#that skin tone indicates being tanned

[uraharasandals]

ALSO YO IDK IF YOUVE SEEN THIS YET BUT HERE

https://twitter.com/Numasan0704/status/1598287615287242752?s=20&t=zREuMXOvGF90Ogins5xUnA

😳😳😳😳

no words, no thoughts, head empty, screaming only

and yes this is absolutely 100% recommended reading material for LITERALLY EVERYONE WHO FOLLOWS ME

[lilgynt]

i think being plus sized a person of color autistic AND trans masc is so fun and also a guessing game why i feel alienated from traditional femininity

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

John Wayne (Bandit cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader) Part 1

Hiii! Inspired by the song of the same name by lady Gaga, and these two(flash warning for this one) edits of Predo Pascal(🤭) Not proofread, enjoy!

Cursing, making out, pet names, Miguel being a big ass flirt, slight nsfw but no smut. Mentions of hanging and death Lowkey highkey very cheesy and cliché but in a fun way.

(Y/N)- Your name.

Word count: 2.1k

Part 2

Masterlist

—

Bandits, cowboys, shoot outs, saloon fights, all things you’ve heard rumors about the Wild West while you lived in the city. Your classmates telling you stories they’ve heard from a long distance relative or from a friend of a friend of a friend.

But as you sit down at your fathers office at his new job, you couldn’t help but think that all those stories were nothing more than that. Stories. Lame, boring, make-believe stories. Who would have know that being the sheriff’s daughter in a dum-fuck nowhere town would have been so uneventful, on an exciting day, he’d lock up a drunk. You wish your parents had just stayed on the east coast as you let out an exasperated huff, dropping your pencil on your school workbook, and you lean back in his chair, letting your eyes wander to the ceiling.

“Alright O’Hara,” The muffled sound of your father’s voice was heard from the outside of the door, followed by some clinking. Causing you to sit in the chair properly before he appeared through the door. “Ima need you to sit tight in this cell for a few days ‘til the state sheriff is able to get down here and give me your reward money.”

To your surprise, a man in cuffs came through the door first. Your eyes widened in silent curiosity as you studied the new mystery man. You've never seen him in town before, because you were certain you would have remembered a man as handsome as him.

He’s getting arrested by my father what the fuck is wrong with me?

Your father didn’t acknowledge your presence, but that didn’t stop the other man’s eyes from falling onto you immediately. The definition of tall, dark and handsome, a towering frame, tan skin, semi-permanent wrinkles in between his brows and at the end of his lips, in indication he scowls too much, and his muscles, they could easily snap you in half if he wanted to. Dark worn out blue jeans, dust brown cowboy boots, a black hat, a flannel that emphasizes his arms with ever movement and-fuck he caught you staring. Warmth flared all over your face as you finally tore your gaze from his, barely catching the small smirk and hmph he let out in amusement. How could he not? When his captor’s daughter is checking him out.

It seems your father didn’t catch your wandering eyes, but he sure as hell caught his mischievous look in his, the rage quickly filling his face as he tossed the larger man in the cell quickly after taking off his cuffs. Locking him in before pointing an accusing finger at him with his right hand, while his left gripped the iron bars tight enough for his knuckles to turn white as he spoke. “Don’t speak to my daughter, don’t look at my daughter, don’t even think about my daughter.” He hissed the threat, before turning over to face you, visibly relaxing as his tone softened. “Ima step out of the room to make a few calls. Yell if he causes you any trouble darlin’.” You nodded, your fathers eyes traveled down to your abandoned work, “And finish your school work, you’re lucky to be attending college.” He added before leaving the room, an uncomfortable silence falling on you and the unknown crook. Keeping your eyes glued to your notebook despite your mind being elsewhere.

“So.” He finally spoke after cleaning his throat, moving to lean against the iron bars of his enclosure. “What’s your name preciosa?” He asked, his head tilting and his lips twitched upwards as he watched you. (Sweetie)

“My father told you not to talk to me.” You fumbled out almost too quickly, the words coming out rushed and almost panicked much to your dismay. Your face warmed up once more as you could feel his eyes bore into you, your eyes remained downwards, your hands balled into fist on your lap as you try not to think about him watching you as if you were in a cage and not him. You were certain if you met his gaze your combust into flash hotter than the sun.

He let out an unamused laugh, shifting his head forward as three of his fingers went to grab the rim of his cowboy hat, taking it revealing his disheveled brown locks, slightly wavy from being covered.

“Does it look like I’m the type to listen to authority, sweetheart?” God the nicknames were making you weak in the knees.

“Well, no-“

“Come on gorgeous,” He cooed, “indulge me.”

You bit on your bottom lip as you mentally battled with the idea, your father probably wouldn’t like the idea, but if it’s just your name, then what’s the harm right?

With a small sigh, you finally gain the courage to meet his gaze, almost dropping it immediately when you notice the look in his eyes. It reminded you of the way your kitten looks at a loose mouse. Like he would pounce on you if he wasn't confined.

“It’s…It’s (Y/N).” You finally utter, it came out meek, soft, you hated how it almost made you sound weak. His brow raised as he brought his hand up to cup around his ear, a silent way of asking you to speak up, but you could tell by the way his smirk pulled up he definitely heard you. With a huff and an eye, you repeat your name, with more confidence this time.

He released a low whistle as his hand dropped again, “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” You weren’t sure if you wanted to giggle at the compliment or roll your eyes at the cheesiness, his accident drawing out a bit more while emphasizing beautiful both times. You went with both.

“What’s your name?”you asked, getting up from the chair you were sitting in and making your way towards the cell, not too close but close enough for him to reach for your hand and gently raise it towards his lips, placing a gentle kiss on it, it made your whole body tingle as he threw you a quick wink and a playful smirk.

“Names’ Miguel O’Hara, but you can call me Mig.”

—

Your father had informed you that Miguel would be stuck with him for a few weeks, due to the state chief being preoccupied with the bounty on Jesse James’s head, they were close to changing him apparently and he had all his attention on him at the moment. When Miguel was informed he only scoffed and grumbled, seemingly moody that he wasn’t top priority. You found it funny, it’s as if he wanted a bigger prize money attached to him, coming out a few thousand short of the other man.

You would never admit it, not to your friends, not to your mother and especially not to your father, but you couldn’t help but grow a bit fond of the cowboy. It’s cliché you know, the daughter of a cop falling for the outlaw but it’s hard not too when he’s always complimenting you or calling you pet names, and he knew how to hold a good conversation.

You’ve never acted out too much with your parents before, always did good in school, never snuck out, never went out to meet boys that didn’t ask for permission beforehand. So when you caught yourself sneaking at your father’s work keys in the late hours of the night to sneak out of the house and into the station to talk to the man whose mere existence cost more then the pure-breed horse you took from the stall every night to visit, it was invigorating but also utterly terrifying in the chances of you getting caught. Despite your initial fear, it didn’t mean you didn’t start to get sloppy.

Both with sneaking out, and with the cowboy.

—

A yawn escaped Miguel’s chapped lips as he lazily rubbed his face, trying to fight off sleep as he shifted around in his overly small bed, the only light source he had was the beams of pale moonlight that was seeping from his barred window. Heavy eyelids began to close when they suddenly snapped open at the familiar sound of keys jangling and the rattling of the doorknob opening.

“Took you long enough gatita, though you forgot about me.” Miguel spoke as he watched you with once tired eyes that were now filling with a different emotion as he watched you place your hand lamp on your father’s desk before you head over to him, keys in hand. Although the words seem like a joke, his tone was low and anything but humorous. (Kitten)

“Had to make sure my family was asleep.” You attempted to justify yourself as you unlock his door, not even getting a second to put the keys back in your dress pocket before Miguel grabbed you and pulled you into his room, his mouth greeting yours in a hot needy kiss. The keys drop to the wooden floor with a loud clunk as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck and your fingers tug at the small curls at the back of his neck, only causing him to let out a groan at the pleasurable pain.

You too have been at it for about a week now, ever since your father informed you that the state sheriff would finally head down to your town to take Miguel of of his hands, he would arrive tomorrow morning, meaning tonight was your last with Miguel. He would be taken back to the state capital to be hung the following week.

“Ima miss these sweet lips darlin’…” He mumbled between peppering kisses down your jawline and towards your collarbone. A whine leaving your swollen lips you felt his large hands undo the buttons that cover your chest, leaving another dark hickey on you , before stopping for a second to admire his work. Seven hickeys, one for each day.

Your hands followed his lead, going under his sleeping shirt, wandering against his toned stomach, before he quickly pulled it off, turning you both around so your back was against the wall.

“Can’t get enough of you...”

“Me either…”

“Don’t forget about me (Y/N).”

“I won’t Miguel.”

Your lips quickly reunited with his as he started to drag the cotton fabric down from around your shoulders when the sound of the door office slamming opened caused you both to jump away from each other, a startled yelp escaped from you as you go to over your exposed breast.

Your eyes quickly darted to see who had opened the door, only to felt a lump build in your throat at the sight of your seething father, red face with anger as his shoulders rise and fell rapidly with each erratic breath he took.

“I thought I told you to stay away from my daughter!” He roared as he started to near the cell, making you quickly exit it, closing the door before standing in front of it so he couldn’t get to Miguel. “And you.” His eyes dropped to meet yours, anger, disappointment, betrayal, emotions you’ve never seen him directly towards you, it only made your throat tighter and your stomach drop. “I expect better from you. Do you know how many trains and banks he’s robbed! How many people he’s killed! I don’t want anyone like that near my daughter-“

“But father, I love him!”

Love. You’ve never once said that about a man in your life, you blurted it out without so much as a second thought. But it felt right.

This only made your father scoff. Not even caring about the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“You don’t know a thing about love.” He muttered in a low tone that made a shiver run down your back, his eyes narrowing down at you before gripping your forearm as he began to drag you out of his office, despite your best attempts to pull away from him. “It doesn’t matter either way. Tomorrow he’ll be gone, and next week he’ll be dead. You’ll never see him again.” He finished as he dragged you fully out of the building and back towards home, not showing one ounce of pity despite your cries making his heart ache.

—

Once he was alone, Miguel ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He couldn’t even have one last night with you before he’d leave your life forever. A heavy sigh turning into a panic curse when he went to lean against the stall door and to find it not support his body weight as it usually would. Stumbling a bit to regain his balance, it only took him a few seconds to realize that, in your father’s angry rampage, he had forgotten to relock his cell.

