#I've been wanting to draw something like this

[kanekisfavoritegf]

PERFECT LOVER: The Life of Nanami Kento the 35 Year Old Virgin

MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED

SYNOPSIS: Kento Nanami, a 35-year-old introvert with a tendency to avoid social interactions, has made a conscious decision to steer clear of romantic entanglements. However, everything changes when he meets a new colleague at his birthday party, (Satoru's Idea). From the moment they meet, he is mesmerized, finding himself increasingly unable to resist her magnetic presence. Like taking a bite of forbidden fruit, he becomes ensnared by the allure, delving into a realm of infatuation and finding himself unable to break free. As he delves deeper into this newfound connection, Nanami begins to realize that he craves more than just a fleeting experience and yearns for more than just a fleeting taste of what she embodies.

Table of Contents

WORD COUNT: 1.4K

CHAPTER ONE:

The lights somehow made you glow in Kento Nanmi's eyes. Or maybe it was just you, and your effortless ability to draw everyone's eyes on you. You stood atop a table dancing with Satoru wildly, arms flailing and your body rolling along to the rhythmic pounding of the bass. Pink and blue lights stuck to you and everyone in the nightclub's eyes.

"Stare any harder, Kento; lasers might shoot from your eyes," Suguru smirked as he spoke.

"I don't know what you mean, Suguru," Kento said curtly before taking a swig of his drink.

"Don't worry, I won't tell."

"There is nothing to tell."

"Do you want me to schedule a date with you and Yuki?" 

"Yuki?" Kento coughed a drop of his drink catching in his throat.

"Your eyes have been locked on her since she got on the table with her friend." The blonde man almost laughed in his face from pure shock.

"Who wouldn't stare with her atrocious dancing, almost like a headless chicken. Either way, stop trying to set me up; I've sworn off dating, remember?"

"How could we ever forget." Satoru chimed in, sliding next to Suguru, sweat making his blue work shirt cling to his body tightly, "One bad kiss in University and suddenly, any romantic opportunity was thrown out the window with you."

That was the washed-down version of what happened to Kento, but his work colleagues didn't need to know about how he basically got verbally beaten by a girl cause he wasn't ready to lose his V-Card in a one-night stand.

"Oh, all he needs to do is put himself out there more," Yuki said, forcing herself into this embarrassingly uncomfortable conversation. "You are gonna die a virgin if you keep this up."

"Better to die a virgin than known as a whore."

"Hey! I am not a whore." Satoru exclaimed. 

"Yet somehow you knew Kento was talking about you." Yuki quipped back.

"Where is…" Suguru’s voice trailed off when he realized he had forgotten your name.

“Y/N?” Kento helped Suguru find the name.

"Yes," the long-haired man snapped his fingers, "Where is Y/N? She is going to miss the cake."

"Cake?" Kento grumbled. "You didn't say there was going to be cake, Satoru. You promised there wouldn't be cake."

"Okay, I lied." Satoru tried to conceal a smile

Kento raised to his feet, ready to leave before the birthday parade showed up with cake, probably with something stupid on its icing, and a club screaming happy birthday drunkenly. "But think of it like a welcome cake, too. For Y/N, Yuki wanted her to get to know all of us before her first day in the department on Monday. And you two haven't spoken to her since she first introduced herself." Satoru pointed at Suguru and Kento.

"You are the one who stole her away to do the “Six Devil Shots” and then to the dance floor," Suguru said.

"Or you too could have come and danced with us." You cut in, a cake and candles in hand. "I stole this out of the kitchen."

"You said you were going to the bathroom." Yuki laughed.

"I did, and then I stole the cake."

"Unbelievable," Satoru said. "It was supposed to be a big thing for Nanami." Satoru pouted slightly at the prospects of not being able to embarrass his coworker. 

"Well, Mr. Nanami doesn't seem like the type to enjoy drunk people sing-screaming at him, much less their attention solely on him." You slid your way onto Nanami's side, placing the cake in front of him and the three and five candles in its center. "You have a lighter, right?" You whispered into Kento's ear. He only nodded, letting out a nervous breath before pulling it out and handing it to you.

The group sang Happy Birthday as loudly as they could over the blasting music that played behind them. Giving up after the first verse, Kento blew out his candles.

Thirty-five years old as of today, and he was no better than a teenage boy, semi-hard because you whispered in his ear and stole a cake so he could avoid attention. Sometimes, Nanami felt he was missing out on what Yuki, Satoru, and Suguru had. Some imaginary certificate to adulthood, the type that could only be won through cashing in his V-Card, but then again, would losing it to a stranger make him catch up with others his age? He knew he wasn’t the only virgin at his age, but in situations where a pretty girl flirts with him, and he wants to flirt back, something always manages to catch his tongue. The voice in the back of his head probably reminds him that she wants something from him that Kento knows he won’t be able to give her. So he doesn’t flirt anymore. And as fast as the hard-on came, it was gone, along with any idea of ever entertaining the idea that you would ever want him.

Just because a woman is nice to you doesn't mean you get hard. Kento reprimanded himself in his head.

"Okay, enjoy the cake; I'm heading home now," Kento shouted over the music. "I have to catch the last train."

Yuki and Gojo booed them loudly while Geto threw him a look that screamed, "You are going to leave me with these idiots?"

"So do I." You said, "Mind walking with me?" you said, realizing what time it was.

Kento wanted so badly to say, "Yes, I mind. The whole reason I am taking the train and not a taxi later is to avoid you." but he didn't. He only shook his head and grabbed his coat.

"I'll send you the money for my bill when I get home, Satoru," you said, grabbing your coat. 

"Don't worry about it," Kento said as he placed down a wad of cash before putting a hand over your shoulder, hovering slightly, "You ready?"

You only nodded, ignoring the head in your voice that swooned a little at the simple act of covering your bill. You were tipsy; that's why your delusions ran a little wild.

You made a mental note to never do shots with Satoru again as you slowly made your way through the dancing crowd and out of the nightclub, Kento's hand still on your shoulder.

***

The night air was surprisingly calm for the summer, making you shiver a little as you turned into Kento, keeping his body close to yours under the stars and in a quiet street.

“How was your birthday?” You asked, wanting to break the silence that seemed to fall upon the two of you.

“It was good.” He said curtly, “I don’t really have experience with celebrations to do with me.”

“You don’t celebrate your birthday?” You asked, even though it wasn’t all that surprising.

“What counts as celebrating?” 

“Hmmm, something fun, I guess.” You shrugged.

“Well, it’s my first time going to a nightclub to celebrate.” A small smile decorated his face, “I usually cook a nice dinner for myself or go to a fancy restaurant that I have been saving up on.”

“What about everyone else?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, you are telling me this is the first time Satoru has dragged you out for your birthday?”

“The first time since University, yes.” Kento didn’t elaborate, and you didn’t pry, letting a comfortable silence fall upon you two. As you turned the corner, you guys made your way to the train tracks, empty and void of any life other than the three people on the other side of the tracks. 

Just like before, the train ride was quiet. A few people were on the train, but you managed to snag seats together. You don’t know when it happened, but you let yourself drift to sleep, leaving Kento alone to his thoughts.

Each lurch of the cart when the train stopped and started made you curl into the man even more until your body leaned against him completely. 

It was only when his stop approached that Kento realized he didn’t know where you lived or whether you missed your stop. A slight panic filled him, and he shook a fully asleep you back to consciousness. 

“Y/N. Y/N.” He half whispered into your ear. Only to be met with soft groans. He shook you a little harder this time, and that’s when your eyes fluttered open. Still half asleep, though, you barely comprehend what he was saying, mindlessly grabbing his hand and following him as he stepped off the train.

Alcohol was still dancing in your brain; you nodded your head in agreement and followed him to his apartment…

Preview...

