#hope its okay to add on!!

[bubblingsteam]

[bomedew]

i love u,, sam winchester,,,

[glosshobi]

cyphernet's 9 DAYS OF YOONGI

↳ day 1: That That era: ┌ -ㅅ-┌

[skullsandcorals]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @apiratefellinlovewithastar 🤭💜💜💜 !!!!

I hope you like it ;)

(click for better quality if you're on the mobile app. do not repost.)

[dyktvideogamesfx]

hey just a tip, if you put the warnings in the question itself or above the audio, it might be a lot more helpful since most people (like myself) just listen to the audio first or read the question especially since in my case I've never seen a content warning on this blog so I didn't think that I need to keep reading to check for one. Totally understandable if you don't do this or don't want to I just thought it might be something to consider have a great day I love your blog! (Sorry if this sounds rude or my language is weird English isn't my first language)

I did actually try to do this but the poll kept shoving it down? It was already a submitted poll that was queued when i went back to edit but that is the plan going forward.

And not at all! Even if I don't go through with a suggestion I'll always try to explain why/hear any out. I appreciate it!

[pixelatedraindrops]

“I’ll keep you safe and warm on the lonesome and cold nights that you can’t find any comfort.”

Further Rambling below

Yeah it recently occurred to me that I have not ever drawn a sick Makoto getting comforted by Yuma before (shocking)

Tbh, I think part of me was afraid to, thinking Makoto being clingy or afraid was out of character. (and yet I wrote a 25k long fanfic about that exact premise, but to be fair I was super nervous about that too when I released it to the public 💦)

But I also see Makoto as a very lonely person. So when he feels genuine warmth and comfort for the first time in his life, he probably eats that up and is likely very touch starved. Add a fever and delirium into that mix and he is SUPER clingy and needy.

I also hc that he sees his mask as a comfort item. Similar to kids having security blankets or adults finding comfort in a familiar object. So when feeling anxious, he’s either already wearing it, or he clings to it like a child would a comfort plushie. (so I drew it here lol)

The short story is that Yuma came to visit and look after Makoto on a day that he was not doing well. (overworked and stressed with a 38 degree c fever) Makoto is his normal sarcastic and playful self the whole day despite this, and he and Yuma bicker and argue a lot while Yuma takes care of him. Until the time comes for the two to sleep, which they do in the same bed. While asleep in the middle of the night, Makoto has an awful nightmare (likely of his UG lab experiences as a test subject) causing his fever to spike. He shivers in the dark whimpering, eyes shut and clinging his mask thinking he’s still in the dream. As Yuma wakes up hearing the noise, he notices his clone beside him in such a pitiful state and he assumes he’s merely shaking from his illness getting worse. Yuma decides the ideal solution is to aid him by warming him up with his own body heat. So he gently pulls Makoto’s shivering body into his own. While Yuma tries to go back to sleep still holding onto Makoto, the homunculus unconsciously snuggles deeper into his original’s frame. Finding even just a little bit of comfort and security in Yuma’s warm embrace as he tries to fall to slumber once again. He was in a safe place…for now.

I essentially got inspired by my own fanfic for this, it’s not the same, but it is similar. Also this is my first (or second?) time seriously drawing Post Game Yuma. I tried to make him look calm despite the situation. (unlike my fic where I made him super emotional lol) I really love the idea of Yuma being Makoto’s comfort and security person on the days he’s unwell or going through too much.

Featuring the stupid little pjs I gave them in my other art lol I’m not very creative, but these grown (4’11 foot tall) men look good in graphic patterned pjs x’D

This took me a few days to get done. Not the best but its okay x’D Cuddle poses are always tricky x-x

Well regardless, hope you enjoy the fluffy comfort 💜💙

[tittysuckersworld]

have tryed out clip studio paint!!! my thoughts: neat but a bit hard to control. love love how i can sketch on here though. looks and works a lot like paper so mabey this will be how i get more digital sketching done!! ibis paint is still better for super finnished arts i think.

also ideas with chuuya/arahabaki thingies because the ideas of god and man are funky uwu