—

Taglist: @loser-alert

[ato-catto]

Due to popular vote:

Broly x Reader

Gentle.

"Be gentle." You soothed, handing the small animal into Brolys large hands.

You have been showing the tall saiyan around your home- and the woods stretching out beyond it. After so long on Vampa- and then Beerus World, he had had little opportunity to encounter the cyber things in life, and you where eager and determined to show him.

His dark eyes widened as the small white bunny organised all four fadded feet in his palm, before settling down to lick itself.

"What.. is it doing?" He asked, his tone low and soft.

"It's grooming itself." You smile, watching his face contort into an amused confusion.

He brought the bunny to eyelevel and watched with intruigement as it scooped its tongue over tufts of white fur.

"Strange.." he murmered, before the bunny- seemingly offended- hopped away.

"Off he goes." You smiled, crossing your legs on the grass under you. Broly sat back on his heals and watched as the bunny dissapeared under a bush, with a slightly solemn expression.

"Did I scare it?" He asked, turning to look at you.

"No. I think it just got bored." You smiled, leaning back on your hands.

"Oh.." he turned back to the bush but the bunny was long gone, leaving nothing but a dent in the grass behind.

You sat with him in silence, the warm sun beating down on your faces. The warmth brought a peaceful look to his usually solemn face, which sent happy flutters through your stomach. He closed his eyes and titled his face up to the sun, his shaggy hair falling down his shoulders. He let out a slow, contented breath and his shoulders relaxed, listening to the gentle chirp of the birds around him.

You smiled, watching him. He deserved the world- a gentle giant given the worst start to life.

He opened his eyes and turned to you, catching you mid-stare. Broly looked at you, as if to say 'what?'

You felt your cheeks heat into a blush, and turned to look at the grass.

"Is there.. something on my face?" He tilted his head. "Y/N?"

You couldn't look back at him, caught off guard by the sudden beating of your heart and the red raising to your cheeks. He looked.. glorious in the sun. His tan skinned glowed a delicious honey gold, and his dark eyes shimmered.

"Y/N?" He repeated, now leaning closer to touch you and get your attention.

"It's nothing!" You chirped, turning to him with a smile. "You just look happy, and that's making me happy."

Broly frowned. He knew what a blush indicated- he had spent enough time with others at this point to understand body language cues- and he related blushing to being uncomfortable, or flustered.

"Oh..kay.." He tilted his head. Perhaps she was too warm, then? No, she was sat in the shade.

You purse your lips- he was still staring. Like he could hear your thrumming heart.

'Please look away- please look away-' you beg inwardly, curling your toes inside your shoes.

"Y/N." Broly murmered. "Do not lie to me, please."

You turned to find him giving you the most earnest look, his dark brows furrowed over his eyes.

"I... I'm not lying to you-" Your voice was thick.

"Mm.." He leant closer accusingly.

You instinctively leant backwards. "I swear!"

"You shouldn't swear on a lie." Broly raised his eyebrows slightly, his eyes flicking about your face, taking in your expressions. "I can see you blushing."

He was too close. "Broly.. stop. I'm not blushing-"

His hand slowly raised and touched your cheek. "Warm." He stated.

"Okay so perhaps I am." You pursed your lips. The feeling of his hand on your skin left tingles of electric coursing through your face.

"Why?" He looked at your mouth.

Perhaps it was just out of vague interest as you spoke, but the fact that he looked.. made you audibly swallow. "Because you flustered me. You looked.. handsome.. in the sunlight."

Broly blinked. "You think I am... handsome?"

You let out a shaky breath. "Yes.."

"Well you are pretty. Very pretty." Broly murmered, not moving back. "And you look pretty in the sunlight, too."

His soft tone melted your heart, an even more intense blush growing on your face, spreading to your ears, which made him smile slightly. He moved forward slightly, compelled by a feeling in his chest, and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

You were caught entirely off-guard, hands automatically coming to his face and eyes fluttering shut.

You both looked the picture, sitting there in the sun, the burly tall Saiyan on his knees, pressing a tender kiss to your mouth. And you, your hair catching the rays, your cheeks pink.

Broly felt the feeling in his chest grow, using his size to push you flat against the grass, his mouth dancing against yours. A deep rumble came from within his chest as he settled between you thighs and caged you between his arms on the grass.

Your heart was gushing over, the feeling of his weight and lips on yours better than a dream come true.

His smell was unique, indescribably earthy and soft on the senses.

Broly parted to breathe, panting softly, opening his eyes to lock on yours.

"Thank.. you."

[zumurruds]

yall KILL me. he is based off ancient Greek people/culture. just because the man is tanned doesn't suddenly erase his proximity to whiteness. the conflict between vere and akielos is xenophobia, not racism, and conflating the two is so dangerous. it's seriously so disingenuous to try and use Damen as some sort of POC representation. the Fandom fuels the baseless critiques calling capri slave porn because they conflate any big tanned man with blackness. pls just stop.

so you agree, you think pacat is asking everyone to stop white washing a white man?

that’s so embarrassing for you bestie. let's break this down, shall we?

whitewashing and authorial intent:

pacat explicitly stated that whitewashing damen makes him “uncomfortable,” and is a “terrible and oppressive act.” this directly indicates that damen is not white, as whitewashing concerns arise only when characters of color are misrepresented as white. if damen were white, there would be no basis for these comments.

pacat has unequivocally stated that damen is not a tanned anglo-european, emphasizing his olive skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. this directly contradicts your claim that damen's racial identity can be reduced to mere tannedness. 

pacat's portrayal of damen as a character of color is clear in his own statements and the descriptions in the books, emphasizing damen's non-white features.

the very first marker we’re given about damen’s skin is in chapter one, when jokaste is taunting him. she says,

“I see why you prefer pale skin. Yours hides the bruising.”

meaning damen’s skin is dark enough to hide bruises. it’s also deliberately contrasting his own tone to paleness – he is not pale. later, after he’s been beaten, we’re told,

“his olive skin did not hide all the bruising”

meaning, he was beaten badly enough that these bruises, unlike the earlier ones, can show through. the detail that damen’s skin is so dark it hides bruising further emphasizes his deep, rich skin color.

against this, we’re told constantly about laurent’s “very fair” skin. we’re meant to picture laurent as being very, very white, and damen as noticeably darker. damen’s skin is also described as

"brown as a nut"

which is a significant indicator of his non-white identity. this description highlights a darker complexion that is distinctly non-anglo-european.

in prince’s gambit, a veretian woman distinguishes damen as akielon based on his accent and skin tone alone:

“He realized that she had heard his accent. He knew that he possessed the coloring characteristic of Akielos, especially of the southern provinces.”

this passage specifies that damen's foreign accent and darker complexion are key factors in his recognition as akielon. it also emphasizes that in akielos, particularly in the southern provinces, people tend to have darker skin tones. damen’s origin from the southernmost city further reinforces that he is meant to have a significantly darker complexion. this is an important textual clue that damen does not have stereotypically eurocentric features and cannot be mistaken for a white man.

to ignore all of the above is to ignore the author's intent and erase damen’s racial identity.

historical and modern diversity:

while akielos may draw inspiration from ancient greece, it remains a fictional world distinct from historical reality. damen's portrayal as a character doesn't rely on mirroring ancient greek demographics.

however, this point becomes moot when considering that both ancient and modern greece have been incredibly diverse, boasting populations that include individuals of various ethnic backgrounds, including black and brown people. the ancient mediterranean was a melting pot; rome conquered carthage, which is in north africa; various roman emperors were black, and the egyptians certainly were.

ancient greeks:

modern greeks:

your narrow and ignorant view of ancient civilizations overlooks the rich diversity that existed then and continues to persist today.

american context and projection:

your argument reflects an attempt to impose american racial categories onto a different context. racial identities and constructs are not universal. the insistence that damen must be either white or black ignores the complex spectrum of racial identities that exist outside of a binary american framework.

the term "w*g" is recognized as both a racial and ethnic slur in australia. to dismiss damen as white based on american racial categories overlooks the complexities of racial identity in other countries.

in the context of the series and the way pacat intended, being called a 'w*g' specifically indicates that damen is not considered white within his cultural framework. it is crucial to understand it within the series' cultural and historical context.

ignoring this context and imposing american perspectives on damen’s identity is both ignorant and disrespectful.

here’s a greek australian talking about their experience being labeled a w*g:

pacat joins in on the conversation and reaffirms that it is indeed a harmful racial slur used against ethnic groups:

your baseless accusation that i'm introducing race into the series is not only ignorant but absurd. pacat purposefully integrates this racial element into the story, crafting damen's character around his belonging to this ethnic minority, and consistently addresses it both within the narrative and beyond the confines of the books.

the flawed "proximity to whiteness" argument: damen’s culture in the fictional world of akielos might share similarities with ancient greek culture, which some perceive as part of the foundation of western civilization. this cultural proximity can lead to a false assumption that he is closer to whiteness. however, this view overlooks the racial and cultural diversity that existed in ancient greece and continues to exist today. ancient and modern greeks can have a range of skin tones and features. a perceived proximity to whiteness does not equate to being white, especially when pacat and the text clearly position damen within a context that marks him as non-white.

additionally, as a prince and a person of high status, damen might be seen as having privileges that align him more with whiteness, particularly in societies where whiteness is associated with power and privilege. however, racial identity is not negated by socioeconomic status, and to claim so is highly ignorant. moreover, the idea that a character’s "proximity to whiteness" negates their non-white identity is flawed logic. racial identity is not solely about skin tone but also about cultural, historical, and social contexts. pacat has clearly stated that damen is not white and has explicitly opposed the whitewashing of his character. ignoring this direct statement in favor of a misconstrued idea of damen’s “proximity to whiteness” disrespects pacat’s intent and damen's identity. pacat actively engages with w*g identity in the series: he wrote damen as a prince to counter the working-class connotation that w*gs are associated with in australia. when damen enters a northern or anglo-european country, he experiences a class shift and is viewed as a person of low status and culture, despite the high classical culture of his home – again the w*g experience in australia. his being marooned in a northern-european country and feeling a sense of ethnic/racial difference as well as a sense of cultural isolation is an analogy for the w*g experience living in australia.