Nanami knew he wouldn’t last long, but as he sunk into you, the idea of even holding in the waves of pleasure that drowned him was impossible.

TAG LIST: @marikuchanxo @sukunasstomachtongue @getosgirlfailure @allysunny @tojicvmslut @typefeisu @aiyaaayei @villsophie @sillysillygoofygoose @jinleft @rivversin @haikioo @destinyblue-jjk @ramonathinks @actuallysaiyan @actuallysaiyan @melisuh123

CHAPTER TWO loading...

[cy-cyborg-draws]

I've been wanting to draw more artwork of Nix using their wheelchair, since i realised pretty much all of their art so far has been with their prosthetics outside of their reference sheet, and I wanted to fix that.

I do think I need to practice my backgrounds more (especially trees and water lol) but otherwise, for something a bit out of my usual comfort zone, I'm pretty happy with it!

[ID: an illustration of Nix, a purple dragon with a yellow underbelly walks along the shore of a lake. They are using a cart-like mobility aid to support their lower body as they do not have any back legs. They have their wing outstretched as though they're about to touch the water. /End ID]

[chewnotchoke]

don't ask me where i've been - l.riwoo

note: before anything else, this all started bcs of this tiktok and i thought 'wow he's so fucking sexy i should make a cocky riwoo fic' and boom :) ,,, he's not super cocky here but yk his confidence is on another level

vibes are kinda based from friends by chase atlantic so go take a listen :)

warnings: drinking, partying, making out, no smut, riwoo is a chase atlantic song personified (he's just so hot), and just riwoo being the cool guy he is

word count: 1.6k

more under the cut!

to find freedom after a relentless week of exams is what you always seek, and the place to go to is the club. with the beats pulsing through the air, the swirling lights and LEDs wrapping around you melted the exhaustion and sleepless night you had for a week. a table was reserved for you and your friends coming tonight. some of them welcomed you while others still hadn’t arrived. the laughter and greetings were barely audible from the sound booming across the place.

“what’s up, y/n! how was finals week? haven’t seen you around lately…” leehan offers you a shot of tequila which you politely decline. “barely survived, but i’m glad to be here!” you weren’t planning on drinking a lot tonight, but there sure are a lot of influences around you. a few drinks wouldn’t kill you anyway.

the bitter taste of tequila spread around your mouth, fiery and intense. your face contorted with a grimace as the liquid went down, biting onto the lime barely after a second. leehan smiles in satisfaction and you can only roll your eyes.

the strobe of lights slices through the darkness, casting fleeting glimpses of pleasure on faces flushed with ecstasy while the music fills every corner of the room. “are we not going to dance yet?” you ask him. “let’s wait for everyone else.”

“like who?”

“riwoo, and sungho.”

you couldn’t even care less about the latter, but the mention of riwoo’s name sent a shiver of excitement and nervous energy cascading through your veins. the room seemed to shift, the lights becoming more vibrant, and the sounds more distinct, all because he was coming.

oh, riwoo. you had few interactions with him but there’s just something so captivating in him that draws you closer. the anticipation was thrilling and the mere thought of seeing him made your palms sweat. you lost track of the time that you didn’t notice he had just arrived.

he was wearing a white undershirt, a black zip jacket with collar, a dirty wash color of denim jeans, a wristwatch on his left wrist, and a sunglass that sat above his head, pushing his hair back. the sight of him caught your heart in a delightful turmoil.

‘he looks so fucking good.’ a warm blush crept up your cheeks, and you quickly lowered your gaze, afraid that your eyes would betray the whirlwind of emotions stirring within you.

he flashed his eyebrows as he greeted you with a smile, mischievous and warm. you watch him gulp down the same drink leehan offered earlier. this scene wasn’t new to you, but being around these people is. you were only close with leehan, jaehyun who came with you earlier.

but that’s what friday is for, right? having fun. and you bet it’s gonna be more fun with riwoo and his other friends around.

“what do you think about going wild before going to the dance floor, riwoo?” sungho arches his eyebrows, smirking. “wild? what do you mean?” riwoo asks, looking around, as if he doesn’t know what his friend’s intention was. without giving him a proper answer, sungho pours a drink for riwoo and hands him the saucer of lime and salt.

you're perched on a stool, watching attentively then riwoo walks closer to you.

“do you want to do a body shot?”

the bar's dimly lit pulsing lights created a dazzling array of hues across the floor, reflecting off the mirrored walls and blending with the electric hum of dialogues and music. you can’t help but laugh nervously. did i just get chosen by riwoo? to do a body shot?

“me?” the thought of it seems so wild, so out of the ordinary for a friday night. but the atmosphere is infectious, and the rhythm of the night seems to nudge you towards a yes. cheers and laughter echo around you, creating a clamor of excitement. you see riwoo’s face dominating above, eyes sparkling with playful determination.

“sure, why not?”

with a confident grin, riwoo leaned forward, the warmth of his breath mingling with the faint scent of tequila he drank earlier. he gently sprinkled salt along the curve of your neck.

the room seemed to hold its breath as riwoo licked the salt from your neck, his tongue leaving a trail of tingling sensation that made your knees weak. his lips lingered for a moment longer than necessary, a tempting tease that sent trembles down your spine. riwoo picked up the lime wedge, his fingers brushing against your skin as he held it ready. then, with experienced ease, riwoo threw back the shot. the lime followed, his teeth scraping your fingertips as he sucked the tangy juice, your heart racing at the sheer intimacy of the moment.

the crowd erupts in applause and yells, the noise almost deafening but thrilling all the same. it’s reckless and a bit silly, but in the contagious energy of the night, it feels just right. you didn’t notice how long you’ve been looking at riwoo that he had to snap at you to get your attention.

“what are you looking at? just tell me if you wanna kiss me i’d let you do it.”

he smirks, turning around as he goes back to his friends circling the table with rims of shot glasses lined up. leehan came and wooed, nudging your shoulder with his as he brought another glass of drink.

“i might die before i even get drunk.” you gulped the alcohol in one shot, your cheeks heating up as you barely tried to catch up with everything that was happening around you.

the night deepens and the air becomes thicker with the scent of perfume and sweat. your head starts feeling a little heavy, and your surroundings get a little hazy as the neon lights cast over your face and all around the area. after a few dances, you have been sitting beside your friends for almost an hour as you try to catch up with them, and riwoo is there too.

you were too busy chatting with drunk jaehyun to notice, but riwoo had been stealing you a few glances. a few interactions happened earlier again like him passing the glass to you, or eyes meeting as you laugh together over the story taesan was telling earlier. (like this)

then, the music shifted to a familiar song. without a word, everyone moved to the dance floor. riwoo suddenly grabs your wrist and navigates you through the crowd, following everyone else to the platform. the floor vibrated beneath your feet, and you felt a rush of exhilaration as you danced with wild abandon, your body moving in time with the beat, and mind blissfully blank.

slightly intoxicated, he sways behind you with his grip on your waist, warm and reassuring. the rhythm of the music thrummed through your veins, and suddenly, all the awkwardness and self-consciousness melted away. you moved together, your bodies finding a sync that felt as natural as breathing.

riwoo starts telling something inaudible because of the blasting music.

“what?”

“i said you smell good!” his voice a little louder. you turn around to take a good look at him but his eyes are wandering around. not long after, you caught his attention when you asked him, “really?” and he leaned forward closer to your neck, his warm breath wrapping over your skin as his nose caught the scent of your perfume.

“you do,” he says. “sorry, i’m kinda drunk.” his hand palms over his face, trying to keep himself sober but we all know he’s not.

under the dark lights and swirling haze of the the bar, the unsaid tension burst into something palpable and undeniable. his eyes are deep pools of enigmatic charm. they're the kind of eyes that see through the ordinary, making you feel like you're the most captivating person in the world when his gaze locks with yours. there’s a depth there, a magnetic pull that makes looking away seem impossible.

at that moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just you and riwoo, as if the music and the crowd had faded into the background.