[keepingupwiththeboltons]

My bet on if they cave and add nettles to the show, is that they wont have her pop up behind a rock and suddenly exist and already have claimed sheepstealer, but instead theyll do something insane and stupid and have her claim the cannibal or some shit instead

[dxxtruction]

Do you think - all speculation here but let's indulge a bit anyway - do you think, from Armand's perspective when he's in all likelihood just heard Daniel voice his complaints and beg to be turned into a replacement for all Louis' lost, that that could be a part of his choice to then come in when Louis' on his neck? That a part of him was thinking... even if Louis is angry in the moment... that Louis would inevitably do it? (He could, at least?)

He kept him alive all this time. He'd shared with him things he never shares. It's morning and he'd still kept his attention. He's special, Armand knows without needing to hear it out of Louis' mouth.

And like, from his perspective does he see this replacement as the last thing Louis needs? Considering how well filling a void by making another vampire had turned out for him the first time. How he'd been filling a seemingly un-fillable void as it is. How he's unstable, and not in the right mind to be taking on such a responsibility. How it's a bad idea doomed to fail, only a more disastrous mess to clean up in the end if he doesn't stop this now. Or, maybe let's say he's only at all concerned with himself, Armand has many selfish reasons to want Louis to move on. So, he at least finds Daniel, the potential of Daniel, to be a threat because of what he'd be replacing - leading to Daniel as this wedge between something that was already splitting hairs as it was. Maybe it's a bit of both, and either way, whether it's a success or not Daniel poses something Armand can't handle.

Anyway it'll be interesting to see how, or if, they bridge the initial feelings towards Daniel on Armand's part with the Daniel we have now. Cause there's a lot of questions there. There's a strange sense of fondness towards him? At least this is something I'm seeing in their interactions so far.

[wikitpowers]

analysis of the new kitty art bc i'm in shambles and can't stop thinking about it;

✨prepare yourself for an unnecessarily long post✨

THE PRIDE FLAG! MY HEART! 🏳️‍🌈 i want to know the reason why they have it! are they going to pride together? is it for shits and giggles bc ty comes out to kit? OR i have another theory ->

ty has got some sort of bruise or wound on his cheek and his tshirt is a bit ripped at the top and i need to know why; does that mean that he had a hard time getting to cirenworth (which is where i'm assuming the scene is taking place)? was he attacked by someone or something and maybe kit is putting the flag on him to warm him up (seems kinda silly ik but maybe... let me think my silly thoughts...). and maybe that’s how ty find out kit is into boys!!!! anyhow, i need to know who hurt him tho bc nobody touches my baby /:(

kit is wearing pink! and it looks so lovely on him! he's a jumper person people! and it's really not surprsing considering he's living in england now & the uk ain't known for its warmth let me tell u

THE LONGING LOOKS! we are getting simps kitty in tlkof and it's only the first book oh we are gonna be fed so well mark my words

hair and eye colour contrasts = ✨insane✨

the door for some reason makes me think this is in fact, in cirenworth and might possibly be taking place not long after their reunion? but maybe that's just me but who knows

KIT'S ARMS AROUND TY! PHYSICAL CONTACT GUYS! WE HAVE PHYSICAL CONTACT THIS IS NOT A DRILL! i just know they are both describing electricity and warmth and my heart won't be able to take it i'm afraid

iconic kit jacket appearance ahhhhh! cassie wasn't lying about making him wear it in twp (i'm so so happi heheheheeh🫶🏻) -> also,,, there are some scuff marks on it i swear! are the years of usage finally coming through?

their runes,,,, i'm obsessed! like they are both officially full-on shadowhunter boyfriends :( and something about seeing kit's skin covered in them has me emotional like he's all grown up :(

HERONDALE AND BLACKTHORN NECKLACES ON TY ARE CRAZY! as if ty could be even more obvious about his feelings. he's really out here wearing the heron necklace, practically declaring that he's been thinking about kit for the whole time they were apart *cries*

kit’s herondale ring. yes, i am watching u.

hyperfocusing on kit’s dimple don’t mind me -> but where. is. his. freckle? i’m sad

[side note] i knew kit is the type to wear ripped jeans, i knew it.

i'm excited to see if i'm right about some of these theories once the book actually comes out! i just hope it gets here quick! HURRY UP RELEASE DATE!