none of this supports a “proximity to whiteness”, rather it only supports damen’s “otherization” in the text. pacat discusses how w*gs are othered in australia, illustrating the deep ethnic divide between w*gs and anglo-australians:

the argument that damen somehow has a “proximity to whiteness” and that it negates his non-white identity overlooks the nuanced racial and ethnic dynamics within the series.

damen's otherness is central to his character, highlighted by his experiences in vere. damen is frequently abused with racially loaded language by veretians that’s still used to vilify people of color in the real world (“cur,” “animal,” “brute,” "dog", “barbarian,” “savage”) and which has deep associations with the justifications used to enslave and oppress people of color in the modern era.

these terms, intentionally used by pacat, highlight the racial dimensions of the vere-akielos conflict, confirming that the series engages with themes of race and w*g politics, and that damen is meant to be read as a non-white character.

xenophobia vs. racism:

xenophobia and racism can and often do intersect. the argument that the conflict in the series is purely about xenophobia and not racism is a false dichotomy. the series illustrates how racial prejudice and cultural hostility can coexist and reinforce each other. by dismissing the racial aspect, you simplify and misrepresent the narrative.

discomfort with non-whiteness:

the insistence on damen’s alleged “whiteness” and "proximity to whiteness" reveals discomfort with engaging with non-white identities. it is an attempt to sanitize damen to fit a more comfortable, palatable narrative because you are uncomfortable with racial complexity and the implications that may have on your reading of the text or of other white characters.

engaging with complexity:

readers have a responsibility to engage with the text thoughtfully and acknowledge the racial and ethnic implications as intended by the author. ignoring these aspects isn't a valid interpretation, but a refusal to engage truthfully.

your remarks reveal a cognitive dissonance: fans acknowledge damen's darker skin but deny racial implications, selectively engaging with aspects of his identity to avoid criticism. this selective approach denies and erases essential elements.

fans should embrace the full complexity of characters and themes, including discomfort in addressing race and identity, as they do with other sensitive topics like abuse, incest, rape and trauma.

conflating issues and denying representation:

claiming that portraying damen as a character of color sparks baseless critiques confuses the issue entirely. acknowledging damen as a character of color is not just about ticking boxes — it's about respecting the author's intention and embracing the diversity in the world of captive prince, whether some like it or not.

for many readers who share the same ethnic background, pacat's creation of damen as a character for w*g representation holds significant meaning:

suggesting that recognizing damen as a character of color is "disingenuous" ignores the positive impact that diverse representation can have on readers.

pacat said he intentionally wrote damen as a positive representation for w*gs:

ignoring damen's racial and ethnic identity not only disrespects the author's vision but also diminishes the importance of diverse representation in literature. accurate representation matters for readers who see themselves reflected in these characters.

tl;dr

pacat firmly establishes damen isn't a tanned white man and emphasizes his otherness in the narrative. he cautions against whitewashing damen, explicitly labeling him as a w*g from a w*g country and vere as an anglo country. descriptions within the series accentuate damen's dark skin and features, contrasting him with fair-skinned veretians. the racially charged interactions directed at damen and other akielons by veretians throughout the narrative emphasize this. it all contributes to a specific racial construction that is taking place within the series.

[lilyginnyblackv2]

Buddy Daddies and Existing Outside of Social Norms:

I love how all of the named characters in Buddy Daddies has something about them that places them outside of societal norms. Some of them are more integrated into the regular systems and flows of society to some extent, but others are very divorced from it.

1. Kazuki, Rei, Kyutaro, and Ryo: They all work within an organization centered around assassination. 

We don’t know as much about Kyutaro and Ryo yet, but facts like how their names (either last name in the case of Kyutaro or both their first and last in the case of Ryo, seem to be aliases, due to them not existing at all or in the way they are written and read phonetically, also adds to this).

Meanwhile, Kazuki didn’t grow up with his parents. It seems he was a child who was part of the system. Many of these children often slip through the cracks.

And Rei...Well, Rei grew up within a hitman-based organization and did not have a normal childhood. We don’t know much about Rei’s past yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Rei didn’t get much traditional schooling (and therefore no traditional socialization) either because of this. We’ll have to wait and see on that though.

2. Misaki, Carol, and Dorothy: All women who work within the adult entertainment industry. This is an industry that faces discrimination in Japan still (for example, during the height of the pandemic, adult entertainment workers were excluded from the Covid Aid Package, thankfully, there was public pushback on this - link to an article discussing this topic will be in the comments below).

Misaki is also a single mother, which means she exists outside of the heteronormative “nuclear family” structure. Her being shown as a resentful mother is also something outside of the norm that is often presented of mothers in media (in general).

Meanwhile, in regards to Carol and Dorothy, we can see that Carol has darker skin. She may have naturally darker skin or she could tan her skin. Regardless, darker skin is often looked down upon on women (or fetishized due to the connection it has with the Gal street fashion, which is a whole other can of worms). And Dorothy’s two-tone hair makes her stand out instantly. 

Their names are also non-Japanese. They could be fake names that they use to sound more cutesy and appealing to customers (and for safety), but this could also be an indicator that they are biracial, which also makes them stand apart from “the norm” of Japanese society (despite the fact that number of biracial children in Japan is growing more and more with each year).

All of this is speculation that we may or may not get any further clarification on in the future regarding these two characters, regardless, their line of work and how they choose to express and present themselves makes them stand apart from the rest of Japanese society on some level.

The rest I’ll put under a Read More.

3. Yuzuko and Karin - Now, we don’t know much about Yuzuko, but her marriage to Kazuki instantly placed her outside of normal society, due to the nature of his work. 

And Karin states that she wants to study fashion abroad in France. The number of Japanese living permanently abroad is at a record high currently (as of 2023).

Her desire to learn and study abroad is an example of someone in the cast physically leaving the system and society in place in Japan. It’s for study, but it still shows her having a passion that requires her to exist outside of Japan.

5. Miss Anna - She works in childcare, an accepted field, and doesn’t have anything about her outward appearance that would set her apart (no tan skinned, no dyed hair). However, she isn’t skinny and that does set her apart from what is viewed as “normal” society. 

Being overweight in Japan is still viewed as rare, even though there are plenty of Japanese people who aren’t thin, however, the stereotypical image in society is still attached to thinness. That means Miss Anna exists outside of the societal norm. She won’t be able to walk into any clothing store in Japan and have any and all options available to her and there are also likely other issues that she faces in society because of her weight as well, that others simply would not, doubly so since she is a woman.

4. Miri - She is the product of a mistress and mafia boss. Her father was associated with the underworld part of society, and her mother is in an industry that is discriminated against (on a governmental level as previously noted). Now, she is living with Kazuki and Rei. She has always been in a family structure that was against the societal norms of the heteronormative nuclear family, but at least with her mother they shared a name. 

Whether Miri was registered under a koseki (family register) or not is unknown. But given the situation, it is possible she’s not or wasn’t. We don’t know exactly what Kazuki did for the forged paperwork to get her into daycare. But we do know that they all kept their own last names and that one of the themes the series wants to focus on is a “bloodless” family. So having a family set up like this and having Miss Anna point out that they all have different names, could be a social commentary on the koseki system, since it is so heavily tied to blood relation. (This is something I saw someone on Twitter mention).

Of course, we still have a number of episodes to go, so who knows how they will continue to handle Miri’s status in this regard, as well as the role of her mother, and if we will learn any more of how the relationship between Kazuki, Miri, and Rei is presented in the forged papers. 

We know that the “story” they are telling everyone is that Miri is a relative’s kid. Now, we know that Buddy Daddies takes place in Fukuoka, but what city isn’t made 100% clear (as of yet, as far as I know - if someone does know though, please feel free to share!). One city in Fukuoka, known as Koga City has a (ファミリーシップ) “Familyship” system in place (this is a system that allows same-sex households with children to be viewed as actual “families” and therefore have more access to rights, benefits, and tools that can help with childcare that a simple Partnership wouldn’t allow them access to).

In that system, the child in question has to be related to one of the people in the Partnership, either through birth or adoption (but in Japan, same-sex couples can’t adopt kids and adopted kids must change their last names to that of their adopted parents because of the koseki system). Miri could be viewed as being fostered by Kazuki and Rei, since same-sex couples are allowed to foster, but that still wouldn’t qualify them for the “Familyship” system. I’ll link to the Japanese page for Koga City that goes over the “Familyship” system for anyone interested. It also goes over the Partnership system too.

Anyway, given the nature of this series and how its focus is basically on found family and a bloodless family, I wouldn’t be surprised if Kazuki didn’t place them in a Partnership or Familyship and they are just existing as is. It would be the least “realistic” aspect of the more realistic child-care/SoL aspects of the series, but that may be due to the message they are trying to make. 

Of course, the above is all based on pure speculation, since we just don’t know the details of any of the forgery paperwork stuff. But, definitely some food for thought at the very least, and fitting for the “outside of normal society” message they have going on with all the characters thus far.

[ninjagirlstar5]

I love Haru, but he does deserve to get slapped every now and then for his pervertedness.

So, Haru is a pilot, that goes without saying with his hat and goggles as that's the most clear indication of his Ultimate Talent. His OG design was alright and I liked it as is. But I guess I just wanted to push his pilot design a little bit more while still keeping to his very casual look. So I, uh, replaced his vest with a bomber jacket. I'm sorry but I just wasn't feeling the vest as it looks like some kind of jacket that had it's sleeves ripped off and Haru decided to wear that cause he thinks it looks cool...which is actually pretty in character for him so it's not a bad design choice honestly, fkdgytdklymtlkym. I was just in the mood for a bomber jacket, so I gave Haru a bomber jacket. I just pushed the sleeves up juuust below the elbow to give the impression that he's pretty chill. When his temper is not flaring up, at least. But otherwise he's a pretty chill dude that just...wants to hang out and do dumb (perhaps even dangerous) teenage things and even go on a date or two. Anyways, back to the jacket, I also had it unzipped below his collar to again push the fact that he's pretty casual. But looking back on it now, I feel like I should've left the jacket completely open like his old vest. It would just fit his vibes better. But I decided not to go back and change the sprite simply because I was lazy and I didn't want to go through all the effort of erasing the linework and stuff. Just know the next time I draw him, I'm going to leave his jacket open. Also, I find it interesting that Haru's OG sprite has what looks to be a military symbol on his sleeve?? And his likes aside from women (of course) is also the military, at least according to the wiki. Which makes me think that Haru is a military brat of some sort, like one of his parents, probably his dad, was a pilot for the military or something. I could just be overanalyzing this but I don't think LINUJ would add these to his character without some kind of purpose. It'd be better if we actually had an idea of what his home life actually was, but alas, all we got in his FTEs was his love life (and his guilt over his role in Kiyoka's death, oof). Anyways, I decided to make that symbol on his sleeve a little more clearer on his jacket and I changed his necklace to dog tags to tie it all together. I found his blue necklace in his OG design kinda just...there...to fill in some space on his torso. And I thought it was kinda meh and out of place for such a plain necklace, so changing it to a pair of dog tags fits the whole military thing way better. After that, I changed his shoes to boots and gave him a ponytail cause...honestly, I just wanted to give him a ponytail. I love it when male characters have ponytails so Haru was lucky enough for my brain to go, "ponytail, now" while I was designing him. It kind helps his hair stand out when he's wearing his hat as it mostly covers his bangs in this redesign, not like in his OG sprite where tufts of his hair peaks out from underneath. Besides, I can see Haru being the kind of guy to grow out his hair, even if it's against regulations or something, like, say, occasionally serving in the military. For someone who seems to be interested in the military, perhaps even worked for it as a pilot, Haru actually has no issue in arguing against authority figures. No, seriously, if he's not arguing with Teruya in the killing game, he's butting heads with Kinjo. He may fall in line once, but if he has an issue with you, he doesn't hesitate to say it, regardless of your position. And with that, I just adjusted his color palette, desaturated his skin tone a little bit while making sure he remained tanned and that was it. Haru is done!