“wanna do it? let's go outside.”

riwoo drags you out of the place as he brings you to the parking lot lit only by the distant, flickering streetlights. you leaned your body against the door of the car’s trunk. not a single figure was seen and riwoo slowly slanted in, narrowing the gap between your lips and faces. the taste of whiskey and something sweet—sunkist, maybe—mingled in the kiss, intoxicating in its own right.

riwoo’s body presses against yours while your fingers trace the back of his neck. it was clumsy and urgent, the kind of kiss that only comes from a place of uninhibited desire, fueled by the haze of alcohol.

you were fazed by how riwoo was enthusiastic with the way his hand was roaming behind your small back, and the other tangling in your hair. his lips moved in sync with yours. he regained his composure and reminded himself of what was happening; he was really kissing you, you were really kissing him, and suddenly the world around the two of you became meaningless.

it was messy and imperfect, yet somehow perfect in its raw intensity. something about the taste of riwoo’s lips was intoxicating, making you need more—need everything. the night was alive with your shared breath, the feverish heat of your kiss cutting through the cool night air. his hands went from the side of your head, down to the back of your neck.

“should they know about this?” you backed away, almost sober.

“why not? shouldn't they know that we just had a hot make out session, and i'm a good kisser?” he sneaks in an arrogant smile, “let's go back.”

as you went back to the pub, riwoo remained on the dance floor to have fun with the guys while you head over to the shared table, finding leehan alone, drunk as you guessed.

“weren't you dancing earlier? taesan and i couldn't find you.”

“don't ask me where i've been. i just made out with riwoo.”

and if there's one thing you've learned that night, riwoo was a crazy bottom-lip kisser :)

i'm going crazy over riwoo and it's not even healthy anymore,, i'm going insane writing nor reading a fic is not enough!! i just need him right Now!!

he's so chase atlantic code here wtf i had to listen to a whole ca playlist while writing this and it fits him so bad!

anyway,,tell me how this went through the comments, reblogs, or wherever!!! i love feedbacks plsplspls

[loupy-mongoose]

Well, my brain seems to have taken a detour in my interests.

Wolves.

Or werewolves.

Or something of the like. They can transform at will, so it's not the stereotypical werewolf situation.

Anyone remember the Mews I made based on my wolf characters a long while ago?

I've been thinking about them.

The big grey one in the back is Brook, I believe an Aurora from the Miyoni line. The one who didn't get a Mew last time. X3

The big orange/brown one is Talon, and is apparently a Wishpet. (I find that big buff drawing of him to be amusing in that context. XD)

The little grey one is Timber. He's one of my oldest and most precious toys. He's an Aurora Mini Flopsie with the name of Woolsey, but little me called him Timber. I believe I got him in 2006, but I don't know for sure.

And the last, Coco... is a mystery. I've tried and tried to find out what brand she is, but I've been unable to find anything. And little me always cut off tush tags thoroughly. So no hope of answers there. XD

Anyway, that's been what's swimming in my mind today.

I... have to admit, I get mad at myself when I change fixations or motivations. I feel horrible that suddenly I'm enjoying something more than Winks and Wolf.

I shouldn't. It's my brain, my motivation, my blog to do what I want with. But it's so hard to give myself permission to do that...

Sometimes I'm mad at my brain for being as fickle as it is, but sometimes I'm mad at myself for not letting myself be fickle.

Fingers crossed my brain decides before the weekend. I don't want to be wallowing aimlessly for things to draw. =_=

[magicratfingers]

it's been a minute since i did like, a process feelings post and this is supposed to be a process blog so

i'm putting together a lil slideshow about my makin comics for my day job. It's got me goin through old stuff back to like, 2021 when i first started trying to draw regularly. (I tried to draw a hobbit a day. I don't know why. I don't even like LoTR). I was just messin around trying to find some direction until I started drawing d20 fanart religiously (thank you, ACOFaF) and finally started making comics last year.

I definitely see periods where shit was really fun and effortless and then periods where I was needing to force it. Looking at my archives, last June things were really going great. But then in January I hit that burnout hard and had to take all those months off to konmari my way through it.

I want to figure out like... what happened there. Was it something special about June? Emotional fallout from the first Halloween I spent alone? Or just. Going too hard? I was definitely trying to do a lot AND trying to tell longer stories so I'm not surprised my brain melted.

What I can tell is that the art i like the most was made in periods of silly goofy fun times. very dumb, zero pressure. just having fun. I've been pretty stressy bessy about my dayjorb. So in an effort to get no stakes goofy back into my life I'm redownloading tiktok wish me luck.

One old thing I did that was really fun was the daily oracle. It was before I joined tumblr. Maybe I bring back a silly daily exercise? Shake off some pressure?

Here's some of the oracles. I think they're all on kofi (with their descriptions)

[allastoredeer]

Oh no, I hope all the folks annoyed about the influx of radioapple art with Lucifer in a dress aren’t talking about all the recent art of flapper!Lucifer. I've been seeing tons of radioapple art with Luci dressed in drag as a flapper girl and being all flirty towards an incredibly flustered Alastor, and I've loved every bit of it! No sign of any of the usual Manlyman!Alastor/UuU!Lucifer crap, just flapper!Luci teasing a VERY red-faced Alastor. I really hope that's not what people are talking about😟

I think I've seen pics of that floating around Twitter. Love the dress design, made me want to draw Alastor in one T.T Idk if that's the one any of the other Anon's were talking about specifically, but even if it is, don't let that take away you're enjoyment of it. You are 100% allowed to like things even if other people dislike it.

This is fandom. Curate it with people and fandom art/fics/edits etc... that you enjoy and ignore the rest 😊It can be irritating and disheartening to see people hating on something you really enjoy (I get the feeling, I've felt the same way about characters and shows I like) but at the end of the day, you loving it and them hating it doesn't actually hurt anyone. We're all here to have a good time, whether that's gushing about a ship/show with a like-minded community or ranting about it with a like-minded community. Both can be fun and cathartic.

I mean, even if you did like UwU Lucifer and Manlyman!Alastor, I'm not going to seek you out and tell you all the things I dislike about it and why you shouldn't like it, nor should anyone else. I'm not here to rain on anybody's parade. That's why I rant here, on my own blog, in my own little space, with fans who agree and understand my frustrations. That way anyone who doesn't want to see my posts can block and/or mute me and go about their day enjoying the content that makes them happy.

Make sure to give the flapper!Lucifer and flustered!Alastor art some love so the artists know you're enjoying it too! As an artist myself, that does wonders for our motivation to draw it more often LOL

[clotpolesonly]

Declan's hair in tvTRC; a dissection

ok i'm sure you guys have been waiting with bated breath for me to weigh in on this particular subject (lol) but i needed a hot minute to collect my thoughts on the matter. turns out i've got quite a few, go figure.

first things first: i am contractually obligated to say it's a goddamn travesty of a departure from canon to make Declan fucking BLOND and why the FUCK did they do that??? i was screaming in dms the second he showed up on screen, my sister can attest to how far i threw my phone across the couch in my outrage. i mean, honestly who suggested that?? turn on ur location i just wanna talk

-deep breath-

okay got that out of my system

so we all knew immediately that it was stupid as shit and entirely unnecessary...............but i've got a confession to make

i don't hate it

at least, not anymore. i'm actually kinda fascinated by what they've done here and what it adds to Declan's character/what it says about him psychologically. especially because he doesn't stay blond -- his hair is only like that for a little under half of the first season, though it's unclear how long he's had it like that before (tv)canon starts.

what the show has done here is given Declan a relationship with his hair that's not entirely dissimilar to the one that Ronan has. it's never said explicitly i don't think, in either the books or the show, that Ronan shaved his hair off because 1) he looks too much like his dad with it long and 2) it's something that he can control, but it very much comes through anyway, and the same applies to Declan here.

both boys -- all three boys, actually, but Ronan and Declan especially, more than Matthew -- are made in Niall's image. they resemble him very strongly. they look in the mirror and, for better or for worse, they see their father, and that's something that becomes really fucked up and complicated when your father is murdered, and when you hate him, and when you're afraid of becoming him, and when you miss him.

