#not ship art idk if thats clear

[artish-boi]

[poppyies]

Yay, another one!!!!

[cokalee]

.

[withonly-sweetheart]

Back to the Sea

The mysterious stranger on the boat happens to be your roommate and you can't help but wonder who he is. Something about him captivates you, but what happens when an artist loses his brush?

a/n: so... this is all @chesue00's fault. dont get me wrong ilysm pookie but i cannot tell you how much this was going through my head the entire day like i wanted to get home so badly and write this i almost told my teach to fuck off... but thank u ur so talented it hurts like that inspired me sm and thats what art should do! ty! <333

tw: angst?? bc its not my fic unless its got angst (hopefully...) uhm mentions of like illnesses and the flu and stuff but idk help

wc: 5.2k - yes im not even kidding i wrote this all tdy and its not even grammar checked will do that later hehehehehe <333

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across the vast expanse of the ocean, you sit at the edge of the ship, gaze fixed on the endless waves stretching out before her. The gentle sway of the ship beneath you, the salty sea air mingling with the haunting cries of the seagulls soaring overhead; it all served as a reminder of sorrow and loss that clings to you like a heavy shroud.

You take it between your fingers, as if you can feel the harsh, unforgiving ivory material form under your hand, and wrap it around yourself tighter, cherishing the small bursts of warmth you get from sitting up here.

Each wave that laps against the side of the ship fails to cover the whispers of the crowd steadily disappearing around you, pointing fingers shamelessly, wondering why a girl your age is sitting, all alone, staring wistfully out at the cerulean abyss.

Someone clears their throat behind you. The last thing you want is to be bothered, so you twist over your shoulder to dismiss them, but somewhere up your throat, the words clump together into a soft gasp.

You have seen him around the ship, when you were first boarding, but you didn’t get the best look at him. Now that you do, you know one thing as true as the sky is blue.

He’s breathtaking. His eyes, reflecting the azure of the ocean, flash with lightning quick irritation, as if your presence inconveniences him. The curve of his lips set in a straight line, tightening almost imperceptibly, jaw clenching ever so slightly.

If you weren’t looking so hard, you could’ve missed it all. 

But how could you miss anything he does, when each ripple of his feature is like a brushstroke? An artist’s slow, deliberate intentions, painting the man in front of you.

“You are taking up the seat,” he mumbles, so quietly you almost don’t catch it. “Apologies,” you respond, shifting to make room for him. The dip between his eyebrows deepens and you find yourself frowning back. “Is something wrong?”

His gaze clouds, turning a muffled shade of gray. “No.”

You hum in response before turning back to the ocean. The heavy silence writhes between them, its unseen grip tightening with each breath. Your mind churns, sensing dark depths his haunted eyes warn away.

So you stand and stroll away, not sparing a glance at the brooding figure. You don’t wish to descend into his sorrow. You have enough of your own, and the tension crackling between you is nearly tangible. 

You know well that behind every handsome man, there is a troubled mind.

And the windows to those thoughts are the eyes.

<><><><>

“If the brothe bee to sweete, put in the more wine, or els a litle vineger.” 

You recall this line from a cookbook your mother once owned as you stare down at the barely distinguishable liquid in a bowl in front of you. Chips of wood flake off and dissolve into the mess of what you think are minced vegetables pooling at the bottom. Though the bubbles of oil faintly remind you of home, nothing else is the same.

You can’t remember the last time you had traditional soup, from the homeland, where everyone's the same as you and food is plentiful, rich in the scent of tangy spices and fresh vegetables and ripe fruit, where the forest birds sing sweet melodies in your ear.

But you are no longer there. It will, as all things do, fade with time, resolving as just a landscape drawn in your head, reduced to nothing but scribbles.

With a sigh far too troubled for your age, you gingerly push the bowl away, careful not to slosh any of it over the edge. You know you are being picky; food is food, and starvation will slowly creep up on you when you least expect it.

But it is better to starve than throw yourself from the starboard, letting the choppy waves consume you. Hunger takes time, crescendoing pain and ache until you cannot bear it. Suffering will suffice, at this moment.

And across the dining hall, the small room housing yet a few late night eaters, you spot him saunter in. Long, black trench coat brushing his ankles, a hat you did not see that now casts shadows upon his chiseled face.

His overalls strain with effort and crumple into wrinkles as he sits a few tables away, raising a hand, wordlessly summoning a bowl of soup that carries from tentative hands. He waves the aged woman away, and perhaps he does not catch the longing look in her eyes.

She has not seen a man so divine in years. Her time at sea has clouded her judgment. This is yet another reason why you must traverse the ocean blue, to prevent the jobs piling up at what you thought was your home, near the port, where the docks carry back the ashes of your family.

You used to love the ocean, the beach, the shores. When the sea hurt you, your father would kiss the tears away, murmuring soft assurance in the shell of your small ear. Although she was nearly a decade older, your sister would never decline an offer of yours to hunt for the little creatures that popped up from the swirling sand, watching them disappear underneath your slow hands.

You miss them. Influenza never failed to take, take, take; the greedy fingers latched on to your family before you could arrive home that day to sick corpses so pale you could not recognize them.

The doctor had suggested a traditional burial,but you knew there was one more thing the sea needed. You lit the pyres, watched their souls mingle with the smoke that gasped for the clouds, and waited.

When all that was left of your loved ones was charred, ivory dust that seemed to sparkle back at you, unaware of its fate, you gathered it into a pot that your grandmother gifted you.

The ocean rejected your offering, at first. It veered away, pulling water from the shore lines, but you stood fast. And it came back, gathered what was already gone, and took it away from you.

The sea never fails to remind you of what you’ve lost.

But here, on the ship, a marvel of engineering, keeping you afloat, you are not truly with the sea. You will not make yourself mold to the pitiful, lonely girl everyone expects you to be. 

With that resolve, you cradle the soup back to your chest, staring it down with defiant eyes. The ocean will not have another victim, you will make sure of that.

It burns your throat all the way down, saltier than the sea. Bile raises to combat it but you force spoon after spoon into your stomach. All that remains from your battle is the wood, which you tried your best to separate from the soup, but you are sure that you definitely swallowed at least some of it.

As the thinnest definition of dinner warms your insides against the cold that threatens to seep in, your eyes find him across the galley. He sits alone, as always, nursing a tin cup and gazing into its contents as if answers lay within.

You recall your chance encounter in the night, the rare moments of grace amid tumult never far from his eyes. Though he often keeps away from the streams of people, you have the feeling it has less to do with aloofness than wounds not easily unveiled.