Man, I miss Haru. I feel like he really shined in Chapter 4 but I enjoy the little details of his character outside of his usual role of being the "comic relief."

[writingwithcolor]

Super specific ask, but I want to get it right!

I’m writing an Edwardian Era drama, featuring a noble young black man who grew up rather sickly, and was very studious and sheltered. As he prepares to inherit his father’s title, he comes into his own, becomes more active outdoors, and gets overall healthier.

Would it be inappropriate—or just plain inaccurate—to describe a change in his complexion as his health improves? I don’t mean he went from sickly pale (like the Victorian consumption aesthetic) to Suddenly Melanated. But like he went from being somewhat taupe to a more deep, rich mahogany shade.

If this is not appropriate or accurate, I can easily describe his change in physique and energy and not mention his skin at all. The only reason I wanted to at all was to cast dark skin in a positive light and not give colorism an inch.

Physically ill Black man, skin color gets richer as he gets healthier

Your Black character’s skin color becoming a deeper and richer brown is a good way to show the change in his health and is fine to mention. For one, dark-skinned people can have an ashen cast or duller skin when they’re not in prime physical health. Tones may also change with the seasons and amount of sunlight a person gets. 

For example: 

My skin is a richer brown in the summer. It gets even richer when I'm outdoors a lot. 

That “tan” starts to fade out with the fall and winter, as there’s less sunshine and I spend more time indoors. My skin remains brown, of course, just a less richer brown of the summer months.

Also, I wear sunscreen year-round and live in the Midwest, USA climate. 

Pictured above: Close-ups of my skin tone in early August, Late October, and late December. Photos taken with the same phone camera, the same year, in outdoors lighting.

How much someone might brown / tan varies by person, but brown skin indeed can change with the seasons and amount of light they get. So, with a Black character who is both physically sick and does not go outside much, it makes sense for his pallor to become richer in complexation as he gets more sunshine and is healing. 

Also, his browner skin indicates health improvements in your story, so you’re not implying anything negative in connection to dark brown skin.

~Mod Colette

[sketchfanda]

Kirishima’s Mystique: Beachtime Fun

The screen of the phone’s camera flickered into focus as it displayed a splendid view of a wonderful beach. The scenery a marvel of sparkling water, crisp white sand and the clear blue summer sky as the shoreline was thriving with a decent sized crowd. Families, couples and the like all gathered can be seen in the angle but showed where this shot was being taken was a more cozy and private little spot. The device was soon turned around on selfie mood to show us the familiar exotic bombshell form of UA class A student Mina Ashido as the cotton candy pink hottie shit a wink and a smile before blowing a kiss at the camera. Her toned and curvy form well displayed with an American flag two piece bikini and a glimpse ago tight stockings hugging high and snug on her healthy thighs. Her candy coloured skin displaying a healthy glistening sheen of sweat and tan oil as she licked her lips and swayed her hips, making Stars and Stripes clad bosom shake and jiggle. Comments and emojis popping into the screen indicating this was a live stream to boot,a red dot flasng in the corner along with a crossed symbol indicating 18 plus only viruses behind this point.

Mina:*purrs and giggles at some of the comments she was seeing, indicating they were off to a good start which only served to fuel her already spirited good mood.*”What’s uo to my fellow cute and sexy bitches and a few of you lucky,well deserving studs on here. Yiur alien queen Pinky here and of course I’m not alone. With me here is my wonderful girlfriend Maya…..”*the camera shifts to show the shapeshifting hottie senpai, who was rocking her more casual incognito quirkless look. The form still,packin her natural gained tones and curves as her blue hair marked her natural exotic nature and her white two piece was transparent due to the healthy sheen of perspiration she had,as she gave a sensual lick to the Pepsi ole she had and adjusted her thong, giving a wink and smile her own.*”Aand our one and only chivalrous stud boyfriend Eiji….”

Kirishima:*laughs nervously as he found the camera on himself, his massive gains on display thanks to the knee length baggy black and red swimshorts he had on. Rubbing his spikey red mane idly as he shook his head and waved to have the camera away in futility.* “Come on Mina,you two are ludicrous and this is ridiculous,Yiu bith know that….”

Maya:*casually,with sensual affection sat in the beach towel,straddling one half of their boyfriend’s lap. Effortlessly deepthroating the popsicle as she finished it. Discarding the stick into a bucket acting a trash can form them as she nuzzled him,one arm hugging around thst strong neck his.*”And you love the both of us for it,handsome. Why else are you still here and doing it anyway? Oh yeah because it’s “the kind of thing a real man would do to satisfy his love life” right?” *the shapeshifter playfully teased, giggling at the adorable pout Kirishima gave her for teasing him with his personal philosophy in life. But the could tell he wasn’t mad in the slightest as the shapeshifting hottie pressed her luscious lips to his.*

Mina purred and giggled at the liplock before her,shooting a wink at the camera as she set down and adjusted her phone to ensure it had a nice angles and view. Catching their bodies on the screen as she went over to their blanket, adding herself to the make out as Kirishima and Maya moaned,their tongues dancing in one another’s mouths as surfer babe exchange student delighted in caressing snd tracing those gleaming, shark like teeth. While their bubblegum coloured lover set on the other half of his lap,straddling his powerful thigh as she leaned in to add her own lips to the kiss. A three way tango of tongues swapping spit together as their hands caressed and massaged their stud’s sculpted muscles. His own drifting to grab and squeeze those juicy bubbly asses of theirs, the assmeat firm and plump to his touch, groaning as his girlfriends’ hands soon made their way to the crotch of his swimshorts. Stroking his rod as it began to swell and bulge within, a tent beginning to pitch before the sex kittens tugged down the waistband. Comments pouring in from the female stream viewers either witnessing the sight of such a naked cock for the first time or regulars heaping showers of sensual praise for such a magnum song. The erotic duo’s hands grasping and stroking that rigid bitch pleaser as Mina coated her psalms and digits with a harmless lower ph level of her acid. The citrus scented liquid soaking and lubing uo their chivalrous man’s cock as he groaned from such a sudden assault of pleasure,a tingle running up his spine as he remembered this was being recorded and viewed.

Rated-R Sensei:”Mmm still as lengthy and girthy as the day I popped his v card. Rock their world stud…”

Swole Bunny 5:”Hot that’s as big as my gummy bear…”

Paris Doll:”oh wow….”

The sounds of the phone dinging with every new comment and of course very generous donation pouring in, spurring snd urging the dynamite babe duo on to take it further,as they began to kiss and lick their way down along Eijiro’s Adonis body. Taking their sweet time as they went along his firm pecs and sculpted washboard abs before they found their faces level with his length and girth. The familiar erotic scent making their pussies quiver and gush as they stroked his shaft, mina’s natural lube making it slick and glistening, eben giving his balls a caressing firm squeeze. Before soon proceeding to conduct a tag team fellatio, kissing and licking that bitch pleaser from base to tip, taking turns sucking snd blowing as they deepthroated him with the ease of intimacy and experience. One babe bobbing head as the other sucked on his balls or licked at what was exposed or Especially takin turned together,making out with his rod between them, the tip being assaulted by their skilled tongues. Eijiro not being idl either of course he massaged those juicy asses, making them gasp and moan with sensual delight as he’d give their firm smacks. Maya shuddering as her quirk acted up,her quirkless form shimmering briefly to her natural blue scaly self while Mina’s cotton candy self glistened with a fine sheen. Before he began asserting his status as their alpha male by plunging his hand down the back of their thongs, fingers plunging into their slick gushing slits, two fingers each knuckle deep as their nectar soaked him up to the wrist. Any hesitation or nervousness on his part had eroded away against the pornographic tag team magic of his two lovers. Meaning their viewers were now really in for a hell of a show.

