulling his face down to kiss his lips one more time.
There was no awkwardness and no loud noise, just the quiet warmth of the blanket and the soft sound of your breathing together in the dark. The noise of the park and the crowds were completely gone.
Giyuu pulled you in a little tighter, resting his chin on top of your head while his arm stayed heavy and protective over your back. His thumb kept making slow, idle circles on your skin, comforting and steady.
"I love you," he murmured into the dark.
You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his chest against your cheek as sleep slowly settled over you. "I love you too."
He really was the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.
The concept of Drunk on Ink Giyuu begging you to tell him you love him. Because why on earth would you ever love someone as disgusting as himself?
“One more time for me…”
His voice barely rose above a whisper.
“…Please, baby.”
He took a shaky breath before resting his forehead against yours, his bright blue eyes searching your face like he was trying to memorize every word before you could take it back.
My dog, who I’ve had since childhood, is currently unwell, and we’re pretty sure it’ll be her time soon. I’m currently in the middle of dealing with all of that, so I ask for a little time and patience. I’ll still be writing and posting; it may just be a bit slower than usual.
Can we have a Cherry Cola fic? (I’m begging you) 🙏🙏🙏🙏
I hope the age gap is 20-25 years. Considering Giyuu's sons are teenagers… if y/n is under 20 i found it bizarre yk.
I love you and your writing 🫶 (I’m sorry if my English is not ok. It’s not my first language)
many people have requested a part 2 so I will work on it 🙂↕️
it’s just not my priority at the moment, since I have a pretty heavy load of requests, my own personal self indulgent fics I want to write, and my WIP’s.
Have you ever done a self insert into a fic wether it be to y/n or another character?
Giyuu.
More specifically, Drunk on Ink Giyuu.
He’s my self-insert. Not because we share the same background; his personality is still very much rooted in canon, but I poured a lot of myself into the way he thinks, feels, and processes the world.
He’s still Giyuu.
He’s just my interpretation of him.
I don’t like projecting onto Y/n unless it’s something I’ve specifically written for myself.
Why don’t we focus more on encouraging creativity instead of actively engaging in killing it by judging people’s writing skills, ideas, character interpretations, and shipping preferences?
thanks for answering my question abt the happy ending! i thinkk shinobu was alluding to giyuu’s alcoholism as a way of coping? but lmk if im missing something else!
Yes, Giyuu would be considered a high-functioning alcoholic.
He knows he has a problem, and over the years he’s gotten really good at hiding it (in his head he’s protecting her from having to deal with his issues) That’s why Y/n never picked up on the signs. From the outside, he looks completely fine. He pays his bills, goes to work every day, spends hours tattooing people, makes time for her, and is emotionally available whenever she needs him.
Nothing about it ever seemed unusual because, honestly, having a drink every now and then isn’t weird. Plenty of people do.
What she didn’t know is that most nights, when the thoughts in his head get too loud, he’s drinking himself to sleep.
And well,cat’s out of the bag now…
They need to have a serious conversation next chapter, and I should really get on writing that 🙂↕️