As if finally sensing your gaze, his eyes lift and meet yours across the dusty space. There seems to be no cracks in his steely expression, his stormcloud eyes, but there is a flicker of emotion - curiosity, or perhaps kinship's first stirrings. 

You offer the barest nod before returning focus to your meager meal. Yet all the while, currents stronger than the sea pull at your thoughts, drawing them ever back towards that quiet figure and mysteries that beg to be revealed. You tilt your head to the side, rubbing fingers down your neck, feeling your pulse race underneath your skin. Massaging the area, you force yourself to relax.

You force yourself to believe that those eyes haven’t jarred your thoughts.

<><><><>

“I must… have the wrong room.” Those same eyes stare back at you, hands trembling slightly around parchment yellowing at the edges, swirling with confusion. “I apologize.”

“It wouldn’t, by chance, be 930, would it?” you ask. 

“Er… yes,” he admits with a dip of his head, looking almost embarrassed by the situation. “I suppose I’ll go request another-”

“It’s quite alright,” you race to say before you can stop yourself. “I do not mind.”

A small corner of his mouth lifts, if only for a second, and when his expression goes back to being neutral, you find yourself wanting to coax more emotions from him. 

You help him get settled in, telling him he could take the bed on the right. When he’s finished fussing with the sheets, you sit on your respective mattresses, awkwardly staring down at your hands.

"I... thank you," he finally replies, his voice soft. "I did not expect to find understanding here."

“Your name, sir?”

“Leon. Your name, I already know.”

“How fascinating.”

“You are a… popular subject of gossip upon this vessel.”

“Why are you traveling to England?” you ask, finding yourself making small talk to switch the topic. “Are you simply traveling?”

“Yes.” 

“Where is your hometown?” His eyes glaze over with the familiar homesickness you can recognize.

"My home lies in a small village far from here," he replies, gazing into memories only he could see. "A quiet place, surrounded by green countryside and simple folks." His eyes find yours with rare openness. "And you? What brings one so young to cross the sea alone?"

“I’m paying my lovely aunt a visit,” you say vaguely, trying to make your voice light. But he must hear the undertones of it, because he cocks his head to the side, arching a golden eyebrow.

“Is that so?” he muses. “I hope you enjoy your trip.”

“I’ve noticed you carry that briefcase around quite a bit,” you say, quickly changing the subject. “Is it dear to you?”

He laughs, a warm, rich tone that sparks something in your heart. 

Maybe… just… maybe?

“Not so,” he explains. He leans over to grab the case resting on the nightstand and clicks it open. “This is the reason I am traveling, you see.”

You peer over the top of the rusty case to reveal… pencils?

“You are… an artist?” you ask, slightly confused. You hadn’t taken him for a participant of the fine arts, but at your query, his eyes seem to light with an inspiration not previously there.

“I have lost my flame,” he says slowly, cautiously, as if placing his words carefully. “I thought England would fix… the problem… but perhaps… you could help me?” At your face, he bites his lip. "A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor, as they say."

“Who has ever said that, and who am I to decline a stranger in need?” You chuckle, and his grin seems to usurp his entire expression. 

“You need not do anything,” he rushes to say, hands flurrying to unpack the materials carefully stowed away in the briefcase. The determined, set look on his face is enough to convince you, and even if it hadn’t, realistically, would you be able to say no?

He stills suddenly, observing you, sweeping over you, drinking in everything, as if to absorb your being. When his gaze meets yours, he smiles and it truly reaches his previously emotionless eyes.

“You are… perfect,” he whispers. He holds his pencil up, bottom lip disappearing as he frowns, grumbling in frustration. “But this lighting is… not quite correct.”

Leon eyes the room, then stands suddenly. You watch him, watch him drag a chair from the small writing desk over to the foot of his bed, planting it firmly. He points a finger to the empty space, gesturing for you to sit there.

“What exactly are you planning?” You ask with a smile.

The one he returns matches your curiosity. “We shall see.”

And that is exactly how, a few minutes later, you sit with your legs crossed, hands folded over one another in your lap, with a soft smile decorating your face.

“You must stay still,” he chastises, gazing at you with a languid look in his eyes, voice dreamy, as if he sees something in you that you can’t.

“You have not yet answered my question.” You ignore the red blooming up your neck at his fluttering gaze. He lounges further into the bed, hiding more of himself away, spinning the pencil between his fingers.

He looks almost thoughtful as he scribbles away, muttering to himself, lost in a trance. You lean against the dresser, resting your body weight on it, feeling yourself relax.

His eyes move back to you, and he jolts, like something drastic has changed. His hands fly rapidly across the paper, gaze locked onto you. He smudges something with his finger, erases something here and there, and eventually, he huffs a sigh and leans back, looking somewhat satisfied with the paper.

Intrigued, you stand from your position, stretching your stiff joints. “May I see?”

Leon snorts a laugh. “Of course not.”

“It is my portrait, no?” You grin. “Show me.” Without another word, you lean over the foot of the bed, over the elaborate carvings of wood, and try to sneak a peek at the paper.

He lets out what you can only describe as a boyish squeal, and yanks the pad away from you, clutching it to his chest. “I said no!”

Leon tries his best to play-keep away from your hands, folding the paper carefully in half as he stuffs it into an inner pocket of his shirt. When you try to reach for it, instinctively, he flushes a red hue that matches the crimson of your bedsheets.

“Apologies,” you whisper.

“It’s alright,” he whispers back.

The air has gone back to tense, anguish, as if you are both hurtling towards something you cannot stop, racing towards a finish line in a race you do not wish to compete in. When he climbs into bed, wordlessly, you wonder what you did to deserve this torture, to have a masterpiece sleeping a few feet away. 

He purses his lips and blows out the flame in the lantern standing proud on your nightstand, murmuring a quick goodbye.

As your eyes adjust to the absence of light, you watch the blanket blow out around him, creeping over his body, hugging him tightly. His snores come quickly, gentle and quiet, not bothersome.

You sigh and close your eyes, wishing for the relief of sleep to come as fast as his.

<><><><>

Strangely enough, someone rouses you from your sleep, something you didn’t expect. Breakfast calls were a luxury reserved for those with money, but you weren’t going to complain. Missing the first meal of the day had serious consequences in your household.

This isn’t your household, though. These aren’t your rules.

And that definitely isn’t a handkeep’s fingers clutched around your arm.

“Leon?” you murmur, rubbing your eyes, savoring the fuzzy corners before every comes into focus with sudden clarity. He stands beside your bed, gaze darting here and there. 

“Oh… you are awake,” he says as he isn’t the reason it is so.