Eijiro:”Aaa damn Mina…You know your healthy thighs are unbeatable…”*he groaned out,as Mina sat in his lap,his cock between those aforementioned parts as she flexed and pumped them. Massaging his shaft as generous amounts of pre flowe snd sprayed. Her tits bouncing loose from her bikini top as her thing layer aside,stripped and discarded as her her pussy closed,adding extra lubrication to her thighjob. Maya sitting beside them,having shed her own bikini entirely as sh shamelessly playing with herself. The camera seeing her plunge her hand into her own slit and the other groping her tits as she kissed and licked along their man’s neck and shoulders, even sensually licking him for good measure.*

Maya:”mmm cum 5 times so fsr and you’re still so hard without using your quirk yet? You’re getting so much better handsome…”*The shapeshifting hottie quipped before she moaned as she felt her lover’s teeth nibble and his tongue probed her snatch. Her own sensual thighs wrapped around his head as he ate her out. Laying stop his Herculean form as they were in 69 position. Her tits sandwiching his cock as she performed a boob job,licking and kissing what was exposed as Mina massaged her back,using her safe harmless acid to make her slick and shiney acting as a body and tanning oil. The flickers of Maya’s real form adding an exotic spice.*

Mina:”Aahn Eiji!! So deep! Fuck me baby,make me have to take maternity leave!! Remind me what a real manly man You are!!” *Just a few of the many lewd praises and dirty talk thst came forth from The alien queen they called Pinky as she rode her stud cowgirl style. Tits bouncing shamelessly as Maya smacked and squeezed that jiggling bubblegum booty, tongue rimming her donut hole pucker as she shifted to be as long as Tsuyu’s while Kirishima grasped those stunning hips.*

This was but a small sample of the sort of variety the viewers on the stream found themselves enjoying. The trio enacting any number of positions and combinations shifting between one on one to two on one. The love and lust between them on display shared in equal measure of give and take. At some points from orgasming so intensely Mina’s pussy would squirt and erupt like a geyser while Maya found herself shifting randomly in between her natural exotic true blue form and her equally hot sexy quirkless look. One moment one of them would be sitting on his face having him eat them out as the other rode his shaft with abandon,pressing their lips together in a sloppy kiss of thirsty passion. The next woould see one of his exotic lovely ladies take it from him doggy style, their tits and ass jiggling and swaying as she ate the other girl out, drinking up the flow of juices akin to a man dying of thirst having found an oasis. Or Mina and Maya laying atop each other, French kissing as their man railed away like the cave man he was. To say nothing of how whenever he was one on one with either of them, he never wasted a chance to size opportunity to put those flexible,toned thicc bodies of theirs to the limit. Spread eagle,doggy style,seated lotus but oooh how wild and deep he got when he had them in a mating press. Small wonder he was manly enough to have two girlfriends, and the stamina and endurance to match quite the primal libido he had. Of course naturally the stream's conclusion would see them bask in the afterglow and later return to the heights alliance dorm but that was just the natural routine when it came to the KMM threesome, to say nothing of the donation records they'd set. Until the next stream of course. Hey when you had a boyfriend like Eijiro Kirishima and he could satisfy two hot sexy bombshells, how can he not deserve two girlfriends who loved to show him off?

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic september 10 - pottery - 1430words - M

cw: explicit language, mention of sex

and welcome to part 2 of lune generating random dates for the jegulus microfic prompts she hasn't done yet

“Alright guys, my co-instructor just texted me he’ll be another 20 minutes so we’re gonna start without him,” their pottery instructor tells them. Mary, she seems about Pandora’s and Regulus’ age, early twenties, with warm brown skin and a head of beautiful dark curls. 

Pandora sighs dreamily as she levitates down onto her stool. Regulus snorts. 

“So,” Mary goes on with a bright grin, “First we’re gonna want to get real nice and cozy with our station. We’re gonna get dirty regardless and we’ll wanna have a firm grip on our clay so spread your legs and get right in there.”

She explains the first few steps, throwing the clay and that they shouldn’t mind if their chunk isn’t exactly in the middle since that’s what the next step, centering, is for.

Regulus flinches when Pandora slams her clay down on her bat with a thunk and then rolls his eyes fondly when she gives it a wet slap of her palm, smiling deviously.

Regulus follows similarly and then wets his clay, like instructed.

He’s been coning and flattening, reshaping and centering his piece for a good dozen minutes now. Splattered with wet clay—his apron looks worse than Pandora’s somehow even though her cone nearly threw her off her stool several times (nothing a little close proximity help from lovely Mary couldn’t fix, smelling of apples and cinnamon, according to Pandora’s excited giggles) and if the way the skin of his forehead stretches when it pulls into a scowl every few minutes is any indication there’s a few dried blotches on his face as well.

Half of the attendees are already done centering their piece perfectly, talking in gentle tones and mixing with the lofi music in the background. And it should be soothing and enjoyable and an overall pleasant experience if it wasn’t for the fact that Regulus might explode in the next 5 to 15 seconds if he doesn’t get his stubborn piece of fucking clay to—

Of course, because the universe hates Regulus, that’s when there’s the sound of the bell jingling above the front door of the shop and what might be the most attractive man Regulus has ever seen walking in.

Smiling breathlessly, pulling off his snow covered beanie and unzipping his jacket with fervor.

Regulus is going to have a meltdown.

“Finally, James,” Mary says from right next to him and Regulus startles.

“Sorry, sorry,” the most attractive man Regulus might’ve ever seen, James apparently, winces. He quickly strips the rest of the way—he’s wearing a sinfully tight long sleeve with an obscenely wide cut neck, revealing collarbones Regulus wants to get his mouth on in no less than 40 different ways—then snatches the other apron hanging behind the counter.

His light jeans are low on his hips as he rounds the stations with ease, coming closer to where Mary stands, behind Regulus, and still sporting that lopsided, gorgeous grin of his Regulus can feel himself losing multiple brain cells every second because of.

James gives his co-instructor a quick side hug, which she uses to sucker punch him in the stomach, presumably for being late.

James only huffs a laugh as she whisks away.

Then, horrifyingly, looks right down at Regulus and just– keeps grinning.

Regulus has no idea what his hands are doing right now. The bat might not even be spinning anymore. Maybe it is. If he has to reshape his clay again he is going to throw a temper tan—

“Hi, there,” James says warmly. To Regulus.

Regulus swallows. “Hello.”

James, the most attractive man Regulus might’ve ever seen and apparently, now, pottery instructor, nods his chin at Regulus’ station, “Need any help?”

Regulus blinks.

Feels his face fall into a scowl, “What is that supposed to mean?”

James’ grin adopts a playful edge which Regulus doesn’t find funny at all. And then he opens his mouth again, “That it looks like you could use some help.”

Regulus decides that James can take his stupidly gorgeous face and slutty top and fit body elsewhere because he does not appreciate the arrogance. How did this man become a pottery instructor?

“No thank you,” Regulus snaps and promptly turns his back.

And James– immediately just leans down over him, eloping him in warmth that smells equal parts chilly outside air, spicy rich cologne and then something that must be just James. “That’s not really the point of taking pottery lessons though, is it? Doing it alone.”

Regulus’ body is so tense all over he fears he might combust. “I’ll gladly wait for Mary then.”

James tuts, “Of course not, she’s way too busy and I only got here, didn’t I?”

Regulus opens his mouth to retort but James cuts him off again, ducking even closer, “Besides, I think you might already be my favourite student.”

Regulus feels the flush rise into his cheeks, “Why would I?”

James shrugs, “Just a feeling.”

“The feeling is very much not mutual.”

“Let me change your mind then.”

When Regulus looks back James is closer than expected and he has to blink him back into focus.

When he doesn’t say anything for too long apparently James eyebrows rise prompting behind his gold-rimmed glasses.

“Fine,” Regulus sighs explosively and turns back to his clay.

He can hear the shit-eating grin in James voice when he says right against the shell of Regulus’ ear, “So polite.”

Regulus nearly collapses on the spot.

Then follows an excruciating 10 minutes of James adjusting his body into prime position to mould the clay to his will.

He steadies his waist and effortlessly nudges Regulus’ stool even closer to his station, spreading his legs ridiculously wide. Then takes Regulus’ elbow and guides it into his hip, showing him how he’s able to use his full body weight then. 

Once Regulus has the stance James starts guiding his hands. With his own hands. With his own much bigger and stronger hands.

Shows him where to press with the heels of his palms, when to add more water for the consistency to be smooth and buttery.

Once Regulus gets the hang of it it works wonders on his work ethic, though he could do without his half hard length digging into his abdomen.

James keeps checking on him every so often when they move into forming their piece, always ducking low and recurring touches and mumbling praise when he gets it. It makes Regulus go insane between the urge to pull the half formed bowl off his station and smash it into James’ stupid face and sink to his knees and suck him off on the spot.

When he’s done Regulus gives his piece a last slow swirl on his bat to scan for any uneven spots on his bowl, chest swelling with pride and the corners of his lips lifting when he finds none.

When James sees he grins and winks at him from across the room. He helps Regulus get his piece off the bat unscathed and then brings it into the adjacent room for him. 

Pandora finishes her wobbly bowl a few minutes later and beams when Mary gives her an approving nod and a cheeky smile.

More and more people start trickling out after cleaning their stations and calling their thanks and goodbyes until suddenly Regulus finds himself alone with James in the big room.

Small sponge in hand as James switches the light off in the front of the shop.

Regulus blinks, eyes wandering to the wardrobe but sure enough Pandora’s jacket still hangs right next to his coat on the rack.

Then there’s a crash and a loud moan from the room where the drying pieces go and when Regulus looks over James is already smiling smugly.

He closes the distance slowly and Regulus sets down the sponge and wipes his damp hands on his apron.

“Listen,” James rumbles, setting his hands loosely on Regulus’ hips slow enough so he could pull away, “I’d love to take you out on a date first but this is kind of getting me going.”

Smirking when, as if on cue, there’s another debauched noise from the other room.

Regulus rolls his eyes. “Oh, you’re actually insufferable, aren’t you?”

James’ grin widens and he wiggles his eyebrows, “Only one way to find out.”

Regulus hums, setting his palms against James’ torso, “Yeah, I’m known for making bad decisions.”

James laughs like he didn’t just insult him. “There’s a small office behind the door next to the counter.”

“Couch?”

“Desk.”

“Let’s hope your cock matches the ego then.”

James barks a laugh and kisses him.

[rejectclone]

Here’s some super rough bust doodles of my interpretations of the S4! 🍛🌺☢️💀

See below for like some brief explanations for each minor change, since honestly I’m content with how they appear in the manga buuuuuut of course I had to add some minor design changes that are relevant to some of my fav design tropes lol 🦑

🍛 ARMY 🔫

- He is the shortest in terms of height and bodily proportions in the entire S4, yet he’s also somehow the most ‘angular’ in a odd way. Short ears, yet they’re upturned and pointed, large pointy eyebrows but they’re very wide, the only one with a slightly smaller head yet a more pointy chin, smaller tentacles but with a more pronounced pointed tip, etc.

- His eye black grease/face paint is a bit more loose, to further show that he’s loosed up a BIT over the years, and is no longer that meticulous about applying it. He still wears it 24/7 though, even to sleep!