Ronan dealt with it one way (shaving it all off, making himself unique) and Declan here dealt with it another way (distancing himself from his father, yes, but also doing it in a way that made him more similar to Matthew). (and to his mother, which is a point i'll come back to later; you know the scene i'm talking about.)

Declan is a control freak of epic proportions, we all know this, and seeing it manifest in changes to his hair is not remarkable i don't think, esp in conjunction with how meticulously he manages his wardrobe. everything in his life feels outside of his control, so he grasps at what he can to feel secure. that's textbook.

then he fights with Ronan. most of the scene plays out more or less as it does in the book, but i want to draw your attention this bit of dialogue --

Gansey: "Why are you even here?" Declan: "I don't need to explain myself to you, I can go wherever I like. Free country and all." Ronan: "Then you're free to go somewhere else." Gansey: "Ronan... Declan, just go." Declan: "He's failing almost all his classes. What, Ronan, did you think I didn't know? Your teachers call me every time you skip class, dumbass, you keep going like this and you're going to -- " [Ronan tries to punch him again, Gansey intervenes] Gansey: "That's enough, both of you! Look, Declan, I'm not saying you're wrong, but you are not Niall Lynch, and you never will be." Ronan: [scoffs] "Not looking like that. You and your bimbo girlfriend get a 2-for-1 special at the salon?" Gansey: "Ronan, knock it off." Declan: "Believe it or not, I'm trying to help you." Ronan: "Well, I don't. And I'll never forgive you."

the salon comment is a petty side swipe that made me snortlaugh ngl, but it's also a direct acknowledgement from Ronan that what Declan is doing with his hair is Declan, in his own way, trying to distance himself from Niall while simultaneously trying (and failing) to fill his shoes. he's shining a spotlight on Declan's biggest source of internal conflict in a way that's both casually cruel (Ronan's specialty tbh) and humiliatingly dismissive. what an effective jab at someone like Declan who is, underneath his deliberately unremarkable exterior, every bit as proud as Ronan is. he's trying to be Niall and he's failing so badly even Gansey's begging him to stop, and he's trying to be Not Niall and he's so obvious about it as to be pathetic and laughable.

it's notable that the blond doesn't stay much longer. we only see it once more -- delivering his ultimatum to Ronan through Adam as he gatekeeps Declan at monmouth, a confrontation i must note is between a natural blond (Adam) and a fake one (Declan), and no words are exchanged about it but we do get a rather pointed look at the hair from Adam right before he delivers his line about fighting and it being "Ronan's thing" that makes Declan back off -- before we get to the biggest departure from Declan's canon arc and what i really want to talk about:

✨ the dorm room dye job ✨

this is, honestly, my favorite non-book-canon scene in this adaptation so far. that probably does not surprise anyone, because i am me, but hear me out!!!

let's run through what we actually get in this scene:

- Matthew asking Declan what he, Matthew, is doing in the morning, and Declan rattling off Matthew's entire schedule for the week, all while nagging him through his bedtime routine - Declan texting Ronan repeatedly and getting left on read - Declan trying and failing to sleep (intercut with Ronan and Gansey sharing insomnia time), growing more restless and texting Ronan some more until Ronan blocks his number and the texts stop being delivered - Declan going to their suite's bathroom to dig out a cheap dusty box of hair dye from the back of the cabinet and rushing through the process of mixing and applying it while Matthew sleeps - Declan staring at himself in the mirror and then smearing dye across his reflection

obviously, exactly none of this is book canon, and i don't not understand why some fans are crying foul on screentime they consider "wasted". should priority have been given to book canon elements and scenes? yeah, probably, and there are things that didn't make it into the show that i would've been glad to sacrifice this scene for, HOWEVER i want to talk about why this scene, as presented, within this slightly alternate show canon, is worth its screen time imo.

the show is really making an effort toward expanding the characters and relationships outside the insular gangsey -- the fox way ladies and the Gansey family have both gotten subplots, and much more attention is being paid to the Lynch bros than we got canonically this early in TRC.

without being inside the POVs of Ronan's friends like we are in the books, it makes sense that we get to see Declan more objectively for the overburdened teenager that he is. we get to actually SEE him being relied upon to manage and parent Matthew, day and night, no breaks. sharing even a bedroom with him, there is no reprieve and no retreat from that responsibility.

and we see him trying to manage Ronan too, which is overbearing and aggressive, yes, but we also see his preoccupation and his mounting anxiety. the little tics like him tapping his thumb against his thigh and the breathing technique he employees (the same one that Ronan uses in ep 2). unlike when they were brawling in the parking lot, Declan defends Ronan to Matthew ("he probably just lost his phone again" despite all of his messages being read). (this is a characterization tidbit described in Greywaren actually, in case any viewers haven't read TD3, that Declan was always far more understanding of Ronan and his behavior to Matthew than he was in confrontations with Ronan himself).

i digress, anyway, Declan tries repeatedly to get through to Ronan until the messages stop being delivered and Declan (correctly) assumes that Ronan has blocked his number (again).

all that nervous energy boils over and Declan beelines for the bathroom. he obviously knows that the box of dye is in there, he goes right for it. it's ambiguous how long it's been there -- either it was there before they moved into this room, in which case it may have been what inspired Declan to bleach his hair in the first place, or he may have bought it himself months ago and decided not to use it (probably because it's cheap and he usually has higher standards than that lol, he'd rather get it done professionally).

but this is not a moment for standards. this is an impulse. it's rushed and clumsy and jittery. he tears the box getting it open. he fumbles the little conditioner thing. he tosses the instructions aside with barely a glance. his phone is right there on the kitchen counter, always in the frame but face down, conspicuous in just how much Ronan is not texting him back.

this is, as mentioned up top, a bid for control. Ronan is uncontrollable, a variable he cannot account for and a loved one he cannot protect, and so Declan does what a lot of teenagers in fucked up circumstances do -- fucks with his hair before he can think better of it.

the only thing that slows him down is dropping the bottle, which almost wakes Matthew up. Matthew, right over Declan's shoulder in the mirror. Matthew, always in the frame just like the silent phone, always on Declan's mind, never allowed to more than an arm's length away.

Matthew is in the background of this entire scene. every shot of Declan's breakdown, Matthew is there, if indistinctly.

and there's something else about the cinematography that really elevates this scene, and that's the fact that, once Declan enters the bathroom, the entire thing is shot through the mirror. we don't get another shot of Declan straight on to the camera in this episode, we only see his face in reflection. we are seeing Declan seeing himself, which is perhaps the truest way to view him, especially in this moment.

remember that this was catalyzed primarily by Ronan's judgment (and Adam's, and Gansey's). Ronan ridiculed Declan for his hair a few episodes ago, not just for its own sake because it looks ridiculous but specifically in conjunction with talk of their father and Declan's inability to fill his shoes. Ronan essentially called Declan a failure and a phony, and the hair now symbolizes both.

Declan is so so conscious of how he is perceived, constantly thinking of himself within the context of how others think of him rather than engaging in actual self-knowledge. he is his own panopticon and this scene showcases that EXCELLENTLY.

which makes this messy breakdown so interesting, because it is unobserved by anyone but himself and, in the end, he obscures even that. he blacks his hair with bare hands (buddy, that's gonna stain so noticeably afkdjh) and then stands there, staring into the mirror at his own reflection -- at his own failure to perform the identity he's chosen for himself -- until he can't bear to see it anymore, and then he smears the dye along the mirror to block it all out. all that messiness, that vulnerability, hidden even from his own eyes.

and of course i need to touch on the identity of it all. of course i do!! because hair color means something in the Lynch family!! the resemblance the older boys have for Niall is so integral to the family dynamic and how they all relate to and interact with each other. the boys have daddy issues out the wazoo, and you would too if you were Made In Your Father's Image.

for Ronan, looking like dad was a source of pride for a long time, and is now a source of pain. but for Declan, looking like dad is equal parts pain and shame. everything Declan is, so much of his facade, was deliberately constructed to be different from his father -- Niall was reckless, so Declan is careful. Niall was loud, so Declan is staid. Niall was volatile, so Declan is predictable. Niall was eye-catching, so Declan is invisible.

and now, Niall was a brunet, so Declan is blond. it's another step along the road of rebellion against the legacy he inherited. Niall claims god broke the mold, but Declan knows just how similar they are, both physically and in their natural inclinations (though we haven't gotten into the latter much yet in the show). his father is not a man he respected and he is deeply afraid of being too much like him.

Declan bleaching his hair was a reaction to that, and it was a reasonable one, but it was also fundamentally, in both Declan's eyes and Ronan's, a disavowal of his connection to and place in the family. in rejecting his resemblance to dad (and therefore Ronan), Declan functionally declared himself Not A Lynch.

which makes this, dying his hair dark again, a bit of a reclamation? in a way? or, no. that would feel triumphant, and this scene has the definite air of tragedy.

maybe i should say it's a concession instead. the waving of a white flag. it's an admission that trying to disavow his family is a losing game. he cannot cover up what he is. no amount of bleach can wash away his father's blood in his veins. he will never be Niall Lynch, but he will always be Niall Lynch's son, for better or for worse, and there's no point in trying to pretend otherwise.

this scene is Declan giving up on his last desperate bid for an identity separate from the legacy he inherited. there's irony there, and honestly i find it very in keeping with what we get from him in some of the flashback details in TD3. i wrote a meta a while ago about the moth's wooden box and the alexandria townhouse both as symbols of Declan's complicity in his own oppression as a child -- ie, cages that Declan chose to step into of his own volition, because feeling powerless is worse than feeling trapped.

in this context, dying his hair dark again feels very similar. he's feeling powerless and so he makes the choice to figuratively reclaim his position in the family, even if that position is and has always been awful and traumatizing and something he's spent his entire life trying to break free from, because the alternative is to acknowledge that there is nothing that he can do to free himself. he would rather be complicit than helpless.

there may or may not be something to unpack with Declan choosing blond, especially that shade rather than something that would've been more aesthetically fitting for him like a cooler platinum shade. namely that, in distancing himself from his resemblance to Niall, he actually strengthened his resemblance to Matthew and also to Aurora. he could've dyed his hair some middling shade of brown and honestly it would've been far more in line with his desire to be bland and pedestrian, but he chose a hair color that aligned with the other half of his family (the dreamt half of his family).

was it some subconscious desire to replace their mother for Matthew's sake? Matthew was Aurora's favorite, he was the closest to her and undoubtedly the one who took her loss the hardest in the immediate aftermath, and we know that Declan took up the kinds of duties that used to be Aurora's like cooking Matthew good meals and being his emotional support (as best he could).

the fact of Declan taking on Aurora's most defining feature in the aftermath of her falling asleep (to him, functionally, her death) and his staunch refusal recognize her humanity (such as it is) or to engage with her memory is really haunting, imo. honestly, Aurora and his relationship with her is such an underrated factor in Declan's psychology, she had such an enormous impact on him that's rarely discussed in the detail it deserves. here it's like his feelings about her are leaking out of him subconsciously even as he's trying his damnedest to repress them.

or, hell, idk, that might be reading too much into it. it may just have been that blond was as far from his natural color as he could get.

but honestly it doesn't feel coincidental. nothing in this arc does, which surprised the hell out of me as i was watching. "Declan is blond now actually" is the kind of cracky nonsense that should've had me flipping tables, but it turns out, when it's a concept that's actually executed with thought and attention to detail and a real understanding of the character, blond!Declan is something that can actually be so personal.

so

thank you for coming on this journey with me. if you read this far, your brainrot is probably nearly as strong as mine is for writing it. i might write another one later digging into some more of the details from the back half of season 1, but for now, i need to go outside and touch some grass or something. stay tuned i guess. <3

[kvothes]

hello I have been driven to googling silly and impossible questions and then recently I thought well you and I have interacted briefly and also you are a poet. so. I am a lawyer and I like my job very much and I'm quite gold at it but when I was a child I used to write and draw and make music and it felt very real and serious to me and even though I like my job very much my life feels devoid of soul. I was wondering if a professional poet had any thoughts on how one brings it back to life.

it's so funny the things we ask of poets, i'm often in demand for weddings and births and funerals as though i'm an expert in all of them, despite having never married or birthed or died. but i'll give it a try

it sounds like you just need something around your job that can provide for you the things that your job won't, like color and delight and soul, as you say. it really is just as simple as picking back up whatever makes you feel—luminous, alive, delighted. i picked up guitar during the pandemic, personally.

moreover, it's about being willing to devote time to those things. both in a daily "if you want to read more you need to sit down and read" type of way, and also in a "you might not find the thing immediately that will make you happy and you need to try stuff out" type of way.

i read a lot of poetry both for professional reasons and because it delights me; i also try to watch old movies whenever i can, and i buy croissants nearly every morning, and i'm building up a record collection. this year i've tried to travel more and i'm planning a birthday picnic for myself, because if i don't, i'll just be sad.

so that's the advice, really. pay attention to what does delight you, be it opera or long walks or italian sodas. and try to work those into the fabric of your days as much as you can. start with what you miss. reach out from there. that's all

[tassodelmiele]

Skin's red where the heart beats the most

Soft, warm, sad, with a gentle ending Ghost x Soap

Yes, yes, there's no smut in here, what in the bloody hell it's happening omg.

Menstruation hit just worst than usual this month, and I NEEDED something sad but kind, with tears but hugs.

I was about to draw a thing 'bout it, but my drawing abilty had just flew out of the window.

Sorry for the unrequested sadness. And for the totally random verbal tenses.

What a month.

What a period of time.

What a what, in the goddamn whatever, are we living.

..........

<Why red?>

He had pointed his sight at the drawing, hazel eyes on the brushed shadow around the sketched man's shoulder and chest as if it was a life print. Ghost had made Soap stop with a single glance and those two words muffled under the balaclava.

<'S blood. Changes the skin's tone>

<On the shoulders?>

<Here's just a bit reddere ‘cause of rendering reasons. Also, 's where the sun hits the most>

<So where's the blood?>

The colored pencil made one last stroke before the rest. Soap's fingers were brushed on the rough paper surface, a caress so gentle that Ghost had almost felt it on himself.

<The chest. Just a little saturation, here where veins do their most>

<Pretty sure 'm not that saturated>

And that was when Soap's gaze had turned to Simon, sited behind him like a judgmental wall, curled in crossed arms, hoodie and gloves and with eyes hitting the dim light of the safe house. A glimpse of curiosity hit the work of art, and the artist's reply was a mumbled:

<'S just a sketch, Lt.>

<A pretty good one> and that made Soap chuckle in his gear. <Anatomy seems accurate enough>

<Are ye some kinda art critique?>

<Just giving ma bare opinion on it. I've seen ya drawing for a bloody eternity>

<What ‘bout the red, then? I’ve done it before>

<Dunno, if I have to give my take on it> Ghost had lowered just what was needed to peek at the portrait a little better, mumbled on Soap's shoulder: <Ya've drawn more accurately than this. I don't spot red on my chest, unless I'm bleeding>

<What about when ye’re bruised?>

Soap had turned so suddenly, jerking his torso in a rotation move that had almost made his spine squeak.