“You woke me,” you state blankly, blinking up at him.

“I suppose… well,” he mutters, then sighs, shaking his head. “Never mind that.”

“How often does this happen?” you ask quietly, sitting up. “Are you plagued by night horrors?”

“I am not a child!” he snaps, then immediately softens, regret pooling in his eyes. “It is just… I thought you had left…”

“Yet I am here, no?” you say, slightly bemused. The tips of Leon’s ears turn a salmon pink as he lets out a shuddering breath, nodding. 

“I see that,” he says with a small smile, sitting beside you, leaving enough space to respect your privacy. You return one with just as much carefully measured emotion, not wanting to scare him away, wanting him to open up.

As gray dawn spreads its thin wings slowly over calm waters, he recollects himself. He tells you fragments of his past, picking up pieces of his past until it fits into a puzzle perfectly. An orphan, talent stripped from him by the urge to survive.

You faintly think that he should also be a writer, because the way he tells his story is akin to the way an author paints a scene with just words. You can see his parents in the shadows, echoing in his laugh, in the slant of his nose, the pucker of his chin. 

He shrugs, twisting to face you. “I almost died, there, on the streets.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

His eyes meet yours, “So am I.”

Seeing him in such a vulnerable state, you can’t help but feel inclined to share what truly happened to you as well.

“I’m not… just visiting my aunt.”

A ghost of a smile graces his lips. “I was thinking as much. Tell me, what is the true purpose of your visit.”

“My family recently passed from influenza. Only sorrow trails me in the States. Perhaps returning to my hometown will provide… solace?” You offer a dry laugh, but Leon’s expression goes stony as he takes your hands into his.

“I… did not know,” he says, sounding as sincere as you’ve ever heard him. “I made such a joke without understanding the full context… I apologize.”

“It is really nothing,” you rush to assure him, but more so because the crestfallen look on his face is something you do not wish to bring upon. “I forgive you.”

“You are still tired,” he says with another sigh. “I will wake you for breakfast. Sleep.”

He’s right. Too sleepy to protest, you clutch the blankets around you and shut out not only the slowly growing beams of sunlight from the window, but also the relief that emanates from Leon’s very being, flooding over you, bringing you the peace that lets you drift off.

<><><><>

You wake to frigid air seeping through cracks in the ship's walls, clouds hiding the sun’s bright smile. Throwing off your thin blankets, you grasp the warmth, hoping it still lingers. But your hand meets only cold, empty fabric. 

Panic rises in my throat as you rush from the sleeping quarters. Out on the icy deck, figures hustle to and fro under a pale, stormy sky. Your eyes scan for one in particular, relief flooding through you as you spot his lean form near the rail, gaze lost to the sea. 

"Leon," you call softly so as not to wake the other sleeping passengers. When he turns, worry is etched into his brows. You brush it off with a shaky smile. "I had feared the night's dangers had claimed you at last." 

“At last?” His lips turn up in return, reassuring you with his movement. But you can see the shadow neither of you could outrun, not with Death stalking your decks in his grim dance. 

Drawing near, you trace his stare to the horizon, limitless and cold. You stand in front of him as he lingers behind, hesitating, arms outstretched. 

“I wish to fly, one day,” you say jokingly. “But I suppose for now, swimming will do.”

“I cannot swim,” he admits quietly. “I never will.”

“Of course you can,” you insist. “Anyone can-”

“Not everyone has lost their brother to the sea.”

 The answer burns, searing your back in the way he delivers it, venom in his voice. But eventually, he sighs, as if giving in, and you can feel him get closer.

“May I?” You admire that he asks before anything, and when you nod, he wraps his arms around your waist, pushing you gently against the railing that you clutch tightly. He rests his head on your shoulder, craning his neck to stand comfortably.

Then he speaks again. “My deepest apologies. As you can tell… I miss him.”

"Then we'll face such fears together," you say with such finality you believe it yourself. "None are meant to wander depths of sadness all alone. But your brother's memory lives on you - a gift more precious than any sea could claim. I know this. And what are you doing now?”

Slowly, you can feel his lips curl upwards against your neck, sparking at your words, growing into that smile you’ve come to cherish. 

“You wish to fly? This is as close as I can get you, beloved.”

With a grin of your own spreading across your face, you outstretch your arms, leaning into the wind, wanting to let it carry you both away. Your fingers trace the sharp line of his jaw, coming to rest on his beating pulse that lives on despite all the world has tried to steal away.

You don’t know what overtakes you, the immense feeling of admiration you feel for him, that might be what spurs you to lean in. And, much to your surprise and pleasure, as soft morning light limns sea and sky in a hopeful blend of blue, your lips meet in a kiss - brief, chaste, yet speaking everything you need to hear. 

“At least I’ll have you,” he says, melting back into your embrace, tightening his arms around your hips. “One thing the sea will never take.”

But you should’ve known.

The waters are never done taking.

<><><><>

You do not know when the screams started. All you know is that they came with the rough tides, crashing against the boat, with the crackle of thunder and smoke hissing in the air. Everyone rushes to cram into the sleeping quarters, but living near the port all your life, you know better. You know exactly what is happening.

The boat is sinking.

And strangely enough, your first thought is to find Leon. He had asked you to wait a quiet moment on the deck, and you had both dismissed the rolling clouds, steadily creeping towards you while he disappeared below the deck.

You had been hoping that he would show you his art. Now you hope that you can get him out in time. But before you can scrunch up your dress and scramble into the quarters, someone grabs your arm.

You do not see the face. You know it is not Leon, he is infinitely calmer and more gentle than the rough fingers of whoever your captor is. As you struggle to look up at the face, you are tossed into a boat that hangs on the side of the ship.

“Women and children first!” a gruff voice calls out, presumably the one that just manhandled you. You try to protest, saying you need to go back, but the small boat fills up quicker than you expect, and eventually you are being slowly lowered down onto the choppy waves.

You stand on tiptoe, trying to make out any sign of Leon on the ship, hoping he makes it out okay. The people rowing the boat harshly yank you down before pushing away from the boat. Every stroke they make takes you farther and farther away, until the dense fog shrouds the entire ship from your view.

And the unexpected happens. You hear a loud crack and the boat immediately splinters into two. The women and their children huddle to one side, the bigger side, while you and some other girls stay put, eyes fixed on where you last saw the ship.

With no one to steer, you veer back towards it and it comes into view, only this time, it is on fire. Flames lick the sides, hissing where it meets the salty sea, climbing up the ship. And you see the mess of blond hair that you so desperately recognize.

“Leon!” You shout, screaming for his attention. His eyes snap to your general direction, scanning the area with a wide, panicked expression before landing on you. Almost immediately his face softens before it returns to its stony, default look.

You are confused for a moment before he quickly surveys the area. A raft hangs from the side, unused, calling his name, and you realize with shame that your boat is starting to sink, dipping into the water.

You and the other girls lean to the other side, pleading for help. Summoning all fading strength, you yell his name once more as waves close over your head. Darkness swallows your cries, drowning them in the murky ocean depths, yet in your fleeting consciousness, your trust for him remains like the anchor you wish him to be.

Breathless, gasping, you break the surface amid a sea of shrieks and sinking debris. There through the smoke a ragged shape appears, slicing swift as any bird towards you. Strong hands grasp and haul you aboard the makeshift raft, lying there to cling and spend your remaining prayers in thanks to Leon as he attends each soul amid the roiling deep, ferrying them from the ocean’s inky grasp with steady hands and calmer gaze.

“Are you alright, dear?” he calls to you after the third and final girl is pulled to safety, gasping for breath. “I did not expect this situation whatsoever.”

“Neither did I,” you murmur, spitting the remnants of the salt in your throat back into the sea, like returning a gift. “I suppose we will be alright now.”

Leon’s face crumples. “I’m afraid not.”

You groan. “What is it now? Is it the sharks from the depths? I will fight them with my bare hands, just you watch!”

You watch his expression flash through amusement, then back to pain. “We… I…”

“What troubles you so?”

He gestures a hand to the sea around you, to the drenched figures, far too many for the raft to carry. You realize this with the drop of your heart.

“There are too many of us,” he says apologetically, like he’s only hurting you. “One of us must leave.” 

For a second, you consider pushing one of the girls off. Anything to keep him. But you realize that your selfish thoughts should not take control. You grab his hands, clutching them tightly, holding them to your chest.

“Then it shall be me.”

Leon offers a weak smile. “No.”

“No?” you sputter. “What- it was not a question!”

“It will not be the answer either, my love,” he says gently, prying his hands from yours. “I will be the last. Please make sure of that.”

And before you can plead for him to stay, his weight shifts and you can feel the raft rising again. He casts one more, sorrowful look at you before he glides into the water, descending effortlessly. You reach for him, and your fingers brush his knuckles before he disappears forever.

Before he is gone. 

Yet another loved one.

Lost to the sea.

<><><><>

You wait for an indeterminate amount of time, waiting for the news to arrive one day at your aunt’s doorstep, that he is still alive, awaiting your arrival in some uncharted region. But no such idea comes. And eventually, the denial washes away and you are left with the loss that nothing can fix.

You rock in the chair of your living room, the smell of your aunt’s soup no longer bringing saliva to your mouth, but tears to your eyes, because now everything reminds you of Leon.

The bell rings outside and you can’t bring yourself to rise and answer the door with puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Your aunt knows this, so without sparing you another look, allowing you your privacy, opens the door just a smidge.

She makes conversation with the person standing outside before turning back to you with a soft smile. She hands you an envelope, and you cannot lie when your heart races up to the sky, finding purchase in the fluffy clouds.

You cannot find the words to thank her, but she knows this as well, and walks away without another word. When she disappears behind the kitchen corner, you rush to open the letter.

The first words send your heart plummeting back to where it was, perhaps even crashing through the layer of obsidian and burrowing itself in a place where it will never return. But upon scanning the rest of the thoughtful, heartfelt message, there is a tug that forces you to check the rest of the envelope.

And when you unfurl a piece of paper, long since forgotten in your brain, you muffle a cry with the back of your hand, the parchment trembling in your five, shaky fingers.

It is the portrait Leon drew of you. It made its way back to you.

You know, after seeing this, there is one thing you must do. You lie the paper down on the round table beside you, careful to preserve it.

You wash up, put on a dress your aunt lent to you, a blue, rippling thing that seems to reflect the ocean waves back at you. You tie your hair up, wanting to look somewhat presentable. 

And you call out a goodbye to your aunt, who’s smile you can hear in her voice, evident as she waves from the kitchen, ecstatic to see you out and about. But there is only one place you must go. One thing you must do to find the closure you are aching for.

Back to where it all started.

<><><><>

Tears that are the crystals of salt found in the ocean's depths stream down your face, as unnatural as the mixture of saltwater and freshwater, where one stops, another begins.

In the ocean, you slip from your skin, thoughts descending down a mad spiral, the spirits watching as you mingle with the essence of saltwater stinging your sunburned skin. The night air does little to nothing to cool your thoughts.

Is he there? In the droplets that cradle the back of your hands, trickling from the pool cupped in your palms. You can see him standing, just a few feet away, knee deep in the water, as constant as the waves and as calm as the tides.

Leon’s hair waves in the moonlight, a silent greeting to you, cerulean bathing his face in a ghastly blue, making him seem more and more like the ghost he is.

You raise a hand, out of instinct, choking back a sob. 

A smile curves those salty, timeless lips.

“You left me too,” you whisper through tears, crystals disappearing under the crescents of water brushing against your shorts. “Why can life not just be… easy? Simple?”

Leon chuckles, face softening in sympathy. “Did you forget what I told you already?”

You lift your head, rubbing granules of sand against your nose to muffle your sniffling. “What?” His grin is somehow both brighter than the moon and darker than the water you can’t see through.

“A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor.”

[asmogorna]

Okay so there’s this ww artist on ig called like tooth lilys or something and he’s always causing drama in the ww fandom and he mouthed off about your art and now heaps of insta ww fans are like talking about you :| free publicity?

ahhhh so thats whats happening .. lmao thats crazy

i checked out their story, and i sure doooo love how they leave some things out when talking about both situations that they mentioned to make me look worse ..

ok so

warning, yap session incoming

the "will wood in a (miku) binder" thing happened back in fall 2023 when i was still semi new to the fandom and didnt know a lot of things. so tho i to this day i dont think it was that big of a deal, i wouldnt do it today

it was an artwork made for shits and giggles, the context of which i have explained here before. i never meant to imply that will wood is trans and i certainly dont "headcanon" him as that. my curse is that even when joking around i tend to try and make my art look good, so i get why people thought it was unironic. and i know that it sounds like a lame ass excuse, but it legit didnt cross my mind that people would think i drew will wood as a trans guy or smth. legit my only thought process was "funny haha internet thing" + "my favorite thing" = "good idea"

now the usage of his real name is something i am genuinely sorry for, but it was an accident and a genuine mistake on my part. i remember seeing someone mention it casually in some comment section, and assuming that it was ok, since i didnt know he was in any way against it. (i also thought that it was the same name that he used in "the real will wood" in that one section cus it sounded a bit similar).

when i was informed about the fact that he doesnt want it spread around i deleted the post right away and apologized, so bringing it up like something i did on purpose and out of malicious intent is a tad bit .. misfitting, if you can use that word

now the hot topic of the day: my waywood art

i have said this before and i will say this again, how i feel about rpf is solely based off how the people involved feel about it

to clarify: i never drew anything inappropriate or even suggestive with them, the "worst" thing is 2 simple sketches of them smoochin. or. this.

idk if this is what they were referring to when talking about me drawing will wood and gerard way "making out" (specifically. because i think "making out" implies to be more sexual stuff than small kisses). and if so, then it once again feels like blowing things out of proportion

and now the point i want you to get: will wood wouldnt give a flying fuck

like i said earlier, i never drew anything inappropriate, because that would actually cross will's existent and real boundaries. you know, the ones that he stated

im not making some conspiracy theories about him being gay, like some people seem to imply in their inbox messages to me

im not sending a whole ass smut fanfiction to litwtc gmail or something, i dont bother him in instagram dms asking if he wants to fuck gerard way, im not shipping him with people who he actually knows personally and has to look in the eyes of from time to time

im not doing anything that he would actually care about

him and chris have joked about him being attracted to gerard before, and though im not saying that you can joke about everything theyve ever joked about, i feel like in our case its clear that will clearly doesnt care about the implications ? (i generally believe that ww fans would get their panties twisted about less things if more of them listened to what these 2 talk about so calmly on litwtc but i digress)

if he saw that some random teenager on tumblr is drawing him and gerard way (gasp of horror) holding hands, he'd laugh at it max and then move on with his day

people are treating the whole situation like i posted pictures of him from when he was a kid or leaked patreon content or drew him fully naked or anything else that, you know, would actually affect him in one way or another

what im doing is innocent fun which isnt even likely to reach either of them. will wood very rarely checks tumblr and, once again, i genuinely dont believe he would care. and gerard way aint got no internet + he doesnt care x 2

it is weird but rn this is what brings me the most joy, even if its silly to say. both will wood and gerard way mean a lot to me and putting them in situations together makes me happy. i am but a child full of fun whimsy

i wont be posting any more explicitly romantic art to avoid more drama, and i also wont be responding to all the anon messages i received because there are like .. too many of them. an overwhelming amount i'd say. sorry about that

i really didnt mean to cause such a fuss, and i understand why some people might be uncomfortable with what i do

i fully understand why you would dislike my waywood hyperfixation shenanigans, and i dont have a problem w you over that, but treating me like pure evil because of a thing so insignificant is just.. overdoing it

once again, i will be toning it down, but it really isnt the end of the world if i dare to draw will wood and gerard way being a tad bit gay (which is, i apparently need to mention, not me actually saying that will wood the alternative musician is a homosexual gay who is in a genuine for real actual real gay homosexual relationship with gerard fucking way the lead singer of my chemical romance. i think speculating on other people's sexuality and gender identity is boooo tomato tomato tomato)

sorry for the rant and sorry to all who were disappointed by my lack of remorse. come back in a couple years when i turn 18 and stop having fun and artistic freedom

thank you for your attention and i hope i at least cleared some things up to those who werent w me throughout every event where i get involved in fandom drama

bye bye

[fight-nights-at-freddys]

hey there! Feel free to block me if you want, especially if you find this rude or anything. This is actually genuine, i’m NOT being sarcastic or anti.

i’m on the fence about proshipping. On the one hand, don’t like it? Don’t read it. I’ve read some crazy fanfiction that teeters on the line, but that’s not the point. On the other hand, it gets to a point where…you’re just normalizing r@pe or inc3st in fiction. And people say it’s just fiction, but fiction can definitely influence reality! But writing shouldn’t be censored. People should be free to write what they want, however they want. It’s art and should be treated with the same diligence. However, the when, where and how proshipping fanfics are presented SHOULD MATTER. It’s not censorship to require warning tags, or restrict it from young readers more severely.

okay, that’s my little rant lol. Again, i’m not gonna think you hate me if you block me and never answer this ask. Just wanted to get some other points of view and share my own.

dwdw. and thank you for being so respectful and nice abt it <3 anti or not, its always appreciated/gen

and i (personally) have some views that are probably pretty controversial LMAO. Which is pretty much, if something is normalized in fiction and it doesn’t breach over into real life, we’re okay.

say for instance, murder is common in fiction, it has been justified, shown as good, etc etc. practically doesn’t get portrayed or seen as bad. yet irl if someone goes out there and kills a random family, ppl aren’t going to go “oh yeah, thats normal” they’re going to be upset and appalled for what that persons done.

same thing with incest and rape, theres been a lot of fanfics over the years that have those two things, yet both are absolutely abhorrent in real life bc they hurt people, and no amount of normalizing it in fiction will normalize it irl.

And we can even get into old examples like with Greek Mythology where rape and the incest were seen as normal(-ish) in the stories, and still, people think that those things are horrible in real life, so fiction didn’t affect reality there. So, why would it change with like, idk, a wincest or willmike fics.

yes writing can influence reality, but only if you let it. Do research, look at studies, don’t rely on words that a random person made up to tell a story, because then, you are at fault, not the creator or the work. (You spoken generally here, not at you anon)

If you live your life and base your knowledge only on fiction and nothing more, then yeah, your reality is going to be skewed, but again, thats not the fictions fault. - 🧁🍕

ofcofc! so, just to clear up any confusion, being proship JUST means being anti-harassment, and pro-ship and let ship. you don't gotta like what other people ship, you just gotta respect them enough to be able to block and move on.

i def agree, tags should be applied correctly, and mature content should be age restricted, but there's a limit to that imo. like, i wouldn't agree with sites making you show your ID or anything, due to the invasion of privacy, when a lot of the issue of kids being in spaces they shouldn't be could be solved by better parenting.

i also don't agree that certain kinds of fiction "normalize" rape or incest. fiction CAN influence reality, sure, but it's never gonna make you go from "incest bad" to "incest good" just from watching, like. game of thrones, ya know? there would 100% have to be a problem with the individual to begin with to even reach those kinda conclusions (and that's largely a problem with lack of parenting, education, or mental health resources)

my point is, if someone reads a yucky darkfic, and rape/murder/incest/whatever is depicted as good, it is still on you as the viewer as to how you react to it.

again, it's totally fine to think those kinds of fics/ships are disgusting! you're allowed to feel your feelings! but to assume that everyone who reads those fics has even the potential to be bad people just because they read those things is, like. objectively the wrong way to go about things

#/nm ofc - 🏁🎸

[so0ju]

Now i think all of this is a bad idea-

Like-

I don’t usually share my drawings online, i just keep them to myself and then if i want to i show them to friends i think would like them? Haha

I really don’t know what im doing, someone just recommended me to use this app to show my drawings.

So im gonna just use this as a little diary for myself. And if someone happens to see it. Well. Weird for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I love this one so much because is so weird without context. He’s supposed to be staring at the weird cat version Alastor.

+ That little Vox was made by the same person that wrote Poosei in the first Lucifer drawing (she (E)said she loved that tik tok audio).

[Does writing so much makes this less interesting?- idk (equis somos chavos)]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[HAHAHAHA I LOVE HOW I STRUGGLE SO MUCH TRYING TO FIND OUT HOW TO USE THIS APP. I JUST LITERALLY COULDN’T ERASE A QUESTION SECTION, I HAD TO GOOGLE IT.

OMG I CAN CHANGE THE TEXT COLOR??? THATS SO CUTE! Rainbow]

I really think i messed up when i did the line art on this one, i loved it so much when it was just a pencil sketch.

Besides that- i got inspired on this one when a friend (IV) told me: “How do you think Lucifer would react if he found those… questionable edits of him?”. Then i draw that. REALLY. I can just imagine him saying something like: “if this is earth hell is doomed”. HAHA

[I CAN MAKE MINI LETTERS WHAAAAAT I LOVE IT i can also do the negritas <- and whatever this is.

Okay just so you know I’ve been learning all of this while writing.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay interrupting my own diary (im literally writing this while im at school srry)- but how can THIS:

Is supposed to be a 5 in a circle??? 🙏

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I think i have to make clear who is my every friend I mention.

We’ll call E the friend who Wrote the thing on Lucifer drawing and drew the mini Vox saying the… m… okay. And and IV the friend who drew this masterpiece:

Yes. For context, he’s about to be crushed by his fan girls. HAHAi love this one so much! + i wrote the lyrics on the top.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I swear this is the last one. I didn’t liked so much this one but I can’t tell what’s the thing i don’t like. Well, the idea came from a tik tok audio i like sooooooooooooooooooooo much. Its literally my favorite audio.

An I thought: meh. It fits on these two. And it’s NOT RadioApple. I respect people’s opinions but i don’t really like that ship. I mean, if you like it, its okay, i just don’t like it.

And well, its the end. Bye! 🤍

[wingedwoif94]

I don't want to keep posting about drama but I still get DMs and asks about this stuff weekly on Twitter. Even though half the callout accounts have disappeared. Idk how it keeps spreading. • I am not a zoophile. Thats sick and disgusting. People claim that I am because I “defend” furry nsfw art created by consenting human adults. I do not believe that nsfw furry art is zoophilia.  •  I am not a pedo. My character Acid is NOT a minor. She is MY AGE. 28. She ages with me. The old ref that says she is 17 was made over a decade ago!!! I uploaded it to Toyhouse in 2021 because I wanted to compile all the artwork I made of her over the years. I do not have proof of this because I don't keep WIPS for 10+ years. It has since been deleted and I apologized.  • I don't know what “pro ship” means. Nobody has given me a clear definition yet. I do not care about fandom shipping. I don't write fanfiction.  • I am not friends with peacewolf. I have never spoken to them in my life. The only association I can think of is that we both used Flipnote as an art program like 10 years ago. Same with any other Flipnote creators.  • I do not have a problem with DID systems at all. Someone made a literal duplicate of my account on TikTok (and Amino apparently) and claimed that I was ablest against “multiple personality disorder” for telling them not to impersonate me. They were a troll, they didn't even use the right terminology. Their account got banned immediately and I didn't have time to get screenshots of what they were actually doing. I also apologized for tweeting about it without context. 

[spro-o]

Heey i have question that has been on my mind for some time now, this question is more what I heard not really my own opinion. But anyways is lancelot x tristan/ban x meliodas even good ship? I seen some many talk about how theos two ships are baf because for Lancelot and Tristan they have no real relationship in canon or what so ever. Coming to ban x meliodas they more like best friends. Is that true?🤔 I very cousfed if it rignt to ship or not.

hello!! okay im gonna ramble a bit cuz i love yapping about this kinda stuff and dont wanna clog up any feeds, so ill add a 'read further' here :3

i feel like its not very surprising that i do think both ships are good (especially melban). i think that for both of them- yes, they can definitely be read as just being friendships and nothing more than that, but i guess the charm of shipping and headcanons is that you can add in your own interpretations and additions which you think feel right :3

a lot of the interactions between mel and ban, for example, i read as being pretty homoerotic/gay. thats mostly because, as a gay/queer guy myself, i find myself relating a lot to the stuff they do together when comparing it to me and my bf, and also because they are my favourite characters and headcanoning them as being the same sexuality (and gender) that i am is like a little golden sticker saying "fav character" (godbless projection onto your blorbos).

in general, i think its pretty common consensus, at least in my circles, that ships dont have to stick 100% to what the canon says/shows, and you can always add in your own ideas or headcanons to create a relationship either between your favourite characters, or one which you think would be interesting to see, or just one which you think would provide a fun/interesting addition to the story. and in my case, its all of those - i really just adore the dynamic meliodas and ban have, and in addition to my gay reading of a lot of their interactions with one another, it just feels right and fun to ship them (this applies to lancetris as well, but to a slightly lesser extent/not exactly the same)

so yeah, thats my stance on it!! i really like lancetris and adore melban, and i think (considering how much reconning has happened on the fandom's part towards nakaba's,,,, decisions,,,,) it doesnt do harm to read certain friendships as having romantic or sexual under- or overtones

i also feel like i should mention that i only really ship lancetris and melban in separate circumstances, if that makes sense - like, i ship melban a lot harder than lancetris, so whenever i do make any ship art of them (lancetris), i think of meliodas' and ban's relationship like more of a qpr than a fully romantic one, just cuz i feel like it makes it better??? more likely??? less weird?? idk if im making much sense here, but yeah, so thats sm (i guess i also just wanted to state that to clear anything up, cuz i do know how having ship art of both lancetris and melban could come off as kinda weird to some, but idk, maybe im overthinking it (￣▽￣)")

[salora-rainriver]

the lily orchard thing is weird because the primary callout for her that i've seen comes from a youtube channel with absolutely no sense of proportion, putting "wrote a shock fic years ago" and "featured as a character in feral furry porn" right next to "actually groomed minors" as though these are all equally bad and worthy of scorn. it makes me realize that even when we're right that someone is a bad person, we can still fall into transphobic ways of framing it

Okay full disclosure: i don’t know what youtube vid you’re talking about. I did watch A Videos on Orchard.

So first off I get the point about proportionality, theres absolutely a difference between writing stockholm and that whole stint where she encouraged a teen and an adult to “breed”, and I do agree that any callout should make the difference in severity clear,

But im not sure that, in this case, someone failing to make that distinction clear is A Transphobia. And that’s because… I’m not convinced Stockholm was intended to be a shock fic. I can definitely see where one may draw such a conclusion, I just personally feel otherwise, I feel like Stockholm is itself morally wrong. I feel the same way about it that I feel about “lolicon” art, and asking me to not mark the fic as a slight against Orchard feels odd to me, because I would be uncomfortable with Butch Hartman writing material like that. I would want to know that he wrote this, feels no remorse for writing it, intends to make media for children while having written that.

People draw their personal lines in the sand in different places, particularly when it comes to fictional depictions of That Shit. Someone’s Lolita (a harsh and uncomfortable work thats clearly not glorifying the act once you sit down and engage with it fairly) is going to be another’s [idk insert literal fucking CP here], and the wide diversity of art makes it nigh-impossible to be able to draw a line between Acceptable and Unacceptable.

And for what it’s worth, the above ^^^ is why Im frustrated with the binary framing of the pro-ship and anti-ship discourse. It just doesn’t work, even the most ardently pro-ship person is going to draw their line somewhere, and even the most ardently anti-ship is going to look at someone else’s judgement and go “but theres nothing wrong with this”. And ultimately, the two camps of pro and anti… don’t actually exist. Ask me honestly which camp I fall in and I genuinely wouldn’t be able to tell you, and if you interrogate your personal moral values and feelings about various dubious media honestly, you’ll realize that you can’t, either.

Sorry. This is a ramble. I’ll summarize:

- I think it’s important to know that Orchard wrote Stockholm, and to allow people to judge her for writing that, because many believe that works like these are morally wrong, period end of, and it’s not transmisogyny for one to judge this fic the same way they judge similar works from cishet writers.

- despite having that opinion, I do agree that the real grooming is much worse than the fic, and agree that making this distinction clear is important.

- I also think its dangerous to discuss the morality of fictional media from an all-or nothing binary framing, because the truth is we do not genuinely hold such extreme positions in real life, we all have a limit somewhere on the spectrum in either direction, which is my main frustration with pro-ship and anti-ship discourse, because you can never fully belong to either camp. Your position on the issue will be a mix of both. Pro some ships, anti other ships.

I hope thats clear? Thanks for the thoughtful ask. Also, mandatory “pls be gentle I’m the birthday girl”

[dostarve]

This is a pinned post (?!)

Okay I have felt like I need a pinned post on my page so I can explain a little bit about me and what I post, also some dni stuff too. Also a obnoxiously huge list of my interests, I’m sorry.

Interests: Star Wars (Including the animated shows like The Clone Wars), Until Dawn, The Quarry, Dark Pictures Anthology, Minecraft Story mode, Detroit Become Human, Don’t Starve Together, Pokemon, Sonic, The Sims 2, Any Papa Louie game, Madoka Magica, The Walking Dead Games by Telltale (I have only gotten through Season one and Season Two, so no major spoilers please), The Walking Dead (The show!! I have finished the main show and am watching The Ones Who Live!), My Hero Academia (I am obsessed with class 1-b and Monoma, weird and toxic fans dni please), The Backyard Sports games, Hermit Craft, and the Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children book series (right now I am on book four!)

About me: You can call me Mal or Dip if you like! I use she/her pronouns and I am bisexual. I also have ADD. I also want to make it clear that I am a MINOR!! Sometimes I post super long text posts on media I like (such as Don’t Starve) and sometimes (by sometimes I mean barely) I post art that I make. My account is mainly reblog heavy right now, I don’t have a lot of motivation to post and I don’t have a lot of free time either. Also this currently my only blog! But if I make a side blog I might add its @ on here. Idk

Dni: Racists, Homophobes, Transphobes, Proshippers, and all the other spiel of the typical dni stuff. Also, to all my Star Wars fans out there, if you ship clonecest get off my page.

My Page: Most of my posts are tagged under “Dostarve speaks” while my fandom related stuff is tagged as followed; Don’t Starve related posts are “I talk about dst” Star Wars text posts are under “Star wars talk” And my drawings are under “Dostarve Doodles” I am just letting anybody who wants to look at something specific know for easy searching :)

Header Image & PFP credits: Neither of these are my art!! My header image is concept art for Pokemon Brilliant Diamond and Shining Pearl, and my pfp is art from one of the Pokemon Quiz books! Specifically one of the Black and White ones.

Please feel free to tell me how to improve this little info textpost thing!! (How to make it easier on the eye and more visually appealing.) I will add more stuff to it later on, this is sorta a “rough draft” of it, I guess. Also please understand if I dont respond to messages and asks quickly, I don’t have notifications on for tumblr. Thats it for now, love you moots!! :)

[cosmosayz]

ii au rambling ??

I dont have much art to offer lately beyond the stuff i mass dumped on here bc im burnt out when it comes to drawing but i do have plenty of aus im writing stuff for over on ao3 & i havent written much for this one but i wanna yap abt my animal office au bc its silly.

so like theyre furries right. Its a lot of fun thinking abt what animal each character would be n such & even tho not a lot of the cast r important w/ this story bc its mephone4 & mephoj centered i still give it a good amount of thought bc its also just silly to make characters into animals.

fav thing is turning mephone into a racoon bc i cant see him as anything else [other than possibly a badger, but racoon just makes perfect sense to me considering he's. him] & 4s is just. a cat. theyre brothers in this au still, just different animal species [theyre still robots / androids created by cobs, who's a wolf. listen, it makes so much sense to me i have such a clear vision even if something else would probably fit him better i think it works so well for him].

Its just so fun researching animal stuff too & learning behavior stuff to keep track of for each animal & how that would influence how each character were to act in the scenarios ill be putting them in, in this fic once i get around to writing it. [ill be working on it full time once im done w/ my current fic & brainrot au; the neighbor next door (very creatively labled the neighbor au super groundbreaking i know)]

but anyways idk i wanna post on here more & rambles seem like theyd be a good outlet for that even if ppl dont rlly care much. its just fun.