- Out of the entire S4, his skin is somehow the most clean with barely any indication of scars on it, as he takes healing any of his turfing injuries very seriously. Because of this, he is considered to have a baby face (much to his dismay, as he WANTS to look intimidating) even though the rest of his body is actually CUT and toned, due to him having a rigorous daily training routine (based upon the drill routines that were used during the Great Turf War….. he is REALLY into studying war history/LARPing as a Great Turf War solider lol)

🌺 ALOHA 🌊

- Average in terms of height with no real stand out features to his appearance, other than his ears being slightly longer and thinner, and his eyebrows being very thin as well. He does have some freckles that go across his face and neck/top half of his chest, and some that go down the back of his shoulders.

- Even though he spends such a excessive amount of time outdoors, and thus he should have a pretty dark tan, he applies sunblock HEAVILY. He still has a bit of a minor farmer’s tan when taking his namesake’s shirt off, but you honestly really can’t tell the difference.

- As a avid surfer, he is quite physically fit as well, but his muscle definition isn’t that developed. He’s got more of a slight ‘washboard’ physique (basically he DOES have abs, but they’re still kinda flush against the flat smoothness of his stomach/chest, and are not that pronounced), and thus he relies more on his bombastic personality to catch the attention of others than relying on his pseudo-pretty boy appearance.

☢️ MASK 👾

- CHRONICALLY ILL 24/7. The near-permeant case of hay fever he has is quite visible in regard to it’s impact on his appearance and body. Pale skin, massive and dark eye bags, bleary eyes, droopy ears, sagging tentacles, and of course the near-constant string of runny snot/translucent ink that dribbles out of his nose. He wears a gas mask for a reason, as it’s really the only excessively effective piece of gear on the market that can protect him from some common allergens.

- His skin tone is visibly more pale due to his illness, to the point where his body’s ink is actually visible THROUGH his skin. It appears as slightly blurry patches of turquoise ink, popping up pretty much anywhere across his body, and they come and go often. All of his body’s skin is quite thin, thus making this possible. In a way, this made piercing his ears with gauges, although he did bleed pretty badly….. for a short moment thankfully.

- Due to his illness, he tends to slouch constantly, but if told to stand fully upright, he actually QUITE TALL. The second tallest out of the entire S4, but of course this isn’t that noticeable due to his slouching and also how long and disheveled his clothing tends to be as well (minus his gas mask, which is in very pristine condition!). His thin and lanky body physique does lend well in battle shockingly enough, as he can swim in ink MUCH FASTER without the need of any swim speed up abilities on his gear, as it’s more or less a naturally latent ability to him.

💀 SKULL 🍭

- You thought Mask had some pretty prominent facial features? Well, Skull is akin to Mask, in terms of also being chronically ill, but with a WHOLE other condition that is a more….. Intense. He wears his infamous bandanna for a reason, mainly to cover up his gargantuan beak overbite. His eyemask is MUCH more darker and larger, the iconic lack of eyebrows and instead having a pronounced brow, the two rings in his eye, his constantly standing-up tentacles (that also have some small sharp teeth in them…. hmm….), and some weird deep purple birth marks that streak across his entire backside of his body, all the way up to his neck….. Plus the fact that he towers over the rest of the S4 and MOST of the entire inkfish population is notable too. Plus he’s ripped, just utterly blowing Army and Aloha’s physiques out of the water.

- When taking off his bandanna, he immediately starts to sweat profusely, as he really, REALLY loathes exposing his entire face to pretty much anyone. Only Aviators, Vinatge, Mask, and Goggles (in that order) have seen his entire face when unobscured, and Goggles seeing his face was more or less a fluke, during their rematch.

- While he is actually kinda against body modification (due to already being deeply disturbed by his own) he still got two small piercings on his left ear, in a way to further push the public perception of him being a very intense and terrifying captain, as it does gives him a slight psychological advantage against weaker enemy teams in Turf War. He used to cover up his purple birthmarks with concealer, but after realizing how much of a tedious pain it was to apply it Every Single Day on his entire backside, he began to lie on how it’s a massive abstract styled tattoo. He did this to further push the ‘scary, badass, no-survivors Captain’ aura that had been applied to him by the eyes of the public. While he knows that he isn’t that cruel or mean in reality, he does lean on this misconception a lot, to get his way though anything.

[mskoreodyssey]

RGU Concept

Dueling Games - Rose Bride

When I see the actual gown Utena worn as Akio’s bride, it matches his lavender hair. This fact was proven in the series’ manga and anime. Although it indicates that Tenjou becomes another bride to be exploited by End of the World himself. The second gown would improve a different concept for an alternate timeline. Utena being indoctrinated into Akio’s culture through not the outfit, but the color itself. Himemiya’s bright red dress showcases her dark complexion, Tenjou’s crimson gown highlights her cool-toned skin. Visually, Utena appears as a Japanese girl getting married in an Indian wedding. While she wears the traditional gown, the dark shade of red helps her stand out. Since Tenjou is proud of being a girl, while not conforming to gender norms. It was a play on both Indian and Japanese culture. Representing the dueling forces like Akio and Utena.

This western lady named Jamie is engaged to an Indian, who in which she’s in love with. Jamie needs a certain lehenga to wear for a traditional Indian wedding, and the known color for it is bright red. While choosing which one to don officially, she realizes you need a tan skin to wear a bright red dress. This caused her to feel uncomfortable about it. Which was why Jamie chose a dark red to compliment her skin tone. I was inspired by her choice in lehenga, especially the color.

[Link]

[hopefulatrocity]

From The Ashes Chapter 6

Note: Daryl's POV of his first sights of Pheonyx. I'm excited to give a description of Pheonyx's tattoos. Meanings will be explained throughout the whole story.  This chapter ended up running longer than I intended so I split it in two.  Also, some of Daryl's thoughts are transphobic(thoughts about body shape indicating gender, etc) but he also doesn't have experience with trans people outside of just being aware they exist. It will take time for Daryl to relearn what he knows but it will happen. Also the internal denial and homophobia makes me so sad for Daryl. 

Chapter CW/TW: internal homophobia, transphobia, descriptions of past abuse, denial of sexuality?(Not sure how to describe it), tattoos, self-deprecating thoughts

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @omiyours

Banner by: @liminal-creations​ 

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DARYL'S POV

When he pulled up in front of the picturesque farm house, he hadn’t expected…. Well, he hadn’t expected him. The old man, the older woman, the girl who had brought Lori to the farm, and even the two teens. They fit perfectly in front of the white house with the wrap around porch. They looked like the type of people who went to church every weekend with their pristine white clothes and floral dresses. The type of people who would preach love and acceptance but would be spreading hateful rumors during the church potluck. The same people who turned their noses down at him and Merle, when they were kids, just because they were related to Will Dixon. But the man standing on the porch definitely did not fit that profile. 

Leaning on the porch railing, a stocky hound mix standing at this side, was a man whose eyes radiated sorrow and hardship despite their steely edge. Both emotions were in ready supply since the world ended but this was different. With most people, their grief could be seen on the surface of their eyes. It was a recent pain for most of them, the ones in his group especially, because they hadn’t experienced loss or extreme austerity until a few months ago. This man’s pain was soul deep. Only someone who had lived through something terrible had eyes like his. They were haunted. Eyes that had obviously seen darkness in the world, whether it be recently or before the veil of normalcy was lifted when the dead rose. Daryl would know. He saw the same thing whenever he looked in the mirror. He saw it in his brother’s eyes as well. It wasn’t just the man’s gaze that made him noticeable, though. It was his appearance, too. 

When Daryl first saw the tattooed man, he had to take a second to appraise him. His mind wanted to say this person was a girl. He had a softness to his curves and his face that hinted at femininity. The gray tank top he wore clung to his sides and silhouetted a slight hourglass shape that most men didn’t typically possess. As he started walking down from the porch, though, Daryl threw that notion out the window. This person was all male. There was no sway to his hips, like most girls Daryl had met, and his overall gait just emanated masculinity. His mannerisms reflected this. He placed himself slightly in front of his group, specifically the girl with short brown hair, and had his hand planted on the gun at his side. He was tense, and ready to protect these people with his life. The women Daryl had been around, before and after the world went to shit, didn’t stand like that. All of this had him concluding that this person was wholly male.

He looked to be just a couple inches shorter than Daryl’s 5 '10 " height with short, thick brown hair that was streaked with blonde from long hours in the sun. His skin reflected this and was tanned to a nice golden tone. The softness of his face made him look like he was no older than 16. But Daryl knew with professional tattoos like the ones adorning his arms, he would have had to be at least eighteen to get them at a tattoo shop. He looked young but Daryl’s instincts told him that the man was in his late 20’s.  The gray tank top he wore was clean but the jeans were worn from work and frequent wear. Knees torn and stained brown from dirt. The other people were all unarmed but this man had several weapons on his person. A curved, thin sword of some type was encased by an obviously homemade sheath.  The leather was sewn together with care and looked soft even from a distance. A handgun was holstered on the other hip with a hunting knife next to it. He also had a bow and quiver slung over his shoulders. Shoulders that were adorned with beautiful artwork. 

These tattoos weren’t the type that most of the people he knew had. They weren’t shitty pieces done by scratchers in dirty trailers. Hell, even a few of his own were pieces like that. Bad decisions made while drunk, under pressure from his brother, or just plain youthful stupidity. The man’s tattoos would have taken dozens of hours of work and months of healing. There was thought put into each, as they blended seamlessly with each other. As Daryl got closer, and the man moved to stand next to the girl that took Lori to the farm, he was able to decipher each one. On one arm, a large medusa was depicted in a gothic style. The snakes of her hair wrapped around his bicep, almost slithering with each movement of his muscles. One trailed up his shoulder and over his neck until the flicking tongue was just under his ear, almost as if the reptile was whispering secrets to him. The once-priestess’s eyes were completely black with lightning-like lines spreading from the voids. The only speck of color in the tattoo was the pomegranate that Medusa held in her hands. Blood seeped from the seeds and down into the tattoo on his forearm. The crimson drops trailed down the branches of a lifeless oak tree. The thin branches were all black and cracked, scratchy in style, leading to the twisted trunk that was covered in knots. Dead brown leaves hung loosely on some of the branches. At the base, the roots wrapped around his wrist, like a morbid bracelet. Like the Medusa tattoo, there was only one speck of bright color; a green oak leaf connected to a small acorn that was falling to the ground near the roots. The lines of the roots of the tree lead into the snarling wolf face on his hand, bright blue eyes seeming to glow from his skin. 