[mirrortouchedsea]

dark. that was all he had ever known. cold, dark, damp. the boy shivers in the small room, painfully alone, only a book and his magic to keep him company. he tries not to use his magic very often, though. it seemed that the people above knew when he used it and they always always always refused to give him food until he “woke up” next, if they bothered to keep track of that. maybe this time he’ll learn their lesson. the boy whispers his spell, cur memini, and creates a small light in his fingers. this is the only spell he can cast safely, too small to be noticeable by the people above. he holds his hand over the fading book on the floor. the boy can’t read the letters on the page, but this book has pictures. he flips through it again, careful of the pages that were falling apart, admiring the figure in armor who always comes to rescue the figure in the tower, cut off from the world, just like him. the boy frequently dreams of a figure in armor coming to save him, despite the years he has spent alone. dark and cold and damp. 

the room the boy lives in, the only room he has memories of, is empty besides himself and the book. sometimes the people above would give him water and stale bread to eat, and then there was a cup and a dirty plate, but otherwise it was just the boy and the book. the boy knows why the people above have locked him away, they told him that he was a freak of nature, unnatural, dangerous. but the boy could only make lights in his palm, and that wasn’t very dangerous at all. he thinks to himself that the people above are the dangerous ones, locking away a child for something like this, but he can’t say that out loud. he doesn’t want to die again. 

the boy’s stomach grumbles and he curls in on himself, the light in his palm fades out. he longs to see the sun again, to play with the other children he can hear through the ceiling, to be normal. the people above must have decided to punish him again, though, as he doesn’t remember the last time he had anything to drink, to eat. his stomach would eat through his skin and he would still wake up the next day. why can’t he just die once and for all and be rid of the pain? why is the world keeping him here? why was he even born?

the boy closes his eyes, and falls asleep. maybe this time it won’t hurt so much. 

--- 

how long has he been here? the boy doesn’t keep track of time. he knows he’s died at least a dozen times, but how long does it take for a dozen lifetimes to pass? 

--- 

a clattering on the floor wakes the boy up. the people above decided he can eat today. stale bread and water again, but better than nothing to the boy. he crawls closer to it, listening to the door. it closes and the voices disappear. where was the sound of the lock? did they forget? 

the boy scarfs down his food and water before tiptoeing up the stairs. he doesn’t hear any voices, but he needs to be careful. he doesn’t remember what the above looks like, but he needs to leave. he needs to be free. 

slowly, quietly, he opens the door. it’s dark on the other side of it, but still much, much brighter than his room ever was. he closes his eyes but keeps the door open. breathe in, and out. opens his eyes again, blinking the brightness away. pushes the door further open. steps on the hard ground outside the door. he’s so close. closes the door quietly. turns around and holds his breath. where was outside? pick a direction and go. his legs hurt. turn the corner, listen for voices. voices are dangerous, get away from the voices. whisper his spell, create a small light. keep moving keep moving keep moving. window ahead. break it? open it? is he strong enough? lift the window up. too weak. voices coming. hurry hurry hurry must get out now. whisper spell again, hand on window. break the glass and jump through it. cuts on feet cuts on legs deal with that later. voices getting louder voices shouting. run run RUN. 

the boy runs away from the building, away from his room. freedom is so close. first get to the trees, then… he hasn’t thought that far, but he will find a way. gunshots from the house. he runs faster, must get to the trees, must hide, must be free. cur memini, he whispers again, crossing into the forest. his spell can make lights and now break windows, but he needs it to protect him at this moment. run run run until the voices are quiet again. his legs are giving out, but he needs to run. he can’t die now or they’ll find him. keep running. bare feet on sticks and stones and sharp things, everything hurts but he can’t stop. he keeps running until the sun comes up. his heart beats out of his chest. 