And in a blink of an eye, he had been facing the Lieutenant's big, black disguised eyes, the solo glimpse of warm light in a silent night concert. 

<What 'bout> he had kept on asking with his eyelids steady, not willing to lose a single bit of that eye contact <when ye feel?>

Ghost had frowned.

<Like, when I feel the bruise?>

And Soap's shoulders had made a little jump.

<Whatever ye bloody want to>

It could have ended there, hidden between the cracked wall; a secret held for eternity, signed in red and locked with the last mixed glance of ancient gold and deep water.

It could have ended in a glimpse of an eye, a wing stroke, just the recall of a shadow on the wall.

But that shadow was hanging on his masked face, livid in the colors of a death that was not calculated, not researched, not wanted.

...

<Lt.?>

Stormy thoughts had gotten him so well he didn't even realize Soap had come in, a big cup of tea in one hand and a worried sight printed on his face, stronger than his curiosity.

Sergeant wavered on the doorstep.

The only window was open; so peculiar, so odd, almost atypical. Nothing more than warm summer air was flying through the small meeting room, emptied just one hour ago to speak about the order of the day. Nothing particular: some kinda illegal traffic carried on by a Mexican family, something about new members of the cartel that were trying to get a piece of the drug monopoly cake. 

Ordinary, common matters to be discussed in the Task Force's file filled with every crumb of sin traceable in human's brain.

Everything was good. Everything was about to be calculated.

But a name.

And the flame's echo had caged the walls with him inside, suddenly tied by the throat in front of a flashback he had prayed to be able to not see anymore in his sleep.

The light, wooden sound of the mug put on the table was enough to warn Ghost how much Soap was near his scratched eyes; he turned to the window, pretending a masked ball of boldness and a cough of disappointment. 

<Ye've stayed here for a bloody hour>

No comments. Johnny came closer with the audacity of a famished cat trying to share the same prey with a wolf, head down, ears up and heart gulped deep in the guts.

‘Cause that was the correct reaction, the right amount of feeling digging a hole in his chest, chocking his breath at the sight of a living reference, a statue hidden in the dark, some sorta totem he’d looked at in the worst night possible, through crossfires and death sentences, just as a baby could stare at his star-shaped light bulb and feeling safe before falling asleep.

And how do you explain to a kid that a bad, big, scary man had broken into his room and tore his light into pieces?

Two minutes of silence sounded like an eternity. Soap gulped a breath, lowering his eyes just to pretend to not have seen Ghost's back jerk under a hidden sob.

<Sorry> he just muttered, ready to leave the room stiffed with something that was just scraping his heart apart.

Till something brushed his hand; and his heart skipped a couple beats as eyes caught Ghost's fingers trying to lace a bond between the two of them, his hand just as close as what it was needed to touch him in a rush before Soap got away.

And he was so desperate, so vivid in his need to be held and have his brain teared apart by tears, that Simon didn't even think about how it would have been better tear away the water from his gold-engraved irid before showing himself wet and broken, fallen.

Lost.

The mug attended silently at the outburst, almost trembling on the table as Johnny caught Simon by the hoodie, pulling him toward him with digits digging in the black fabric, surrounding every inch of that man so big he was difficult to handle, even all curled on himself. Ghost felt his head being pushed into Soap's hollow neck, and there he allowed himself to breathe a low, grumbled, chocked cry, wetting the sergeant's t-shirt with no more regret.

Arms squeezed muscles at their limits just to try and hold Simon together, to not let him slip away in his dangerous train of thoughts about to derail.

<If just I→. Lips were bitten, not enough though, and Soap kept on murmuring: <If just I could kill that bastard- > 

Just to be stopped by an almost inaudible: <'S ok>, whispered muffled on his t-shirt.

Johnny's answer was a stronger hold onto Ghost, and the end of the sentence was a spit:

<I would do it. A million times>

‘Cause Roba’s name was too fresh as a wound, still opened on Simon's heart, still hurting so bad. And, of course, everyone could read a bloody dossier, nothing special about the whole task force knowing there was something still buried and burning behind the skull mask.

Everyone could read.

Feeling was something else, though.

Just a heart pierced by a poisoned nail could have been compared with what Soap had seen in Ghost's eyes when Roba's name had appeared on their files.

<I'll survive>

That had been Ghost's excuse since the dawn of time. 

<No>

Johnny's digits started a light move, catching the Lt. by surprise as the fingers moved so gently around the balaclava, brushing it in a kind motion as he allowed Simon to just dig a safe place in his chest. 

<Ye'll live>

Hands touched the mask as delicately as if they were handling a crystal jewel, engraving every bit of covered skin with the tact of an artist cleaning his masterpiece from dust, adjusting the lights and darkness with gentle brushes, setting the most precious ruby in the tiniest gold nest.

Then, with a last, warm, unexpected kiss, Johnny knocked on Simon's doorstep, quietly putting his fingers through the mask, just the tip, just to ask if he, maybe, could come in and bring him some quiet, some calm, some serenity.

Simon's back started to jerk, little by little, in an overflowing crescendo he had kept caged for a little too long.

And Johnny let him do everything, accepted every tear, embraced every silent weep suffocated on his chest, ready to become a safe blanket for once in his life. His fingers dug a little deeper under Simon's balaclava, pressing gently on the scratched skin he was trying to map under his touch. A warm, nice wave, maybe a little wet, entangled Soap's hands.

<I could draw you blindfolded> he whispered, framing Simon on him to better shape himself to be what the man needed to feel finally safe, protect, shield, just for a minute, the time of a couple heartbeats would have been enough.

Ghost's cheeks welcomed Soap's touch, burying little by little in that safe nest with a slow, clumsy jiggling motion.

<See?> Johnny asked, looking through his hands as if he was making Simon's soul a portrait in red and gold, brushing two delicate blushed strokes with his fingers where the skin was warmer, where the tears had dug a little more, where there was needed a little bit of kindness. 

<I was right. Feeling does make skin red>

..........

[rynris]

Dungeon Meshi: Thoughts and Impressions

I've been thinking about how quickly I consume media these days and I feel like I've been desperately binging shows in order to keep up with the times. I hope this will be a series where I can thoughtfully absorb everything from a show that made a lasting impression on me and have something to come back to and review. This is more for my own fun and journal keeping - all thoughts are my own musings and can change over time. If there's something you'd like to add, please do! I'd love to hear your impressions as well.

*Minor spoilers below*

Overall Impression

What a well thought out and interwoven story with fairly interesting characters and a great hook/ mystery! I think rescuing Falin as a plot device works really well because the heart of the story is about relationships and everything around it caters to the journey and development of these characters and how they work together.

Cons/ Issues

I still don't really buy the world building, the dungeon idea seems a bit weak, but it's anime, so some plot holes are forgivable. The beginning felt weak, it was hard to buy into the stakes of losing Falin without knowing the characters but thankfully the exposition was rather quick (1/4 of an episode it felt like) which is good. The dragon fight scene seemed a bit off. I felt like the shots were framed too close - probably to emphasize chaos and keep the red dragon mysterious until the final reveal but with my tunnel vision, it felt messy.

Ok one big con is the character tropes. They sort of make up for it in the middle, but it was enough to make me want to stop watching. I've seen these tropes a million times now and am TIRED of it. And there's so much good stuff out there that it's so easy to dismiss shows these days.

Pros/ Love

CHARACTERS! I was surprised to see more depth in the characters and I love how the mysterious were presented depending on the encounters. Thought each scenario were expertly crafted and it didn't feel too forced.

FOOD! Besides the glorious food p*rn, I was definitely taken aback by the later recipes. I didn't expect food to be woven in during some scenarios, but when it was, I was very pleasantly surprised!

At first I thought Laios was kind of unrealistic, but then I remembered that my ornithology prof was passionate about eating every single bird in the world at least once and I was like... this is real. There are DEFINITELY people like this. +1 for the representation!

On representation, I like the potential LGBTQ representation and was surprised the show took that route. The show itself is coded to be super straight so I wasn't expecting it. This is a con, but it does feel a bit like queer baiting or for the male gaze unfortunately.

Later action scenes were good/ interesting.

The pacing between comedy and darkness was well done, Trigger never fails with good comedic timing.

Shots economy is good, I feel like there are not a lot of unmotivated, extra shots, and talking/ dialog/ exposition were all well done. The used the same layout for the exposition scenes from the manga and the added animation punched it up and mode those scenes interesting. - **I'd like to study these scenes in particular more.**

Final thoughts

I think this is a great show to study how you can make a slice of life comedy and weave in some darker themes without overwhelming the audience. A lot of shows usually stay in their chosen genre, or lean very heavily on the dark/ edgy themes. I like how this show isn't reliant on solid world building, but focuses on creative storytelling to keep audiences coming back for more. Overall, the design/ setting feels basic, but it is the creativity behind the idea of monster food and how well thought out every dish is that makes this show shine. The manga and show have pretty good pacing and doesn't linger too long on mysterious or draw things out, dropping enough tidbits and lore to keep you watching/ reading.

TL;DR I think this is one of the better amine series I've seen this year and I love that this show feels refreshing with very creative storytelling. The concept is feels surprisingly unique and original but you do have to commit to a few episodes before it kicks in.

**I only read a few chapters of the manga so my opinion is not 100% and may change if I have time to read more.

[kaijukoffee]

Been wanting to draw something like this for some time now, I've been a fan of Kaiju no.8 since the early chapters, the anime is also killer!

[jacobseed]

WIP // LAST LINE // MUSIC MONDAY

all in one bc i'm so so behind but i was tagged by @imogenkol @ruvviks, @g0dspeeed @tommyarashikage (i think that was everyone im sorry) to post wips and last lines of wips and idk what music monday is but like lets goooo

there's a lot in this so i'm so sorry lmao its been awhile since i've posted a wip or even finished writing a fic wow

some ronan x ellis i started writing on the plane a month ago

“Did you find it?” He called from the kitchen.  She hadn’t, for her attention was caught by something else. Underneath a stack of books was a wanted poster with a crude drawing and her name in bold letters - her name she knew, but the rest of the words on the page was unreadable. The eyes were too dark, the scars more angry and grotesque, and the hair was short. It was clear this was the work of someone who hadn't seen her in person but only heard the frightened words of bystanders who caught sight of her. Word of her infamy wouldn’t have reached as far as the small town of Faith and how he had come by a poster of her was unclear. Ellis holds the paper steady in her hands, eyeing the curve of the other woman's smile before turning around and heading back for the kitchen.  Ronan looks up and his curiosity falters as their eyes met. “Ms. Cooper?” She drops the poster in front of him and pins it to the table with her knife, the blade through the caricature's throat. With the other hand she grabs the front of his shirt and yanks him closer. “Where did you get this?” A quick glance to the paper and back. He holds his hands up and attempts to calm her rage down. “I can explain, but you have to let me go.” “I don’t think so. You can talk just fine like this.”

uuuuh rian / maxi / ghost anyone?

"Those two seem to be getting close lately." "Who is?" Ghost questions with clear disinterest, not even glancing towards his friend. A soft hum is his answer before any verbal response. He was hesitating. "Sinclair and Brennan." His gaze flickers to his friend and then follows the direction he is looking to find the two in question standing beside each other. The Irishman has his arm draped over the woman's shoulders, leaning down close. Maxine has the faintest hint of a smile on her lips but she doesn't shrug the man off. Rian's hand brushes over hers as he takes the knife she held and flips it around. Ghost feels his hand twitch and he's thankful for his mask to hide what he could only assume would be the expression of annoyance. "So? That's good she's getting along with someone." "Is it?" Soap teases, shrugging as he stands from his seat. "Then I better do the same - what if they get married? Then he'll be family."

LAST LINE(s)

"For fucks sake, Theo. How many people are you sleeping with? Next, you're going to tell me you're fucking one of the Seeds, huh?" Nathaniel can't conceal his anger - no, not his anger, but frustration for having such a reckless niece. Theo clicks her tongue and crosses her arms over her chest. "Really don't think this is something I should be discussing with my uncle." A stifling moment of silence doesn't have time to settle when Nathaniel speaks again. "You're not going to deny fucking one of the Seeds?"

and lastly my music monday contribution, enjoy this

tagging everyone again i'm sorry @strangefable @anoramactir @firstaidspray @pitchmoss @pavus @florbelles @carrionsflower @thedeadthree @roberthouse69 @carlosoliveiraa @shellibisshe @statichvm @risingsh0t @hollytanaka @confidentandgood @leviiackrman @bigbywlf @samuelroukin @cryptcombat @beemot @tekehu @evilvvithin @red-nightskies @pheedraws

[taglist opt in]

i apologize that this is writing and not everyone wanted to be tagged in writing but if you have any wips or just want to do the music thing, that's fine to!!

[2-dsimp]

Hi! Can I get a sfw match up with the spin offs? Here's my info:

🩷Height: 5'0

🩷Age: 18

🩷Gender: Male (Ftm trans and a femboy :D)

🩷My passions: Art and music! ^^

🩷My hobbies: Drawing (both traditionally and digitally), singing, dancing (sometimes, I'm more of a low energy person most of the time), listening to music, playing with the stray cats my family takes care of or just watching them be idiots (affectionate)

🩷My profession: None yet but I plan to do something art related

🩷Other info: I'm very skinny to the point where I can actually feel my ribs through my shirt (I know how unhealthy that is and I've been trying to gain weight qvq), and I'm naturally flat, so I don't have to worry about top surgery or binders :D I have olive skin and I LOVE dressing in cute pastel pink and girly clothes <3 My Mbti is INFP and I am very very introverted, I like to keep my hair growing super long, the longest it has gotten recently is when it almost reached my hip level. I love animals and sweets. I have also been told by my friend that I'm quite naive, which is why I was oblivious to all the drama with my classmates (she was the one who told me about the beef everyone has with each other)

Thank you so much! ^^

(I love your content btw, I check your blog daily like it's newspaper and I'm a dad drinking coffee at the dinner table in the morning XD)

☆☆Yandere Gacha Match-up☆☆

【Recalibrating your results from the Spin-offs to be tailored fit to your Gacha Darling profile!】

Synchronization complete!

Congratulations! The Yandere Gachaman You’ve been matched with…

《Icha the Cultleader》

Icha is your ideal man, if you’re a very introverted person he’ll be your chihuahua companion to ward off anyone trying to invade your space or waste your time. Since he’s an introvert he understands what it’s like to be comfortable with keeping to yourself. Despite many people interpreting it as just being shy. When in reality he doesn’t want to mingle and just wants to be alone with his darling.

If you’re trying to gain weight then look no further. He’s an excellent cook and knows the science behind different food groups. Enough to know what your diet should entail for you to gain enough weight to your satisfaction.

Just be prepared for him to notify you the time to eat breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert. With no exceptions to your tardiness as he’s the type to cook a full course meal. Like a dedicated line chef making sure you’ve eaten your fill.

Given that the Cultleader’s hair is also somewhat on the long side he’ll jump to help you style your hair. Making it apart of his daily routine in dolling you up before you both head outside to go out and spend some quality time with one another.

Additionally he fully supports your passion of the arts. And would be happy to showcase his own sketches and drawings that he’s made of you amongst some well hidden summoning sigils/spell incantations/love spells.

————;———;———;——

A/n: o(≧v≦)o thank you!

[elsa-fogen]

So uhhh quick question what would you do if you wanted to finish something (an art cough cough) but everytime you tried to finish it, your motivation just keeps flicking in and out and made you have a hard time finishing it and almost made you wanna give up and leave it unfinished?

Sorry for the long question but i have SO many unfinished drawings that i want to post so bad but couldn't for sum reason 😭

And you're the only artist so far that i know almost post around every 3-5 days

You don't have to answer this but can you pls give me youtube art tutorials that help you?

So very sorry for disturbing you 😅

i'm not the best person to ask for advice, honestly. Maybe it'll sound too prideful, but i consider myself a really special case. I don't hate myself and my art (mostly), i don't suffer while drawing, and i've never had an "art block" in my life. I've been drawing my whole life, and if you count all days when i didn't draw anything you'll get... well, maybe 2-3 years out of my 24. I think. so, anything i say may not be helpful.

Actually almost everything you see in my blog are just colored sketches, not finished art

woops haha

Maybe that'll work for you too? try to just color your sketches and post them as they are. When i realised that my works don't have to be fully finished, my life become much easier. And i was really surprised to find out how many people can enjoy my comics even if they're just sketches. Of course, comics with cool art and colors will get more attention, but in the end, you won't get any attention if you don't post anything. so i know for a fact that i can't pull out a fully rendered comic, and all i can do - just sketches, and in this case it's better to post at least them then post absolutely nothing. There will be people who enjoy them.

and very often stuff you did for fun has more attention then those things you spend much time and effort (like how my shitty meme got 10k notes out of nowhere)

but when i need to finish something i just make myself do it. Just breaking myself over a knee. And don't start anything else before it's done.

It helps when you have a date when the art should be finished, and consequences if it's not. Yeah.

And EXCUSE YOU, I ACTUALLY POST EVERY DAY! gee, no respect on this hellish site for my hard work /very much J

And i don't watch any art tutorials aha- i watch reactions or game playthroughs, or some blogger ramble about some cartoon while drawing.

so yeah, kinda messy, as all my text posts are... but hope it'll help you. Good luck with your art!

[incandescentflower]

I want Wandee Goodday to be about mental health.

I've been thinking about Dee mentioning Yak's nightmares and possibly seeking help. I'm not really into Dee trying to force him with an agreement. That kind of stuff doesn't work - mental health treatment is something people choose for themselves. But lots of people take convincing. And we've already seen Dee use leverage to get Yak to take care of himself, so not so surprising that's how they brought it up.

But the conversation finally started to broach what has been missing for me - the story of their mutual losses at young ages and how that can very much impact their fundamental remaining relationships. That kind of loss can be so transformative in how a person relates in significant relationships. It can impact attachment to others, create a pathological fear of loss, increase the level of guilt people carry in their life and even impact their developmental mind set - many people get kind of stuck at certain developmental milestones if they experience trauma at young ages.

(I am saying this as someone who has been trained in cognitive-behavioral trauma therapy as a therapist, but it was quite a while ago and I'm by no means an expert. This is just generalizing. And it definitely doesn't happen to everyone. It just feels like the show might want us to think it is happening for both Dee and Yak.)

The show seems to use these facts about them as short hand for some of their behaviors and choices without doing the work to make it clear and I wish they would delve into them more. I'm worried they are not doing so for drama sake later, but that remains to be seen. It also could be that they are punching above their weight when it comes to their understanding of these issues (yes, pun intended).

This is the first time they are implying that Yak's trauma about his mother's death actually bleeds into other aspects of his life. But that connection is not clearly made. I would have found it interesting if they spent the time to draw a vivid line between Yak's loss of his mother and his fear of loss of Wandee. (as an aside, I would say that would also have helped if they solidified Yak's feelings for Dee earlier so we truly understand the intensity of them. the lack of Yak pov makes it hard to know if his feelings are strong enough to instigate this reaction)

It's also hard to draw this conclusion because Yak is the one who is more willing to react by throwing it away - his fear response seems to be to run. It looks like a "time to get out before I care too much" action with him not acknowledging he already has those feelings. And so then after he breaks it off he feels this intensity of the loss in the form of his jealous feelings about Ter - who is taking Dee away.

He seems to carry a lot of guilt about *something* having to do with his mom's death and equates disappointing Dee with disappointing his mother. But without those details, it leaves us to guess. It isn't clear that Yak is melting down here not just from losing Dee, but over triggering those feelings of loss over his mom again, and possibly the expectation that he will lose everyone.

But that would be the most compelling reason to me.

I think the same actually goes for Dee and his reactions to relationships. We've seen Dee have two trauma flashbacks without any explanation, but it's safe to assume he has his own baggage to deal with. Still, the show is unclear how much it impacts Dee's behavior. Since he has Plakao, a psychiatrist, as his friend it implies that if Dee was truly deeply struggling emotionally, we'd see Kao telling him ad nauseum to go to therapy, not telling him to just take the leap and confess to Yak.

Without Kao saying "Dee, this is more than just indecision"- it seems like the show is saying it isn't a behavior that needs professional help. But if you take it out of the way it is often played for humor, it sure seems like it to me.

If I had a friend who seemed to be struggling so hard with having feelings for someone and had so much fear of those feelings that it was making them a little miserable, and on top of that seemed to not be able to set firm boundaries with someone who had hurt them immensely, so much so that not letting go of that person was more important than how the other person treated them, you bet I'd think they should be talking to someone.

Kao is being played as the voice of reason, but he is very static right now. He's just kinda being the audience stand-in to say GAAAHHH stoppppp. But if I'd had the same conversation with a friend this many times, I'd start to ask - hey, why are you always doing this? why are you always making things complicated?? how is that serving you when you say it isn't?? That is the crux of therapy. Figuring that shit out. It feels like the show wants the character motivation without having to delve into it too seriously.

When Dee says to Yak maybe you should get some help - perhaps he should be putting on the oxygen mask first before he attempts to help anyone else.

And honestly, their mutual trauma being the reason they are having such a fucking hard time working this out would be so, so interesting to me.

I'm just not certain that is what the show wants us to think.

[honeybeelec]

Yo, a little while ago I drew some Uraraka fanart and reblogged an entire analysis based on what she was wearing here. But here's a repost of it just in case 👍

Alright, since mha is coming back in full swing, i thought I'd share a little something I noticed back when I was drawing this little doodle. So, spoilers for season 7/manga spoliers past chapter 327!!!!

Ok, so at the start of the year back in January, I started getting back into mha, back when promo posters like this one were being released for season 7

And so I drew Uraraka based off her design in this poster. However, while I was drawing her, the whole time I was wondering "what's up with her little button up. I swear I've seen it before, and it's gotta have some kinda deeper meaning".

I remembered I recognized it from Uraraka and Deku's talk about Toga and Shigaraki in chapter 342, setting up for the final battle where the heroes have to save their respective villains.

But in the context of the scene, I was wondering why it was so so important for her to be wearing that button up shirt over her hero costume? Surely it wasn't just "oh she's a little cold, obviously she would want a little shirt to wear to keep her cozy". There had to be a meaning!

And then, a certain vision popped into my head of where I'd seen Uraraka wear it before. But I wasn't sure if I was imagining things or making things up in my mind, so I went back through season 3 of mha during the training camp arc and found episode 44 - Roaring Upheaval, where Uraraka first encounters Toga.

And Bam, I'd found my culprit. The reason she is wearing that shirt during her talk with Deku is to show how much she has been thinking about Toga and to visually show those thoughts by bringing back an article of clothing linking to their meeting.

I gotta love the time and thought Hori puts into crafting these characters and their arcs through words and visuals. And as always, I will be crazy over togachako and their moments together.

Anyways, I'm currently working on some fanart for these two for season 7 coming up since I'm done with school for the semester, yayyy!!!