On his other arm, his hand had a skull that was shaped from smoke, all of the lines wispy and gray. The eye sockets were the same bright blue as the eyes of the wolf on his other hand. The smoke it was created from was coming from a geometric gothic style dragon that wrapped around his forearm like a snake. The scales of the body were made up of triangles and diamond shapes, almost like a creepy dot-to-dot piece. Smoke was leaving its mouth and, along with his hand, the smoke led into the tattoo on his bicep.  The muscled upper arm was decorated with a realistic scene fit from a dark storybook. Almost like a scene from the Rapture, red fire and smoke rose from the earth. Dead bodies littered the ground, swords through some, others broken like dolls. Creatures that looked like demons, their eyes an even brighter red than the flames in the background, were feasting on the corpses depicted on his arm. High in the clouds on his upper shoulder, an “angel” was looking down, as if watching the carnage unfold. But, to Daryl, the “angel” looked no better than the creatures on the ground. Its wings were black and broken. The feathers were patchy and some areas were bald. The gown the “angel” wore was torn and looked as if it was blowing in the wind. And the eyes. Its eyes were completely black. Fangs were descended from lips that smirked at the slaughter it was witnessing. Daryl wondered if there was any certain meaning behind the tattoo, because it was eerie. He wondered what emotions or events could inspire such an image. There were more dark lines on his chest that peeked from underneath the collar of the shirt he wore. But Daryl couldn’t make out what they were. All of the tattoos on his skin were masterpieces and evoked intense feelings from him. He tried to convince himself that that was the reason his eyes kept traveling over the man’s form. It definitely wasn’t the lean muscles that roped over his body. Or the way his skin glistened with a small amount of sweat from the blistering heat. Or the way his green eyes reminded Daryl of the woods he always found a home in. Or the way the jeans he was wearing encased perfect thig-

As he was appraising the other man, light green eyes locked with his own and he had to suppress the shiver that went down his spine. A breeze must have been blowing through and cooled the sweat on his skin. That was the only obvious reason for his reaction. He wasn’t gay or bisexual or whatever else. True, he found some men attractive, but most men did. Didn’t they? And while he rarely felt sexually attracted to women, he still did on occasion feel it. He wasn’t a virgin, he had had hookups with women in the past, so he was obviously straight. He hadn’t slept with or kissed a guy so he obviously wasn’t gay. In truth, Daryl had thought about it though. There were times where he wanted to do those things with other men. In those moments though, he could hear the raging voice of his father in his mind. He knew if Will Dixon had ever suspected that Daryl held carnal feelings for other men, that he wouldn’t live to see another day. He suspected the same for his brother. The Dixon brothers cared for each other and would die for one another. But Daryl knew that Merle was more like his father than he wanted to admit. Growing up, Daryl had learned to tune out his father’s prejudiced rants–mostly about black people but his father hated anyone who wasn’t a white straight male– but Merle had soaked in all the hate. Daryl always suspected it was because his brother wanted to connect with their dad in some way that didn’t involve a leather belt. Merle may have hated the man, but inside he was still a little boy that was vying for his father’s affections. And as he grew older, Merle used those hateful words their father used, to push people away. It was better to be alone than to have someone in your life that might hurt you in the future. Daryl did the same thing, but in a different way. He just avoided people. It was isolating at times, but usually he had his brother to fill the void of loneliness. When he was angry or wanted to keep people from getting closer, his anger would get the better of him and he would lash out. He always hated himself in those moments. Because it wasn’t his words coming out of his mouth, it was his father’s. The same cruel rhetoric, that damaged his heart growing up, was a weapon he used when he felt cornered. Like a wounded animal fighting tooth and nail to survive. 

Those moments aside, he tried to be everything his father wasn’t.  So, he tried to avoid the prejudices he grew up with as much as he could. He had no problems with people of other races and he felt that other people’s genders/sexualities weren’t any of his business. If anyone had bothered to ask, he would have told them that. But often people’s views of him were colored by his brother and father. They were racist, homophobic, xenophobic, transphobic, and sexist, so Daryl must be as well. While he missed his brother, part of him hoped that now the group would see him outside of his brother’s shadow. 

Having been lost in his own thoughts, Daryl almost missed the conversation between Dale, Lori, and Rick. Thankfully, Carl would be okay. A slight bit of relief filled his body. They had one kid missing, they didn’t need another to be on his deathbed. Truthfully, he liked the little guy. Of all the kids at the Quarry, Carl was never afraid to greet Daryl and his brother. He would often ask incessant questions about what they were doing and ask them to teach him how to hunt and skin animals. Merle would try to scare the kid away but Carl wasn’t easily swayed. Daryl had been tempted to teach the kid some survival skills but his mother’s reaction whenever she saw Carl near the Dixons was enough to put that idea to bed. She would immediately drop whatever she was doing and come pull the boy away, muttering apologies for bothering the men.  Lori babied the boy and Daryl knew she would never allow the kid anywhere near a knife to skin animals. Let alone spend hours alone in the woods with two rednecks. Otherwise he might have considered it. The kid was smart and he had a fire in his eyes that piqued Daryl’s curiosity. The idea of that flame being burnt out made him feel nauseous. 

Rick told the group that Shane was responsible for saving the boy’s life, and everyone gave him nods of appreciation. Daryl narrowed his eyes though. Something was off about the man now. Baggy clothing and buzzcut aside, something had changed in the man since he last saw him. Shane was a narcissist with a savior complex and normally ate up any praise or gratitude thrown his way. But now, he turned his head and avoided eye contact with everyone. Daryl couldn’t help but notice the way the tattooed man’s nose scrunched up slightly at the praise being directed towards Shane. He wasn’t the only one who noticed Shane’s odd behavior. 

“We owe a lot to Pheonyx too. He donated blood. Gave Carl time until Shane could get back with the supplies.”, Rick said and looked at the man Daryl was captivated by earlier. He saw the man stiffen and drop his gaze to avoid the curious looks from the rest of the group. It was something Daryl often did. 

Pheonyx, Daryl thought and ran his gaze over the man again. While Daryl never finished high school, he had been an attentive student when he was able to attend. He vaguely remembered the lessons on Greek mythology from his freshman English class. In the stories, the phoenix was a singular bird, only one existing at a time. Every 500 years, the bird would make itself a nest and die in a burst of flames. From the ashes, a new bird would emerge. While his teacher insisted that the phoenix was a symbol of immortality and resurrection, to Daryl, the bird was a symbol of survival, hope, and rising above death. With eyes traveling over Pheonyx, he concluded that the name suited him. The weapons, his protective stance, the look of emotional scarring in his eyes. Pheonyx was a survivor. Like Daryl, he was made for the world as it was now. 

The group exchanged hugs of relief with Rick and Lori. While Daryl was happy that Carl was okay, he simply gave a nod to Rick to show his support. Hugs weren’t his thing. Touching in general wasn’t his thing to be honest. Growing up, the only touches he ever received were followed by pain. Now it was something he expected. A slight brush as someone walked by and suddenly he was on the floor of their dirty trailer. His shirt torn, blood running down his back, while his father stood over him holding his belt. That same belt that he saw every night in his dreams. 

Daryl was pulled from his nightmares by the feeling of a warm, vibrating body pressing into his leg. Looking down, he saw the happy face of the hound mix that was at Pheonyx’s side a few moments ago. He had always loved animals, dogs especially. With an abusive father and a –mostly catatonic– alcoholic mother, pets were never in the cards for him though. But he did remember playing with the stray dogs in the neighborhood, sneaking them bits of food, and offering them offal from his hunts when he got older. Hounds were a common find where he grew up. Most men had them for hunting. Daryl guessed this pup was a Bluetick mixed with a Bully breed. His coloring was typical of that type of hound, from his speckled white fur to the lining of brown around the large black spots that encompassed his ears and eyes. Floppy ears aside, the rest of the dog’s body was all Bully. He was stocky with thick muscle and a brick-shaped head. The dog had to weigh at least 70 lbs, mostly muscle. Daryl felt his heart hurt as he noticed the old scars littering the hound’s body. Patches of fur were missing around old cuts all over his frame and the tips of his ears were ragged from torn skin. Too many injuries to just be from fights with other dogs. Someone had hurt this dog a long time ago. To some, he might seem scary. The scars, his size, and his breed. But Daryl could see a heart of gold in his brown eyes. Despite the obvious pain in his past, the dog had greeted everyone with love and affection. He was a survivor. Just like his owner, if Daryl’s instincts were correct. 

A small smile wisped over his lips and he dropped a hand down for the dog to sniff. His already-wagging tail began to swish faster and he pressed himself closer to Daryl’s leg, making the man vibrate from all the wiggling. A soft blocky head pressed into his calloused fingers and he scratched the dog behind his ears. Feeling eyes on him, Daryl lifted his head and caught Pheonyx’s green eyes looking between him and the dog. A plump bottom lip was caught between white teeth and Daryl felt heat rise in his body. Obviously from the ascending temperatures outside. Not from any sort of attraction to the other man. Pheonyx averted his eyes when Daryl’s eyes met his, a blush spreading over his cheeks. The younger man was obviously feeling the effects of the Georgia heat too. Because there was no way a man like him could find Daryl attractive. Daryl was…well Daryl. A no-good, old redneck with the emotional range of a can opener. No one would ever want him. His old man made sure to tell him that all the time growing up. 

Hershel, the doctor who owned the farm, announced that they were having a service for a man named Otis, who had died helping Shane get the medical supplies to save Carl’s life. Daryl watched as Pheonyx called the dog over to him, using a distinct three note whistle. A few steps behind the others, the pair followed the other members of the farm towards a thick patch of trees a distance from the house. 

To be honest, Daryl would have preferred to not attend the small service. For one, he needed to be out searching for Sophia. The girl was going on day three of being missing and he was worried about how well she was fairing in the wilderness. He still wholeheartedly believed she was alive, but without water and no food, she would be getting weak. If she did find a water source, it might not be clean. She might eat berries that were poisonous. The possibilities were endless. Secondly, Daryl was uncomfortable around strong emotions like grief. He didn’t know how to respond. Especially when people cried. 

But this man had sacrificed his life to save Carl’s. The least he deserved was the presence of Carl’s group at his service. Daryl may have felt like he didn’t exactly qualify as part of the group, but he still found himself staring as the strangers placed stones on top of a pile of rocks that was erected as a memorial to Otis. Hershel read from the Bible as everyone took turns placing their stones on the memorial. Daryl stood at the back, facing towards the members of the farmhouse. He would never admit it, but his eyes kept drifting to the face of one certain person. Pheonyx was also distanced from his family. He had his arms crossed over his chest, making his biceps become more defined and the snakes on his upper arm danced at each movement. The other man’s eyes, that looked at everything but the service in front of him, radiated grief, but only internally. Outwardly, his body radiated strength and composure. It was a coping mechanism that Daryl was all too familiar with. 

