#beat & motion manga

[shysheeperz]

[siix-eyes]

Beat & Motion - chapter 31

[animedogoftheday]

Today’s anime dog of the day is:

This yipper from Beat & Motion (2023)

[animangabwedit]

Beat & Motion by Fujita Naoki

[anon-a-jay]

Me: Well damn tenmaku cinema was pretty good, shame it got cancelled before it could really go anywhere. At least I have beat and motion to fill that niche.

Shonen jump: final beat and motion chapter today

Me:

Me: MOTHER FU-

[saiyef]

[super-metroid]

Everyone else go home, they made the perfect anime girl

[pin-yao]

[greatwyrmgold]

Beat and Motion is an okay manga. But sometimes, just for a moment, I find it really profound.

I don't animate or write music; I mostly just write. But this still rings true to me. Ideas are easy, execution is hard.

[shysheeperz]

[siix-eyes]

Beat & Motion - chapter 45

[animedogoftheday]

Today’s anime dog of the day is:

This drawn dog from Beat & Motion (2023)

[animangabwedit]

Beat & Motion by Fujita Naoki

[roydeezed]

Beat & Motion-Chapter Round-Up(Chapter 3)

I absolutely adore Beat & Motion. It’s a really genuine manga about two young creatives who find things in each other that they really needed. This chapter follows the pair of Tatsu and Nico as they continue work on their music video together. From the last chapter we know they’ve already fallen for each other and we get treated to a fun outing with the two of them as they bond. I’ve loved what the manga has had to say about creative endeavors but I didn’t realize until this chapter that I’d also grown to love the characters as well. It’s apparent to see why Nico is so likable, she’s fun and aspirational, but Tatsu on the other hand is a weird case. On the surface he seems to be off-putting and depressing, but that’s just the base of his character. Tatsu is incredibly realistic and every chapter so far has grown by leaps and bounds. And he’s not just having these come-to-god moments on his own, his growth spurts are halting and awkward and a genuine reaction to learning more about himself as well as learning from others. What the author has done by putting these two in each other’s orbit is that they’ve brought down the relationship between the aspiring and the aspirer to a real and tangible level where it’s easy to observe. The relationship between the two also shows off how freeing and comforting the company of artistic peers is. Mostly it’s been one-sided as the question that gets subconsciously floated is “What can Tatsu offer Nico?”, as Nico has been Tatsu’s muse, his inspiration, and in almost all ways, his reason for getting to where he is. And here is where we find out the answer, he can help her to dream bigger. As not only is he a collaborator, he’s also a fellow dreamer. I really love how this manga took its time, over the course of three chapters, to establish the goals of our main characters. It’s confident and stellar storytelling.

[saiyef]

[229zmi]

MY HEART, IT BEATS FOR YOU

Nagi Seishirō/Reader | 1.0k words, fluff, jealous nagi

Nagi, generally, is an apathetic person.

Yet somehow, there’s a taut feeling that twists its way through the gaps of his ribcage, stretching around his heart as his eyes linger on the fabric that hangs around your shoulders. Seeing you on the couch, casually scrolling on your phone while wearing a jacket he can’t recognise as yours or, even better, his as much as he wants to — the sight elicits something that’s not quite a painful feeling, but it isn’t exactly pleasant either, he thinks.

The wheels are still turning in his head when you finally acknowledge his presence with a smile, oblivious to the way he’s not even looking at you when you tell him, “Hey, Sei.”

Instead, he trudges over to you with the same passion as that of a sloth, and his voice comes out small, almost as if that same feeling in his chest has crawled past his shoulder to constrict his throat.

“That jacket— it’s not yours, is it?” It’s plain and simple, the way he states the observation, yet laced with the most marginal hint of spite.

“No, it’s Reo’s,” you confirm without missing a beat, and he narrows his eyes, so subtly that you don’t even catch it. You continue on about how you bumped into Reo by pure coincidence on your way to run an errand and how the weather’s been so volatile lately, oscillating between warm and sunny one day and freezing cold during the next. But Nagi—

Well—

Here’s the thing: as impassive as he is most of the time, Nagi is a great listener when it comes to you.

You’ve always been a priority to him and even more so in that facet. To relish in the fleeting moments of winning a game on his phone, or to know what happens in the latest chapter of his favourite manga as soon as possible — the rush of satisfaction he gets out of those is nice, he supposes, but not worth missing a word of what you say, be it something miscellaneous about your day or the biggest news he’s ever heard in his life.

And certainly, nothing is worth missing the small habits that make themselves known in your conversation, that make up the you he first swore love to near the bench outside the convenience store, holding your favourite snack in one hand and offering his jacket to you with his other because the harshness of springtime winds had swept away any warmth your flimsy sweater could contain.

It’s your facial expressions, your gestures, the way you look toward him at the end of each rambling, as if to ask, Are you listening? So then, he’ll answer— a nod, as if to say, Yes. Of course. Please say more. Because for you, it’s all ears and eyes wide open on his end.

But Nagi, admittedly, isn’t perfect, and this is not a matter of opinion. Even you can see the way he can’t stop staring hard at your jacket as though he’s trying to telepathically morph it into something that looks like it came from his closet instead.

Midway through an elaborate plan to sell the jacket for an outrageously high price on some sketchy website (you’re only half-joking… maybe), you finally notice his distant expression. “…Sei?”

His lack of response is all the confirmation you need for your suspicions. A grin then crosses your face, while your eyes sport a gleam that Nagi recognises as smugness once he eventually tears his focus away from the offending item of clothing.

You say his name again, this time teasingly. Then, “Are you jeal—?”

Your question cuts off unceremoniously when his hands reach over to latch onto the zipper of the jacket, pulling it down before tugging on the fabric near your shoulders. Despite the boldness of his actions, you don’t make any move to stop him as he flings Reo’s jacket across the room, hearing it land on the floor with a satisfying sound.

Moments later, he shrugs his jacket off in one smooth motion and then drapes it over your body. With his large palms smoothing over the fabric against your upper arms, it’s such a sweet gesture that you can’t find it in yourself to complain, although the opportunity to poke fun at him is hard to let slip.

“Woah, there.” Cheekily, you brush that one abnormally long part of his bangs away from his face and poke the tip of his nose, to which he responds with his signature pout before burying his face into the crook of your neck. As your back hits the cushion of the arm rest behind you and your hands come up to comb through his hair, you feel a bout of warmth surge through your collarbone area, accompanied by the sound of his voice muffled by your skin.

“I’m not jealous.”

A smile dances around the corners of your mouth despite your efforts to conceal it. “Really?” you say. “I think you are.”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles. “You can’t prove it.”

“I mean. You’re kinda all over me right now.”

He huffs at the flurry of giggles that tumble from your mouth boundlessly, like clothes spilling out of an overpacked suitcase. Though, when your laughter finally simmers down and humour seems to have come to a standstill in your conversation, sentimentality weaves its way into your voice, in between mixed undertones of reassurance and leftover amusement.

(Because what you’re about to say is nothing but the truth itself: ardent and vulnerable, despite the sheer casualness in the way you present it.)

“You’re the only one my heart beats for, Seishirō.”

Lazily, he peers up at you. “Promise?”

“I promise. Besides,” you add, snuggling deeper into the collar of his jacket, “your jacket’s way warmer, anyway.”

That could be attributed to the fact that he has practically become your personal heater by sprawling his body over yours on the couch. Nevertheless, the envious fangs surrounding Nagi’s heart slacken, and with your fingers brushing through his hair once again, he can’t help himself from murmuring into your skin, sounding more relieved than he has ever sounded, “Good.”