danothan - Tumblr blog

[danothan]

the way i get delirious when someone refers to the art/writing/meta i do of hal and/or barry as “your hal” or “your barry”

my..? you know them as mine?

[danothan]

barry dylan is literally just barry allen if he was eobard thawne

[danothan]

silly cat

[danothan]

Gaza's municipality is trying to raise money to fix and restore Gaza's water system. Please support them by boosting and/or donating

[danothan]

[danothan]

Oh, those silly boyfriend 🙄🙄🙄

🗽🗞️

[danothan]

[danothan]

“It Is an Honor to Be Suspended for Palestine”

Dispatches from the Solidarity Encampment at Columbia University

https://crimethinc.com/Columbia2024

In this in-depth report, participants offer a blow-by-blow account of the events at Columbia, appraising the tactics that the demonstrators have employed and the challenges that they face.

[danothan]

not tadc art BUT i just realized you guys have never seen the giant ceramic lps i made in senior year of high school and i need to show her off like look at her... my darling girl... posing with the original i based her off of for size comparison

she is very obviously made by human hands [lumpy] but that is part of her charm and you cannot convince me otherwise

and since her head and body are separate, she can turn her head in all directions just like the real deal!!

okay that is all. you have seen her now back to your normal programming

[danothan]

wym i don’t know how to flirt? i literally tell you random and unimportant fun facts

[danothan]

in the hour or so it took me to draw this op turned reblogs off

[danothan]

megan thee stallion wearing a bruno bucciarati inspired dress the the crunchyroll anime awards

[danothan]

If micro-fics are still withstanding, why not something about Shinobu’s parents! Perhaps contrasted with how Kosaku’s were, or maybe even Kira’s?

Idk, im just fascinated with in-laws and families !!!

I love thinking about families too, this was a really fun prompt! I wish I'd had some space to write about Kira's parents as well, but this already is a tadge too long... I guess emotional neglect is the thread connecting their families, albeit on completely opposite ends of the spectrum. Neglect is so fun and versatile like that!

Big HUGE thanks to @toytle for reading this over for me, you caught so many word repetitions and overstuffed sentences I glossed right over in my first edit, haha. This fic is much better now thanks to you!

It’s unfortunate, but Kosaku can’t stay in the kitchen forever. He eases the flow of the faucet from a torrent to a trickle, sets his bowl in the sink, and listens, his heart in his throat, to the heavy, solid silence emanating from the dining room.

Shinobu hasn’t said a word for almost five minutes, her father twice that, but Kosaku doesn’t want to go back. He would give anything to be somewhere else, away from this cramped little house where everything is dingy and shabby and a little off-kilter, even the yellowed lines of grout lining the checkered tile counter. There’s no towel to dry his hands with, so he wipes them on his pants, feeling the square lump of his lighter in his pocket.

A quick glance towards the dining room confirms a total lack of movement since he went to rinse his dish out.

In five steps, with a brief pause to jam his feet into his shoes, he’s out on the engawa, the door lurching stiffly shut behind him. It’s freezing, the crisp air crackly in his lungs, but the view of the road below is clear. A few stars have emerged in the darkness settling over the sky like a thin slick of oil, following in the rosy wake of the pale sun. Kosaku puts his glasses on, smooths his hair back, and lights a cigarette.

He's not going to be out here for long, just until he figures out what he wants to say. He can’t think around Shinobu’s father, crumbles under his hard stare and his gravel-voiced accusations.

‘What do you want, money?” he’d asked in lieu of a greeting.

“This is a fine mess,” he’d said, after weathering their feeble attempts to talk around the issue at hand. “You’ll be expecting me to feed you, I suppose.”

Then, as they sat down to eat, to Shinobu: “Why are you doing this? Haven’t you caused me enough trouble?”

It’s all the worse for the apathy behind such cutting words, for his complete disinterest in anything said in response. Her father isn’t a big man, but he drains all the energy out of the room, with only cold contempt to replace it.

Shinobu adores romance movies, and there’s always a scene where the male lead swoops in with a heartfelt confession, the admission of which becomes shield and sword against anything standing in the way of his lover’s happiness. But life isn’t a movie, and when Kosaku tried to say something-anything- the words dried up and died on his tongue, and he found himself staring down into his lap, wishing he could wake up and find the last few weeks to be nothing more than a terrible dream.

Shinobu’s voice catches his ear, low and furious and only slightly muffled by the wall between them. The dining room window is cracked open a few centimeters; Kosaku can hear her as clearly as if he had his ear pressed to the door in the kitchen.

“Why can’t you just be happy for me? I don’t know why I even bothered.”

Her father, dull and scratchy: “You don’t call, you don’t visit, but now when you need something-“

“That’s not fair-“

“Life’s not fair. I don’t know why you can’t seem to get that through your head-“

Kosaku feels a sudden rush of gratitude towards his parents, who, although not the least bit pleased with him, at least waited for Shinobu to leave before saying so. He sits down, trying not to shiver as the cold seeps into his legs, then his core, like a stripe of ice creeping up his spine.

He sits and doesn’t think of much at all, letting the argument wash over him as pure noise, as meaningless as the rattle and hush of the wind in the bare branches of the trees. It’s full dark, the glowing tip of his cigarette the only point of brightness on a street cloaked in shadow, as remote and lifeless as the surface of the moon.

There’s the distant glare of yellow halogen headlights further down the road, the remote sound of the motor like a windup toy. Kosaku watches as it pulls up to the house, tires crunching to a stop on the gravel drive.

The man who slides out of the car is thin and shabby, lank hair hanging in his eyes. His shirtsleeves are rolled back to the elbows, and his canvas pants are ragged and splotched with old stains. He looks like a manual laborer, or some kind of repairman, but it’s far too late for somebody like that to come here.

Kosaku doesn’t see the resemblance to Shinobu’s father until he’s at the foot of the engawa, but it’s unmistakable up close. The man glances at Kosaku as he walks up to the front door, then cocks his head, listening to the argument like a spaniel hearing the clumsy wingbeats of a particularly fat duck. A smile worms its way across his face.

“Cigarette?” the man asks, holding his hand out to Kosaku.

“Huh?”

The outstretched hand closes, jabs a finger towards his face. “You’re the runt who knocked my sister up. Give me a goddamn cigarette.”

Kosaku lights it for him, too.

Shinobu’s brother sucks his first draught in hard and blows a dense cloud of smoke, settling down next to Kosaku with a satisfied sigh.

“So,“ Kosaku says, swallowing hard. He wets his lips. Shinobu never said anything about a brother.

“Why aren’t you in there?” the brother asks. His hands are red and chapped, speckled with tiny iridescent dots: fish scales. He must be a dock worker. Maybe she’s embarrassed.

“Sounds like they’re talking about you,” he continues. “You don’t have anything to say for yourself?”

Kosaku doesn’t know what he would say, though. Everything is happening so fast. A few months ago he had a girlfriend. Now he has a fiancé, soon to be a wife. And the baby, of course. Their child. Milestones that were once distant possibilities are suddenly only a hair’s breadth from the present.

“You’re not gonna run off, are you?” the brother asks.

“No!” Kosaku says, startled. “Never. I love her.”

“Alright. If you say so.”

His cigarette is starting to taste bad, thick and ashy on his tongue. Would it be rude to leave, or would the brother follow him inside? Would Shinobu be happy to see either of them?

“It’s kind of funny, isn’t it? This whole thing?”

“No, it’s not,” Kosaku says quietly.

“What, you don’t think so? She was an oops baby, too. Did she ever tell you that?” He leans in, his voice low and dangerous, close enough for Kosaku to see the stubble on his lip and the shallow pits of old acne scars on his cheek. “Hey, here’s some brotherly advice, from me to you: don’t wait twelve years after your first child is born to start fucking your neighbor’s wife. But if you do, if you really can’t help it, don’t forget to wear a condom, alright?”

Kosaku doesn’t understand what kind of reaction he’s trying to get out of him. He didn’t want to know that. Shinobu’s brother grins, his eyes bright and pitiless under the shaggy fringe of his bangs.

“Well. Best of luck.” He stands, flicking his cigarette off into the bushes, and stretches. “Take care of her, I guess. When’s the wedding?”

Kosaku doesn’t want to tell him. Shinobu has good reason not to talk about her brother. What was it like, growing up with a sibling over ten years distant from you, old enough to understand why his family is coming apart, but young enough to blame you for it?

The front door bangs open and Shinobu storms out, face set in a hard look of resignation. Kosaku scrambles to his feet as she passes him on her way to his car, ready for… something. He’s not sure what to expect: shouting, cursing, thrown shoes?

There’s none of that, just a deep, awful silence that seems to ooze from the gap between door and jamb, the frame swollen from cold, or damp, or both. The quiet shrouds them like a dark, dirty blanket, and Kosaku feels his breath catch, burning, in his chest.

“Be seeing you,” Shinobu’s brother says, but Kosaku doesn’t know which one of them he’s addressing. He pulls the door open, a thin strip of orange light spilling out onto the three of them, and then it groans shut, leaving Kosaku and Shinobu in darkness.

She shifts closer to him, arms wrapped around herself. Kosaku drops his cigarette and grinds it out with a gritty crunch.

“Let’s-“

“Can we-“

“Let’s just go,” he says. It’s not a romantic statement by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s decisive. “We can go to my parents’ place, or your dorm- anywhere you want.”

Shinobu sniffles. She looks cold, her nose red and her face pale and waxy, eyes ringed in dark circles. He wonders how well she’s been sleeping. “It’s a long drive back.”

“I can do it.” Kosaku takes her hand and it’s like a block of ice. He doesn’t start the car until he feels some warmth seeping in, until she clenches back, until he feels the bones in his fingers shift and ache.

[danothan]

hair update 2: consistently wearing hairclips has trained my hair to form jason bangs

haircut update: still haven’t figured out how to use hair products, but i’ve salvaged it in a way that i can go out in public now at least 👍

[danothan]

Hey everyone, please consider buying the 2024 itch.io Palestinian Relief Bundle- it's 373 games, game-making assets, tabletop roleplaying games, zines, and comics for a minimum of just 8 USD! They have a goal of 100,000 USD, and as of the time I'm writing this post, they have 8 more days to reach it.

Link will be in the reblog!

[danothan]

had an au thought and ran with it o/