Hershel asked Shane to share Otis’s last moments, and Daryl saw the cop tense up and mutter something about not being good at speaking. He avoided eye contact with all the Greene’s. The older woman, who Daryl assumed was Otis’s wife, insisted on Shane speaking. She wanted confirmation that her husband’s death had meaning. It took a moment but Shane began to speak, sharing his story of what happened at the FEMA center. As he spoke, Daryl knew why Pheonyx had reacted oddly earlier when Rick praised Shane for saving Carl. He wasn’t the best at reading people, he often tended to lean towards the idea that all people were bad, but he did know when people were lying. It was an unfortunate side effect of having a mother, father, and brother that were addicts in some form or another. The story was embellished with the heroics of the dead man but Daryl knew something else had occurred at the school. Something Shane was leaving out. Daryl watched Pheonyx’s face scrunch up into a sneer for a brief moment and his fists clenched, making the muscles of his arm tighten. As quick as it came, the look on his face was gone, and he continued to stare out into the field, avoiding the grief radiating from his family. After Shane finished his tall tale, the group bowed their heads for a moment of silence. Daryl followed suit but he kept his eyes up, watching as Pheonyx moved forward to pick up a stone from the wheelbarrow next to the memorial. He gripped it in his hand for a moment, staring at the hard object, before gently placing it onto the memorial. As if he transferred all of his grief into the dirty rock, Pheonyx’s muscles lightened at the loss of it in his hand. He stood there for a moment before backing away. Watching the man intently, Daryl would have given anything to know what he was thinking in those moments. 

Taglist: @yoongibaybee

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[dndads-confessions]

As a mixed latina, it drives me up the fucking WALL when people draw the twins as blonde, ESPECIALLY when theyre drawn with purely white features with the only indication that theyre mexican being their skin tone. First of all, thats not how genetics work, second of all, it looks ugly as sin, and thats ignoring the blatant whitewashing of these mixed kids. I know theres a lot of nuances at play with how mixed race ppl look, but at least try to make them look hispanic sometimes. Im tired of seeing rusty blonde hair on tanned skin.

.

[elgaladwen]

Lindandir

Father-Name: Lónailo / Lhûnaelin

Mother-Name: Valinóma

Epessë: Linahtoro / Lindandir

(Most often goes by Lindandir currently, but sometimes still uses his father-name, especially with older acquaintances or in formal situations. He hasn't gone by his Mother-Name since the fall of Gondolin.)

Stats:

Born around First Age 400

Birthplace: Gondolin

Affiliation: House of the Fountain

Race: Noldor

Occupation: Former soldier and commander 

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual, Polyamorous

Height: 7' 3"

Looks:

Long, straight bright blonde hair, sometimes cropped to just below shoulder-length. Often pulled back or in a ponytail to keep it out of his eyes

Pale skin, though tanned from being outdoors

Bears various scars on his torso, arms and legs. He generally knows how he got each one, and used to see them as failures, but now he looks upon them more as a long history of himself

Clear, pale blue eyes

Tends to wear armor and practical clothing, though he will wear fancier attire to occasions that warrant it

Artwork: Here by @nozomi-mats

Smell:

Sunlit leaves, clean breeze, fir

May smell like armor, and weapon oil

Sound:

Deep, rich tone, especially when singing

Generally jovial in tone and voice, and can be loud when commanding upon the field of battle, when he is drinking or when he is in the throes of passion

Speaks Quenya, Sindarin, and Westron fluently, and knows a smattering of words and phrases in other languages 

Playlist here

General:

Generally patient and slow to anger

Prone to bouts of intense sadness and reflection, despite his usually jovial demeanor

Often purposely hides his sadness behind the happy mask

History:

Born in Gondolin to parents who had come from Valinor

Part of the House of the Fountain

Was still fairly young when Gondolin fell, somewhere less than 150 years of age

Fought during the Fall, and still carries the same sword he used back then

Escaped with some others from his house through the Secret Way when the battle was lost

Before the Fall of Gondolin, he had been betrothed in an arranged marriage, but he does not know what happened to his would-be-wife, as he was not near her at the time of the battle. He presumes she perished as many in the city did. He did not love her, and in fact hardly knew her, so though he feels guilt and sadness for her loss, it is no more than he feels for most of those in the city of his youth

Unbeknownst to him, his former betrothed's uncle is alive and still in Middle-earth, as he did not dwell in Gondolin

Lindandir has spent most of his life since the fall helping in the various causes and wars of the elves still in Middle-earth, usually as a fighter, and for much of that time, he did not truly allow himself to live and enjoy life, perhaps feeling guilt and shame for having survived when so many others did not

At some point, however, he realized there was truly much life had to offer, and he decided to travel and experience all that which he could in Middle-earth

Once he'd felt more free to explore life, he'd taken many lovers, both male and female, but never had anything serious, preferring not to form strong attachments, for inevitably they all fade

Lindandir is not opposed to having a serious relationship, but as he has yet to settle down, he believes he is too old for such, and that he would be a poor partner for the long term, as he wishes to leave Middle-earth soon

He has started to feel some regret that he’s spent so much time during the past age trying to find himself, and not being the good friend or partner that he could be. He misses his friends who are gone dearly, and wishes to be better for those who are still left

He spent the first part of the Third Age in the Woodland Realm, and the latter half in Rivendell, though he traveled, too. Despite being in those places for a long while, he has never considered any place home since Gondolin

Relationships: (Names with a ~ indicate a character played by someone other than myself)

~Gilithion: One of Lindandir's former lovers, who is now his boyfriend. In the past, Lindandir never realized Gilithion held deeper feelings for him, but once he had been about to leave Middle-earth, and found himself thinking about the other ellon, he sought him out again, and they rekindled their relationship, exclusively this time, though they've kept it mostly hidden so that Gilithion's family doesn't find out that he's gay. Gilithion was deeply hurt by Lindandir, so it's been hard for him to trust again, and their relationship is rocky and distant at times, causing Lindandir much sadness, for he thrives on touch and affection. (@sewer-princess)

Elgaladwen: Close friend, and former lover. He almost offered to marry her so that her parents would stop trying to set her up in arranged marriages.

Meneladir: Gilithion's younger brother, and a friend, though Lindandir tries to keep his distance now, since Meneladir is not aware his brother is gay, and Lindandir worries over trying to hide the relationship.

~Maeglir: An acquaintance, but they share a familial connection that neither is yet aware of. (@loremastering)

[ariendiel]

LITG S2 Colour Seasons

Summers (cool)

Lottie: Light Summer (we can see this executed perfectly in her hair dye options, and her lipstick. However black is too strong for her, it makes her a bit yellow-ish, but that just makes her "pop" more, which adds to the Gothic style)

Gary: True Summer (his hair is so yellow aka springy, his skin is so pink and purple, an his eyes are a vibrant bright blue... unrealistic design but I did my best to translate him to real life)

Bobby: Muted Summer (cool-neutral. The neutral tones come in with his season being a neighbor to soft autumn, he as some warmth but leans cool overall, and has an olive tone, low contrast)

Henrik: Light Summer

Arjun: Muted summer (his hair also has ashy tones)

Winters (cool)

Marisol: Deep Winter

Hope: Bright Winter (each color of her makeup actually compliments her, but it's just too many all at once)

Lucas: Clear winter (icey pastels King)

Carl: Clear Winter

Kassam: Bright Winter

Winters are easiest to spot for me,very distinct from the other seasons in thier electric and dramatic colours.

Autumn's (warm)

Priya: Deep Autumn (warm-neutral. Anything deep and rich. She can wear gold best, followed by rose gold- a deep autumn specialty, and even silver is it's not a very cold type)

Blake: Soft autumn (warm, low contrast, and can wear gold mainly, copper, metals and silver If they're brushed or patina finished. Her hair is a bit intense, so maybe she has a bit more warmth that leads her into true autumn...)

Noah: Deep Autumn- true neutral (I've struggled with him, true neutrals are rare irl, but based on the fact that he's rich, and can wear neutrals and navy like no on else I've settled on this or now.. he just has so much red undertones but also has medium contrast.. im not 100% satisfied, so any input would be appreciated)

Rocco: True Autumn

Elijah: Deep autumn (I don't have a quality screenshotnof him so this isn't confident, but he's warm-neutral, low contrast, and muted)

Springs (warm)

Hannah: Warm Spring

Chelsea: Light spring (her natural tan is very springy)

Jo: Soft Spring (neighboring the summer season, she has some coolness)

Shannon: Warm Spring

Rahim: Clear Spring (warm and bright, and he so happens to be blessed to wear violet... love that for him)

Elisa: Light Spring

Felix: Light Spring (he's wearing mostly summery colours, maybe to accommodate his dyed hair?)

Jakub: True Spring

Graham: True Spring (hes bright and his hair is warm.. I considered True Autumn.. do we really care about him? lol)

OK, my theory is that there are so many springs in litg because these colours are juicy, fresh, trendy, bright and eye catching. Which is perfect in a summery, hot setting like the villa.

In the colour season theory, things like overtone (freckles, tanning VS burning, and blushing, eye colour) aren't indicators of a specific season, however they can give clues to a person's place on the dial within thier base season: Soft, bright, true, Muted, deep, clear.

This art style doesn't add eye texture or patterns-probably due to size, space and distance-but those are the best tell-tale of someone's season, so obviously I couldn't work with that.

Anyways, it was fun to do this, I find it interesting how some characters don't always wear their best colours, just like real people :) overall, thier chosen clothes give insight into thier personalities! I'd love any feedback or corrections from anyone who's also into this x

This is so, so good! I'm in awe, anon 🤍

Absolutely loved reading the analysis for the different characters, and I'm definitely trusting your judgement on this one. For people not familiar with all this, here's a reference photo for you. It doesn't match the categories you mentioned perfectly, but I think it's close enough:

Noah is definitely tricky, as he does wear deep blues and neutrals and warm colours well (at least in my mind). We love complex characters though, even if it's "just" about colours 😌 My ideal colours for him are definitely these, but I'm not sure which category they fit in: