#HAPPY FOUR AM
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Alpha!Nanami/Omega!reader
Word count: ~2,800
warnings: a/b/o typical sexism, abuse of authority (from side character), mention of leg injury
……………………………………………………….
He brings the storm with him.
You learn him in whispers, along with a bevy of myth and rumor. He drifted here from the East. His clothing has been mended at least a dozen times, but his shoes are sturdy, expertly crafted. He makes no noise when he walks — hardly any noise at all. Rōnin, not samurai. And you can’t trust a man with no honor.
He killed his old master, I heard.
No, he was exiled.
Maybe he killed his master because he was exiled.
“He’ll be gone tomorrow once the rain lets up,” the innkeeper says, cutting off all further speculation. “Now, mind your work, not the guests.”
Beside you, someone grouses, “He chose a funny season to wander, if he’s afraid of the weather.”
…
The rain does not let up.
It puts everyone in a sour mood. The streets turn viscous and tacky, the air brutally cool. You draw the short straw, sent to fetch the days meat in the early morning, a long trek to the fishmonger that leaves you drenched down to your underwear.
It takes twice as long as usual — you lose your sandal a few times in the muck — and when you arrive the stand is vacant. The old man had come down with pneumonia.
Frustrated, you take the long way home. They can wait for the bad news, and you’re so soaked a few extra minutes won’t make any difference. You catch the eye of a few of the daimyō’s men, leering at you from beneath awnings, snickering as you walk by.
“Wanna hear a joke about wet omegas?” one of them calls to you.
You grit your teeth and keep walking.
You deliver the news about the fish to the innkeeper at the door to her room, so you can dart out again before she has a chance to say anything. God forbid she sends you out on another errand.
Soaking, furious, you change into your uniform, and begin your shift at the tavern.
The work is tedious, but decently lucrative. You like to talk to travelers, learn what’s happening beyond the boundaries of your town. It’s hard to put into words what you get out of this, hoarding information like you’re starved for it. Maybe the sheer notion that there is someplace else. That this town and its people are not the only things in the world.
The comfort of knowing away is still possible.
You expect to ask the rōnin the same, starry eyed questions, regardless of how the other server is avoiding him. It might even be enough to salvage this shitty morning.
But you don’t get a chance to ask him where he’s from, what he’s seen. You open your mouth to say something, and choke on air thick with the scent of wisteria.
He meets your gaze.
He won’t look away.
Your wet hair drips on his table.
You can’t feel your fingertips.
Shoving yourself away from the table so hard it rattles against the floor, you excuse yourself in a mumbled tumult. You recruit the other server to take over your tables for the rest of the morning. You must look as awful as you feel, because she doesn’t even question it as you retreat back to your room, throw yourself under the quilt. Close your eyes and pray for your heart to settle.
The one thing the gossip didn’t prepare you for — an alpha.
…
Another day of storms. Another morning you draw the short straw.
Another day you limp home through the mud, empty handed.
The soldiers don’t leer today. Instead, the daimyō is waiting for you. It feels like he’s always waiting for you, that he could swoop in any moment, as quick and ruthless as a hawk.
He’s said he could follow your scent straight to you, no matter where you’re hiding. Sometimes you believe it.
He’s leaning against a wall under an awning, but you know the casual stance is deceptive. He can be fast when he wants to be.
He calls your name, an inferred order to come.
You pretend you didn’t hear, keep walking.
He’s standing straight now arms at his side. Ready. Your insides feel leaden. It takes all your willpower to keep moving forward. To disregard an alpha is one, painful thing. To disregard the daimyō is simple insanity.
Water blurs your vision. You can’t tell from the corner of your eye what expression he’s making. Sometimes he finds your insolence humorous.
Sometimes not.
Just a dozen feet further and you’ll be at the bend in the road.
“You should greet me,” he says. Quiet, but you’re so hyper-vigilant, there’s no way you could miss it.
“Good morning, My Lord,” you whisper to your feet.
He doesn’t step out into the rain, but his voice follows you around the corner. Teasing, condescending. “That’s a good omega.”
He could kill you for your bad manners. A servant, ignoring their lord. No one would question it, no one would dispute it.
But then — he would be killing the only omega in the whole town.
As much as he resents your disobedience, he would resent the loss of you even more. An alpha must have an omega, he told you. That is his right.
Chin tucked and scurrying, you don’t realize you’re on a collision course until you’ve already run into the man. The impact sends you tumbling to the ground.
Through the buffer of the downpour, it takes you a minute to recognize him. His scent.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says. “I apologize.”
He bends to offer you a hand up. You just stare at his outstretched palm. Silent. Reeling.
You wait for him to give an order. Demand you take his hand, or that you come to stand on your feeble legs all on your own. It’s simply an alphas nature to wield their power like a cudgel, to bend everything and everyone to their will.
And now you have two of them to deal with.
Another moment of stillness. Your breath steams. Your pulse drowns out all other sounds.
He kneels.
Like this, on the same level, you can see the color of his eyes. So perfectly brown they’re almost black.
“Are you alright?” he says.
His voice is staid and calm. Not demanding. Not cruel. It — confuses you. You don’t understand what he wants from you.
You rise to your knees, shoving him with all your strength. He doesn’t budge. He remains solid and upright beneath your hands. You can feel the muscle, the innate strength. He’s warm, beneath the wet clothes. So incredibly warm.
You wonder if he could soothe your chill. You wonder if the touch of his bare skin would burn.
With a gasp, you tear away, appalled and mystified by your own reaction.
He stays kneeling as you rise and step away. He stays as you rush home, the scent of wisteria heavy in your lungs.
…
The innkeeper is displeased with your performance, of late. She gives you a stern warning that you shouldn’t let your “licentious nature” interfere with work.
“I don’t know why I agreed to take an omega on,” she sighs. “Not like you’ll be around for much longer, anyway.”
You wince. “Am I fired?”
The old woman laughs. “No, no. Not yet, anyway.” She waves at you, a full body gesture. A reference to the omega in you. “You’ll be wed to His Lordship soon, anyway. You won’t have to worry about the toil of work anymore.”
You excuse yourself shortly after.
…
The days are a monotony. Even the fear is so commonplace you lose track of it. The daimyō grows impatient with you. He calls to you from the shelter of the awning, each time a little bolder, a little less demure about his intentions.
“You know, I have a bad habit of breaking my things when I get bored of them,” he tells you. “I wonder what other tricks you have to keep me entertained.”
You hang your clothes to dry every evening, and the drip becomes a steady cadence, like the ticking of a clock.
This is your life.
The rain.
The rain.
The rain.
…
The decree is issued that afternoon. Marriage.
You’re to report to the royal estate before sundown, along with everything you own. You will not be coming back.
You pack your bag; you take the road out of town. With the city at your back, you’ll have to pass through the outskirt woods. Then across the river, a dangerous gambit when the water is this high, but that just means you won’t be followed.
You can’t imagine the consequences if they catch you.
The path grows looser the further you go, the mud deep, silt as slick as ice. Arduous and exhausting. And dangerous, too.
You don’t realize your footing is off until it’s too late. You slip, land badly. You cry out before you can stop yourself.
You struggle to your knees, get one of your legs beneath you. A shock of pain has you tumbling down again.
You can’t stand. You can’t run.
Just moments after you fall, a shadow overtakes you. And a man, looming, familiar, crouches before you.
“I heard your voice,” he says. “Can you walk?”
You shake your head, timid, overwhelmed.
“Pardon me,” he says, before hefting you up into his arms.
The ease he does it with is startling. An alpha’s superior strength.
He brings you to a small hunting cabin. Clearly abandoned, but decent enough. It’s dry, and a small fire is going in the hearth.
There’s no furniture except for a rudimentary pallet, which he sets you down on.
“May I?” he asks, hands hovering above your stockinged leg.
He takes your silence as answer enough, unrolling the material gradually, trying not to disturb your injury. He inspects it briefly, pressing carefully. You wince, he stops.
He reaches for his bag, retrieving a small tin. “Your ankle is sprained,” he tells you. “You should return to town in the morning.”
“I need to leave,” you return absently. “I have to get past the bridge.”
He frowns.
“The bridge has collapsed. The river is impassable.” He had tried to leave that morning, only to face the same dilemma. He considers you leg. “Besides, you won’t make it very far.”
The reality of your situation dawns on you, a slow tide of dread.
You missed your chance. You’ve lost your only opportunity at freedom.
You yank out of his grasp, dragging yourself across the floor, to the corner on the far side of the cabin.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you—“
“No. No.” You gnash your teeth at him, feeling wild with fear, unable to see past the dark curtain of it. “I have to go. I can’t be trapped in here with you.”
He raises a hand, a placating gesture, but all you see is motion, canting toward you. An alpha. A threat.
You grab whatever is closest. You throw it at him.
The stick doesn’t even hit him, but that doesn’t stop you. You throw everything within reach.
He just waits for you to give up, but soon enough he realizes how stubborn you can be.
“Enough,” he says. His voice fills the shack, not loud, but indomitable. The undeniable command of an alpha. “I’m not going to hurt you. I would appreciate if you would offer me the same courtesy.”
You drop the stone you were going to hurl at him, suddenly incapable of aggression. You feel — groggy, but less terrified now. Very nearly calm.
His pheromones, you realize.
The notion that he’s using them on you should incense you, but you can’t muster it. You close your eyes, exhausted.
Eventually, after long minutes of tepid silence, he murmurs, “I was here first, you are aware of that, right?” His tone is almost — sullen.
And for some reason, that very human show of petulance is enough to thaw you.
You laugh.
You can’t stop. You laugh so hard it’s hardly laughter anymore. It’s so intense it makes your ribs hurt, brings tears to your eyes.
It feels like the first time you’ve been able to think clearly in weeks.
When you finally calm to a few soft hiccups, you lay down and throw your arms out. Passive.
“Alright, swordsman,” you say, “Fix me.”
He’s slow to approach you, cautious of another rock coming at him. But you remain still.
His touch is gentle, so soft it’s like he’s barely handling you at all. He retrieves the tin of salve you kicked out of his hand, and begins to apply it. It’s cool, slightly astringent. Beneath that, the scent of wisteria.
His fingers are just as warm as the rest of him.
It’s over before you can get used to the sensation of him touching you. He pulls away, returns the tin to his bag. “That will help with the swelling. You should still avoid putting weight on it until it heals.”
“Thank you,” you force yourself to say.
You think you hear him chuckle.
…
Night blooms, full and dark.
Despite your anxiousness, the waiting has grown tedious. Unbearably so.
“Is there anything in that bag to alleviate boredom?”
He glances at you for a moment. Hesitating.
Finally he reaches inside, pulls out a small binding. He passes it to you.
A book of poems. You recognize the shape of the sentences, some of the words. You wonder what use a swordsman has for literature, but the swordsman is full of surprises evidently.
Th pages are worn, the edges soft from thumbing.
“I can’t read,” you say. You look at him. Expectantly.
You hold the book out. He takes it, slowly, gingerly.
He reads.
He’s not much of a performer, although you didn’t expect him to be. It’s clear he’s not used to reading aloud, but he knows these passages well. He’s tone is even, with little inflection. The words come out perfectly paced.
They’re love poems. Not flowery or decadent, but earnest, gentle.
It seems at odds with what you know of him, what you’ve assumed from his status, both as a rōnin and an alpha. You’re not sure what to make of him anymore, how to reconcile the image you built of him in your head and everything you’ve witnessed here.
His swords are leaned against the wall beside him, sure proof of a history of violence.
The question comes, unbidden. “Have you ever killed someone?”
He pauses, glances at you. He searches your face for something, the fear that should accompany those words. But your expression is blank.
Silence, fraught with the tense memory of how you ended up here. What were you running from? Why? He must understand, to some extent. No one reaches desperation without pretext.
“Yes,” he says, simply.
“If I asked you to kill someone,” you murmur. “If I paid you…”
The implication feels enormous within the tight confines of the cabin.
“I don’t believe that’s what you want.”
“What do I want?”
“To not be put in a position where you have to make that kind of decision.”
That makes something in your chest feel tight, on the verge of snapping. Another thing you can’t wrap your head around. Another emotion you can’t name. Uncomfortable, but not frightening. Not like before.
You feel displaced, unmoored.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
“I’m not being nice,” he says. “You need help. I’m in a position to provide it.”
And that seems wrong to you. Just because someone has the means doesn’t mean they’ll offer them, certainly not freely. Especially not when someone is a such a burden.
“I’ve never met an alpha who’s kind to an omega just for the sake of it,” you say despite his denial.
He mulls that over for a moment, head cocked as he decides how to respond.
“I didn’t know you were an omega until tonight,” he says, quietly. “I had my suspicions, but…”
“Were my bountiful charms not enough to tip you off?” You snort at his blank expression, too polite to disrespect you with an answer. “Why now?”
“Your scent. It’s…subtle. Easy to miss, especially under these circumstances.”
“What do I smell like?”
He smiles, for the first time since you met him. It softens his severe features, makes him look younger. Less world-weary. “You smell like rain.”
He continues reading as the sky continues to churn, until you can hardly keep your eyes open, just barely holding on to the soft thread of words.
“Sleep,” he says gently. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
Despite yourself, you believe him.
#nanami kento x reader#nanami x reader#HAPPY FOUR AM#here’s this <3#I knowwwww there’s like a thousand typos in here I just know it#I wanted to finish this tonight I felt compelled to#also I’m so sorry if u actually know stuff about history I am just making stuff up as I go <3#JSJSJDJDJDJD#anyway……#one of the stranger aus I’ve written#cw: a/b/o#tw: a/b/o
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I am incredibly serious right now when I beg you all, please, and if you have Twitter or Tiktok or whatever to please spread the word: click on an author's profile on Ao3.
You want to know if an author has written more? Want to know if they're still writing? Want to see more from them? Want to know if they've written a trope or kink or sex scenario you enjoy?
Click on their name. And look at their profile.
I cannot tell you how many times in the last six months someone has read a new or newer fic of mine and said they (a new reader who has read nothing else I've done) "can't wait to see what you do next!" I've written 50+ fics and over a million words already.
"I don't know if you're still writing..." click on my profile. I am. I literally wrote a 128k+ fic for that ship last month.
"Would you ever do X?" "Please do Y!" I already did. Click on my name and look at my works.
Archive of our Own is a library. It's an archive. Not social media. It is your responsibility to fight back against the laziness that corporate algorithms have trained into you.
Click my author name. Just click it. Just click it.
Before you demand more, or ask if a writer will do XYZ, or wonder if the author still writing, or anything - click on their profile. Click on the author's profile.
I'm not trying to be mean or condescending or anything like that. I'm just exhausted. It's disheartening and frustrating to repeat myself ad nauseam, because someone couldn't take thirty seconds to do the tiniest bit of work to see if I've written lately, if I've written more for their ship, or scan my works to see if I've written what they're asking for. Please. Please. I'm begging.
Click the author's name, and explore before you ask.
#lincoln rants#I'm sorry but I'm at the end of my rope#I got a LOT of these comments on my Buddie Platonic Sugar Baby AU#acting like I was some new writer to the fandom#babes I've been here since the dawn of 2020 where the fuck have YOU been?#I am happy to answer questions! I love responding to reader comments!#but it is beyond frustrating to answer a question that if they'd literally just clicked on my author name#they would have gotten the answer to themselves#yes I have written more yes I am still writing yes I've been here longer than you have#and I don't mean that in a pulling rank/seniority way I just mean that in a could you please just CLICK ON MY NAME???#INSTEAD OF MAKING ASSUMPTIONS??? way#I'VE DONE MY TIME! FOUR AND A HALF YEARS! IN THE CIRCUS!#I'm sorry but sometimes I have to yell publicly a little#and I really do suspect this is people who are not on tumblr#so I am genuinely begging you#if you are on other social media platforms#PLEASE feel free to repeat what I have said#PLEASE I AM SO TIRED!!!
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Blame X-Men: Marvel Snapshots for this.
#Am I crazy for wanting this guy to have one universe where he’s happy.#The F4 just seem so happy in comparison to the polygamy drama team.#art#digital artist#my art#marvel#x men#cyclops#scott summers#fantastic four#mr fantastic#reed richards#human torch#johnny storm#invisible woman#susan storm#thing#ben grimm#crossover
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☺️❤️
#i like to think they truly are related#they would be so so happy#they have the same shield!!#i am subscribing to my own headcanon#i think it might be a general game headcannon#but i havent seen anything in LU about it#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu fanart#lu wind#lu four#found family#flufftober#lu flufftober
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the core four, aka family for life <3
#pittsburgh penguins#evgeni malkin#sidney crosby#kris letang#marc andre fleury#mine:gif#mine:pens#gif:pens#gif:s#gif:g#gif:t#sidney#geno#tanger#flower#wild#happy flower day#the core four#smiley sid#smiley geno#they're all so fond of each other#and I am so fond of them#;___;
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Sauron/Annatar x Galadriel
Okay I lied I'm not waiting until Sunday
#I finished early and am wayyy too happy about how it turned out so yeah#I put four hours and a half of my life into this and I have no regrets#I'm totally normal about them#it should be me#enjoy#artists on tumblr#art#digital art#lotr trop#lotr#lotr fanart#lord of the rings#the lord of the rings#middle earth#the one ring#the rings of power#rings of power#annatar#galadriel x sauron#sauron#sauron art#sauron x galadriel#trop#galadriel#trop season 2#galadriel fanart#haladriel#haladriel fanart#saurondriel#halbrand x galadriel
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welcome to my impulsively made badly drawn blog. oops
#isat loop#in stars and time#badlydrawnloop#that will be. the art#<- that is supposed to say the art TAG but ive misspelled the tag four times already so i give up#happy 1:30 am i am a little sleepy#and i will maybe make a pinned here later….#not that i am planning to take this blog very seriously.#send an ask tell me something stupid whateve r#ok goodnight 👋👋👋
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You should stay away from me. I'm no longer with the gang. I didn't agree. Our boss already agreed four years ago. Pull over and let me out of the car. I'm your boss!
KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 01 / Ep. 09
#kiseki: dear to me#kisekiedit#kdtm#kiseki dear to me#ai di x chen yi#chen yi x ai di#nat chen#chen bowen#louis chiang#chiang tien#jiang dian#userspring#uservid#userrain#userspicy#userjjessi#pdribs#*cajedit#*gif#again. INSANE that they opened the show with this and then were like. 'these are side characters' like. NO! (& wild how the finale was 90%#them being happy while zherui was getting stabbed. like. clearly the writers knew who the true main characters were lmaooo)#ok anyway i honestly really love the breath chen yi lets out once he gets the door shut. like. its real. its happening.#the RELIEF as well as the determination to have ai di for real in front of him again#and also insane that the first time they touch after four years is chen yi putting ai di's whole body over his shoulder#like. last time they touched was ai di touching chen yi's hair while he slept#does anyone else think about that. does anyone think about the fact that the last time they touched was when they slept together#does anyone else think abt what ai di is experiencing trying to keep chen yi from touching him#but also loving him for coming to pick him up from prison. do you think about the combination of ai di's desperation and dread#compared to chen yi's desperation and relief. like does anyone else think about the combination of gentle and rough or just me#i made half of this while on an airplane yesterday thats how insane for them i am <3
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ch 175.
WHAT KIND OF FOOTBALL PLAYER...
DOES THE IDEAL CHIGIRI HYOMA WANT TO BE?
12.23 happy birthday chigiri.
#chigiri hyoma#chigiri#blue lock#bluelocksource#m#chigiri hyouma#m:colourings#m:bluelock#hyoma chigiri#fysportsanime#dailyanime#sportsanimedaily#animangaboys#shounenedit#mangaedit#HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHIGIRI LOVELIEST PERSON EVER#this is year four i am celebrating his birthday and i honestly could not be happier#ok now that i look at this it is bothering me that the text is all on the left#but i fear it is what it is at this point#anyways i absolutely adore him i hope all of you adore him too please wish him happy birthday he is the most important person today#i had finished the first two like more than a year ago i fear but it is finally complete#HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHIGIRI !!!!!
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My jewish community, friends, rabbi, and educators: We are very invested in helping you be jewish. Do you want to help read the haftarah? Here's a chanukiah! You can have it!! Borrow these books! Here's some books! You need more books... Come to pesach! Come to the chanukah party! When are your classes done? We need a minyan for once!
Me and my 50000 IQ: What if I am Secretly Appropriating judaism? What if I am doing a Cultural Appropriation........
#jumblr#jew by choice#jewish conversion#personal thoughts tag#there comes a point where your concerns about if you are an Appropriative Cultural Appropriator hinders your jewish journey#i think a comforting thing is knowing that my incessant fear about this is confirmation that i love judaism#i love it with my heart and soul and (i feel) i'd be a less realized person without it#and i think people who genuinely engage in cultural appropriation just Do Not Care about the cultures they appropriate from#they don't love the culture enough to respect it and that is a big reason that it even IS appropriation#especially when jewish people are INVITING you to do things... it's not appropriation#i dunno last night i was feeling very anxious about lighting the chanukiah candles because i'm alone#but i've also lit shabbos candles. and it's just like... why would i choose not to engage in this when one day i will have to?#this time next year i will have to light candles. as a jew. and if i have no clue how to do it myself then i'll just avoid it#plus... i love my chanukiah and i want to use it. it is currently decorating my room because i love it#i hope they'll let me take pictures of all the chanukiah that'll be at the party#i'm sure they will because they're very open and they are very accommodating. in fact i'm bringing my clarinet too#i haven't touched that thing in well over four years 😭#but jewish music without a clarinet is like a body with no soul. it's impossible. it is not what g-d wants i think.#i just hope my ability to play by ear hasn't been affected by my lack of playing. i don't have perfect pitch tbc#but i fully believe you can know your instrument so well that you develop an ear for perfect pitch#in fact... i refused to memorize my marching band music because i DID develop that 'perfect pitch' ear. that's my dirty secret#i didn't practice in part because i can't have a space where noone could hear me practice and it's embarrassing and private to me#literally EVERY jew in my life has been almost TOO ecstatic about my jewish journey. i'm very thankful for it#i guess i just didn't think i deserved to have people as happy about me being in judaism as i am#so to be clear this is my brain being rude and dumb. this anxiety has NEVER been reinforced by anyone but myself#so i take full responsibility for it. but i think that anxiety is something many/most converts/jews-in-progress feel
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#I am literally going insane!#gif three is giving. practicing a presentation or pitch. or statement. specter ross era. they're a team!!!!#and mike's like. analysing but also. the touch so familiar gentle 🥹🥺#and GIF FOUR. I HAVE STARED AT THIS FOR HOURS NOW?#happiest they've ever been because they're! in! a relationship! now! open close comfy loose happy happy happy themmmmm them them#they're just??? they're literally each others. couldn't be more compatible. more simpatico. with any other.#they invented being in love. no one will ever be it like they are#anyway thank you t-mobile for my monthly put-them-in-situations + remove-the-context + brainstorm-it-from-there -athon 🙏#suits#suits tv#suits usa#marvey#harvey specter#mike ross#gabriel macht#patrick j adams#harvey x mike#mike x harvey#tmobile#t mobile#t-mobile#late to the party on this one lol but I am turning up the music! marvey party never stops
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Happy anniversary to Bojere specifically :'D
#hi fellow bojere enjoyers#it is time#THEM#gah they are everything#I drew this wayyyyy too late and tbh I had to slap myself yesterday to stay awake and on task (had no energy left)#but I got through it and I am very happy with ho it turned out#I had had other pictures in mind to maybe draw but these four was the only ones I could make look decent#so I'll take it :'D#without further ado: happy anniversary :D#bojan cvjetićanin#joker out#käärijä#jere pöyhönen#jo nordic tour 2023#tavastia 2#mine#my own art
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happy 1st anniversary to in stars and time!
i dont remember what wood this was but this sucker took Months to complete (mainly due to procrastination.....) and i finished it last minute, it feels very refreshing to have this piece finally complete
#honkifart#in stars and time#isat#isat loop#i had a bad carpal tunnel flareup when doing the first stretch of this#after that flareup i didnt touch it for.... four? five? months#whatever ! its done#i am happy with it
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#i for one am more than happy to welcome optimus prime into the ranks of the great animated revolutionaries of our time#a bug’s life#a bugs life#chicken run#robots#robots blue sky#blue sky robots#robots 2005#robots (2005)#robots movie#transformers one#pixar#dreamworks#aardman#aardman studios#tf one#tf1#orion pax#transformers#animation#animated movies#poll time#tumblr polls#tumblr poll#random polls#flick#ginger#rodney copperbottom#optimus prime#the four great cartoon revolutionaries of our time
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you might've seen this in an ask already, but decided to post here too; a collection of Tenmas from Yara's fics, since I love the differences that thrown into different timelines and happenings give him!
#going to have a delightful slow breakfast while reading the new update to OoS#he might be my own fav of the bunch because he's bordering being recognizable in the right way.. kinda like in the fic itself#like if you see him separately: oh who's this fella? but in context like this pic: .....that's Tenma. right?#lowkey happy I've been drawing more fanfic fanart lately bc I hate how I struggle with leaving comments and I can show my love this way#got like... at least four scenes from different fics I'd like to draw but we'll see if/when I can get to those#I'd apologize for tag rambling but you know me at this point. I am unable to not tag rant#own art#inazuma eleven go#matsukaze tenma#(this probably deserves a character tag haha)#(I should backtrack to tag cgaracters though for my own archiving purposes)
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girls of the month (november ver.)
#once again am amazed at how loona have four girls with birthdays in virtually the same week#happy gowon day btw!#scorpio line#loona#loossemble#loona fanart#art#my art#yeojin#hyeju#kim hyunjin#hyunjin#gowon
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