--- 

when he wakes up he doesn’t know how much time has passed. his heart beats fast and he sits up. did they find him? he looks around. trees, rocks, a gurgling stream. he’s free. he’s free. he sighs and lays back down. how far did he run? he needs to go further. away from other people, away from anyone who might lock him up again. he sits up again and forces himself to stand and walk towards the sound of the stream. he can start there. water is important, and he might be able to get food from the little stream too. 

his first drink of the stream water is icy cold, quenching his lifelong thirst in just a few swallows. he washes his face with it, removing years of sweat and grime. he wants to sit by the stream forever if only he could, but the people will find him eventually if he doesn’t keep moving. but he allows himself a few minutes to bathe in the water, savoring the feeling of water on his skin. his stomach still growls, wanting something more filling than the freezing water of the stream, but that would have to wait. he needs to get his bearings. 

the light of the outside world is almost blinding, he realizes. the sun and the snow made it almost impossible to see anything. he should get up above the trees. can he even do that? cur memini, he says, trying to get his voice to be louder than a whisper. his feet float a few inches above the ground. he closes his eyes and says his spell again with more conviction. Cur Memini. he feels himself shooting into the air before he opens his eyes. he can see the forest stretch out for miles around him. trees covered in snow in every direction. if the old house is behind him, he should fly straight ahead, towards the forests on the mountains. tentatively, he leans forward and focuses his magic on keeping himself afloat. 

it doesn’t take much to exhaust what little magic he has, but he’s put more distance between himself and the old house and the people above now. he should be safe to rest, truly rest. but first he should find something to eat. is there anything to eat out here? something in his head tells him to look a little closer to the ground. to his left. there’s a bush full of berries. he’s never had anything but stale bread, and doesn’t know what to expect as he crushes one with his teeth. 

the sensation overtakes him for a brief moment. the berry is sweet, yet tart, and delicious. it’s the best thing he’s ever eaten and he thanks the little voice in his head for the information as he picks several more berries from the bush. the juice runs down his chin and makes him sticky, but it feels good. he feels truly alive for the first time. 

once he’s finished picking the bush clean of its fruits, he needs to find a place to rest, to stay warm. he’s shivering in the intense cold of the north, but it’s nothing he isn’t used to. the room was never very warm after all. he listens to the little voices calling out to him, guiding him towards a small cave, instructing him on how to make a small fire to warm himself up. a small rabbit brushes against his leg and he swears one of the voices is coming from it. and with the fire going, he thanks the rabbit before it hops away back into the snow. he would be roasting that same rabbit over the fire a few months later. 

the boy can’t stay in the cave forever though. as days turn to weeks turn to months, he worries that the people above are getting closer to him. they’ll put him back in that cold, dark, damp room again. he needs to keep moving. he has been practicing his magic, casting stronger spells, and he needs to be ready to fly. it's been long enough. cur memini he says holding his hand out. a rough stick with twigs tied to the end flies into his hand. it’s a poor excuse for what he understands is a broom, but it will work. he climbs onto it and focuses. cur memini cur memini cur memini. he lifts off the ground and watches as the branches of the trees get shorter and eventually he passes above the treetops. 

he takes a moment to gather his bearings. he no longer remembers the direction the house was in, but going up is his best bet of staying away from the people above. he laughs, realizing that he is the one above them now. after a moment, he flies into the mountains. the small voices change into bigger, unfamiliar ones as he gets further into the mountain range. they tell him to hide, to stay away. he doesn’t listen. they cannot be more dangerous than the humans he is running from. 

the boy lands, still exhausted from using so much magic, but he was able to travel further this time. that has to count for something, surely. he gathers some sticks and looks for another cave to make his home in. the caves remind him too much of the room he left, so he chooses to stay close to the entrance, close to the light that reminds him he is free. the fire keeps the animals away, but the voices are curious about the new presence in their woods. they make him curious too. he should stay in the cave tonight though and regain his energy. maybe he can get some small game to fill his stomach before settling in for the night. he listens for a rabbit’s voice, or maybe a squirrel, anything that would be small enough to kill with his hands. 

at last, a small fox’s voice is heard nearby. he wonders if fox will taste different from the other game he’s eaten thus far. he lifts a hand-sized rock and slinks out of the cave towards the voice. it takes a few minutes to find the source, but the fox is curled under a tree, shivering, hungry, just like him. the boy hesitates before bludgeoning it and slinging the corpse over his shoulders. there are more foxes. he is much more important. 

the fox is only the first animal he hunts in those mountainous woods. he spends several years in that forest and eventually humans settle up there as well. the boy, or rather, the man now, has made a name for himself amongst the human populations of the north. he is no longer afraid of humans capturing him and locking him up. they are still terrified of him, but now he is in control of that terror. the hunters that left his territory alive whispered tales of the great wizard owen who inhabited the mountains and terrorized anyone who had the bad luck of running into him. 

all of this is perfectly fine with owen. eventually his reputation will grow beyond himself, encapsulating atrocities that were impossible for even someone as strong as oz to commit, but that would be a problem for future owen. for now, he is still young and living in his cave on the outskirts of a small village and scaring hunters who stray too far from their boundaries. the wolves don’t like these visitors either and gladly listen to owen’s lamentations. it keeps his hands clean of the bloodshed if he isn’t casting the spell himself. the wolves don’t care for owen either, but they respect him. and that is enough for owen. 

the first of the unwanted visitors was a young man, someone who wanted to provide for his family. he pleaded with owen and the wolves to let him go and he wouldn’t cause any problems. those pleas fell on deaf ears though as owen looked the man in the eyes. won’t your family be disappointed, he asked almost innocently, you don’t have anything to show for your efforts. the man stammered a response, they’d rather i come back alive with nothing than die trying to find food. is that so, owen reached out for the man’s chin, the distance between their faces was almost nothing. y-yes, sir, please just let me go and i won’t bother you anymore. owen grinned. oh i’m sure you won’t be causing us any trouble again. the wolves stalked out of the woods, drooling at the prospect of tearing a piece of that man for themselves. owen snapped his fingers, and they came running forward, only to stop mere inches from the now trembling man. there was a suspicious yellow stain in the snow beneath him. p-p-please sir, anything you ask, it’s yours! then make sure you tell the rest of your little village that this forest belongs to the great wizard owen. the man ran off, leaving behind a hunting rifle and a ratty sack. the rifle would be of use, but the sack became tinder for his fires. 

despite the warning from that first man, hunters continued to enter into owen’s territory. and one after the other, they ran off screaming with their tails between their legs. this should have annoyed owen, that people would ignore all of the warnings and stories that had started popping up about him, but it doesn’t. their fear feeds into his magic power, only making him stronger, and that is all fine with owen. he is no longer a weak child locked in the damp, dark basement, and he never will be again. 

[thewhizzyhead]

hi its me so back when wattblr was at its peak (2020), watt basically gave me a drug that made me really fuckin creative and want to do a bajillion musicals. 4 years later, warriors has now force-fed me this drug again. Welcome back to me being annoying as fuck woo here's the Izzy Original Rambly Musical Masterlist - Part 1

+ Misfits - been developing this SINCE I WAS 13 and um its Basically A Show Within A Show idea inspired by my past experiences with my former church and their Christmas musicals. TO UNDERSTAND THIS HERE IS SOME BACKSTORY: so when I was 10-13 I used to be in Christmas musicals staged by my sunday school. These musicals were Pilipino translations (the songs stayed English) of Typical American Children Christmas Musicals found on youtube (check out A Rocking Royal Christmas on YouTube yes we did a Filipino translation of that and I played the narrator when I was 11 I'm not kidding). When I was 13, I wanted to make something more resonant to the teen crowd as um to be quite honest the stuff my fellow Sunday school people were going through were Fucking Heavy and i wanted to feature that + I always knew that the Very Kiddy Musicals we set up were mainly a show for the parents and all that. I wanted a message of faith that actually resonated with my age group - and i developed it far enough that at 14, i was commisioned by my sunday school teachers to work with the church's orchestra in actually having this developed! But 15 happened and I started questioning a lot of the stuff my Sunday school and church does in terms of like politics, mental health stuff, sexuality and identity and pressuring me and my fellow teens to become something we were not, and it really felt alienating, almost as if I was simply putting on a show to appease all those that look to me and want me to be the Best of Young Christian Soldiers

So the concept of Misfits is um okay just read this ramble i wrote 3 years ago that is MUCH MORE COHERENT AND COHESIVE than the descriptions ive been whipping up for three hours now:

There is more to this like I have been developing this for 7 years now and there IS A TRACKLIST and each character has a storyline and a certain dynamic with all of the characters - like all are connected one way or another - but the basic gist is:

1.) The Narrators Put On A Show For The Religious Audience, then Start Crumbling at The Questions Presented and Prompted by The Misfits, but also Upon The Realization Of How Much Pressure They Are Under in Supporting A Narrative They Are Conditioned To Unquestionably Trust + the reveal of the secrets they hide and deny about themselves in order to seem as the Perfect Model Christian (sexuality, mental health issues, parental/pastoral pressures, abuse, psychological trauma as a result of Putting On The Show - the Time Travel element is not just there for the purposes of the show, it has a very important plot element too that connects the leader of the Narrators with the defacto leader of the Misfits) + how do they deal with these secrets being slowly revealed when They Know They Are Being Watched

2.) The Misfits Try To Navigate The Strange Musical Scenario and Why The Narrators Seem Preachy, While Also Being Forced to Address Their Pasts and Presents on why They Are Deemed "Misfits" in the First Place (outside of Christian conservatism, there exists undeniable concern for the wellbeing of the "Misfits" aka juvenile delinquency and poverty, mental health issues, and um the defacto leader being a Former Member of the Narrators wHICH WILL BECOME THE RUNNING THREAD TO THE PLOT TWIST which is why they were chosen in the first place), so basically The Misfits Are Challenged to Acknowledged that They Are Indeed Troubled (especially with carefully planted plot points and script prompts used by the Narrators to have these in the open) - but the original Producers Approved plotline has them Turn Back To God, but how can they do so if the problems they face are rooted in the current religious institutions in place? That is the question presented by the Misfits to the Narrators - which is what causes their show to fall apart

3.) Through Questioning The Mission They Were Given and the Environments That Mandate Them To Do So Despite Their Own Struggles (Narrators), and Through Questioning Themselves, Their Struggle, and The Acknowledgment That They Do Need Help (Misfits), the two groups face what I want to be the ultimate thesis question of the musical: when you grow up, where does one find hope? This is my attempt at breaking down the concept of religion because ultimately, people look to a higher figure in the dream of hope and the want for answers - thus, religion cannot ultimately be taken away from people who truly want and seek it. But we gotta deconstruct the narrative that hope is only limited to these religious institutions - and criticism must be relayed to the institutions that mandate that people serve them for the hope they supposedly provide but subsequently break because of prejudice, conservatism, and close-mindedness towards the people the Bible says to serve above all.

So yea the thesis slogan is basically: grow as you go, redefine your mission, and break the script if needed be.

Also it's pop rock, very inspired by SPRING AWAKENING, we are the tigers, and a dash or rent. The songs are English when They Are Part of the Producer's script, and Tagalog when They Are Not Part of the Script (like the characters being honest or unexpected rebuttals to the narrators' preaching moments or when the narrators themselves reveal their secrets). Otherwise, dialogue is taglish YAY

[gifti3]

u know what i hope they add....(rideable) horses

[front-facing-pokemon]

[autemimperator]

*knocks on the door* “Hey, Bisset, Chidi, Open up, fo’ me, will ya, sha? It startin’ to rain bad bad” *Georgia/Gigi leans against the door, figuring one of the two would answer her, having surprised herself by remembering how to even get there in the first place*

@alice-of-hightable

[ A familiar voice outside the door, the Marquis has the doors be opened just in time for a cold breeze to have swept the outside. ]

➜ The doors of the estate open

“ 𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓 ? I am rather . . . surprised to see you here in the middle of central Paris than the Continental in New York . ”

“ And I’m also surprised that you are a little… how to say this ? Vous avez besoin de vous rafraîchir (You need to freshen up) . Just a tiny bit. ”

[ She has not changed. Still a little condescending with more respect attached to his actions and words for Georgia since they know eachother. ]

[kaiser1ns]

KIKI KIKI i have a questionnnnn what is ur favorite thing about chika??

NYX MY LOVE , sorry for the delay but here we go !!! this is going to be like a selfship post but anyway enjoy :3

one of my favourite things about him is his eyes — the color and the form. i can stare at them all day and observe the way he expresses his emotions with only just a look: they widen when he is excited, narrow when he is sceptical, when he looks away showing disinterest.

especially love it when his eyes go big and he just stands there with no thoughts in his brain, looking like a cute small kitten.

of course, you would have guessed it ... his arms !!! i don't even have to talk about it, just know that once i get him to hold me, i am not leaving his embrace and he doesn't have a choice letting me go either. i'm also kinda tall, slightly above the average, 168cm (5'6") and chika is 183cm (6'0") so it's gonna be so much easier when we hug or kiss. wrapping my arms around his waist, while he hugs my shoulders. hugs !! from !! behind !! where he wraps his toned arms around my chest and i can feel his heartbeat, resting his head on top of my head or me hugging him from behind, my arms wrapping arous his waist while my head rests on his back. he doesn't have to bend much just to lean slightly forward while i tilt my head up and then steal a kiss.

next is his jaw ! i just found it so attractive for some reason, it's not too sharp just perfect. it's actually a little embarrassing talking about things i found attractive in fictional men because i do find them appealing in real men. neck/collarbone/jaw kisses are a must ! just appreciating every part of him and showing it in kisses, so many kisses!

i have a little bit of a long nails so it's really calming for me when i trace all over his arms, squeezing the soft flesh, scratching it, feeling his muscles tightening... i think he will love receiving massages, and good for him because i have magical hands, gonna make him relax because for someone who looks calm, he is very tense! don't worry baby, i got ya ♡

next his lips, those soft lips, that i can kiss every day and night ♡ tiptoeing to reach his beautiful and soft face, cupping his cheeks with my hands and leaving a loving kiss. kissing his neck if standing close together, as the height difference is literally perfect. surprising him with a quick peck on the lips or cheek by pulling him down by his collar or reaching up. when he smiles, oh my that smile im melting, blushing and giggling because he is just so cute i could nom nom him. i will always nom nom chika !

i'm not done with his arms. play !! fights !! one of my love languages is physical affection and i also tend to show my love by hitting and biting. so i launch at him with all my might, fists flying, slaps landing with sharp snaps. he barely flinches, effortlessly twists out of my grips. i go harder, twisting his arm back, and he responds with just enough force to match me, never more. i know he could easily overpower me, but he’s learned where the line is—never crossing it. i taught him well. play fighting with chika is my favorite time ♡

okay but his fashion sense, im stealing his wardrobe, all of it !!! he dresses so nice i would like to wear his clothes all the time, oh my god his shirt would probably be slightly oversized and i will use them as pajamas. mmm, yes we are the dress to impress couple, hitting pose 28 !!!

LAST BUT NOT LEAST his amazing and pretty long hair. i don't like men with long hair, but there are exceptions like chika, my pretty princess. i bet its so soft and fluffy, running my hands through it will be like me playing with clouds. playing with hid hair would calm me down in seconds, even making me fall asleep on the spot. occasionally dying the yellow tips again almost turning myself into a minion with those yellow painted hands. i love his hair and the style he has it (please bae don't cut it, i will love you no matter what but please dont)

OVERALL I JUST LOVE CHIKA, ALL OF HIM. he climbed the ranks to be one of my favorite characters faster than anyone, so he set a new record !!

(please someone get me a boyfriend because im so lonely and the way i cope is by liking and obsessing over fictional characters, thank you!)