[also for anyone who's read this far & doesn't know me my ao3 is Cosmo_Writes, & if you're interested in MePhone centered writing / or the ship mephoj then my works might be worth checking out bc thats like 90% of what i like to write :]

[violet-moonstone]

got lost in a daydream today about my httyd oc (who im thinking of naming Amani? I have a list of names I typically go with for self insert characters in fantasy and that's one of them. let's go with that for now)

anyway i really wanted to write down the full scene but i lacked the energy so now i just have a vague recollection of it. i could turn these scenes into a multichapter fic but honestly idc how interested people are in reading a story thats essentially a self ship with dagur and sometimes hiccup

the scene takes place in the midpoint of the story, where dagur has just gotten himself locked up in outcast prison and the council on berserker island has just found out. amani (his wife) is freaking out because they dont have any heirs (yet - shes believes she's pregnant but pretty much no one knows yet) and she has a growing suspicion that some of the more powerful berserkers are going to try to get rid of her so that they can rule.

more below the cut that gets increasingly stream of consciousness

during the meeting she's trying her best to make herself look like a strong candidate without just outright making it clear that she knows most of them arent behind her. she announces the pregnancy and dispels any worries about how sure it is that the baby will make it to adulthood.

one particularly unpleasant member of the council makes a comment about barbaric archipelago winters being harsh - perhaps it is easy to survive in whatever sunny part of the world she's from, but in the north, babes must be hearty and strong to survive past infancy and childhood.

she demands if he's questioning the strength of dagur and oswalds bloodline and that makes him back down to a certain extent - but the reality she has to face is that dagur's gone and she really has no guarantee that the pregnancy will go well. and even if it does, just one heir with a mother most view as an outsider is still shaky ground

when council members question who will lead in dagurs absense, she says the council will lead until the situation with dagur is figured out - she has a plan to petition alvin about his imprisonment, but this is shot down because "berserkers dont ask for things - they take what they want" - this of course coming from someone she suspects has no real interest in dagur's freedom. if they were loyal to him, they might form a rescue team or even declare war - but she doubts that that will happen.

as the meeting goes on she can feel herself losing a good portion of the room. she also feels increasingly sick and she cant tell if its from worry or the pregnancy.

finally when the meetings finished she goes back to her house. and theennn there are some details i dont have figured out - theres an attempt on her life thats interrupted by a loyal guard or council member who then helps her find safe passage to an island somewhere further away (but still in or near the archipelago? idk. she doesnt go back to her homeland...perhaps because she doesnt want to risk travelling long distances and especially not while pregnant...but also...i kinda want her to be relatively nearby for the story)

uhh yeah i need a name for this story. realistically i wont have time to type it out in prose any time soon but i might make summaries of the most important moments and post those. maybe with some art? idk. i just really really like it

[iheartsyaosaku]

Clear card pros and cons (that i can remember i need to reread it again)

Pros:

SYAOSAKU DATING ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

idk more content around our fave characters (though not as much but take it as you will)

The wierd ass technology update all of a sudden everyone has iphones (minus syaoran)

It picked up from the og ending where syaoran comes back from hong kong

SYAOSAKU DATING 🥹🥹🥹

SYAOSAKU WENT ON A DATE ‼️‼️

Unlocked sakura new swag (at the cost of ending her cardcaptor retirement…)

(Anime only) english dub actors of trc syaosaku voice ccscc syaosaku i thought that was pretty cool (syaoran sounds like maybe he went through puberty a little too early but thats okay)

(Anime only) SYAORAN SPEAKS FRENCH IN THE ENGLISH DUB

cute art style

Maybe just me but sometimes i get a little emotional seeing sakura in her daily life in middle school because its like !! Wow i remember when you were in 4th grade and now you’re in 7th grade im so proud of you sakura 🥹

Momo (new mascot to make marketable plushie off of)

(Anime only) MEILING COMEBACK ‼️

THE SYAOSAKU SONG HOSHI NO TEGAMI 😭😭😭😭😭 BEST SONG EVERRRR WTF SYAORANS SINGING VOICE IS SO!:?:)/$/? THEYRE SUCH A GOOD DUET

SYAOSAKU DATING. Btw. Theyre a couple. Theyre dating and theyre in love.

Cons:

KAITO.

New characters who happen to be mediocre

Akiho is literally just a carbon copy of sakura who is just sad (they refused to touch on the different aspects of her like reading books, singing and from kong kong only very rarely)

Kaito fucking sucks literally worst ccs of all time and THATS A LOT saying theres literal PEDOS in the fucking show but theyre all background characters but they can also piss off

Tbf i got confused along the way

Too many plot holes

Syaosaku angst

Syaosaku couldnt touch for a while 😔

Anyway why did yelan do that (referring to point above)

Some shit does not make sense

Tsubasa/xxxholic references (this is for you oomf)

Syaoran???? Is part of the “im keeping things from sakura” gang???? And it sucks so bad (yes it got resolved in the later half BUT IT STILL SUCKED)

TOO MANY THINGS KEPT FROM SAKURA JUST TELL HER DAMN

pushes most characters from the og manga aside to focus on akiho and that man 🙄🙄🙄

Clamp forces us to care about them but in reality we really do not gaf

(In reference to point above) Clamp sees that and pushes the nostalgia tactics/references sometimes and its lowkey tiring

The part where the syao/saku/tomo were reminiscing that fuck ass teacher made me ill i genuinely wanted to kms

Still hasnt gotten rid of their p*do ass shit thanks clamp very cool (sarcasm)

Did i mention that the og characters were pushed back? Because they really were

Akiho felt more of the main character of this story instead of sakura

Tbh not much happened in the entirety of this manga ESPECIALLY considering time shenanigans

Im still mad that syaoran hid stuff from sakura tbh

HOW CAN I FORGET THE UGLY ASS “YUNAAKI IS SIMILAR TO SYAOSAKU” PARALLELS AND HOW BADLY IT PISSES ME OFF

syaosaku dont look but theres an ugly bitch trying to be like you (yunaaki)

Yunaaki becoming borderline canon despite it being a toxic and p*dophilic ship

Kaito still exists in this fucking story and got a somewhat happy ending (befriending syaoran dont piss me the fuck off)

COMPARING KAITO TO SYAORAN KYS @ CLAMP

Kero/tomoyo/yue/nakuru/spinnel basically everyone magically involved is pushed back basically useless until the final act (i think i mentioned the character pushback before)

Still major plotholes

Yamazaki tells the truth now

Touya got whitewashed

Akiho still has too many similarities to sakura it still pisses me off. Why cant they make her her own character

My girl sakura developed anxiety

MY BOY SYAORAN DEVELOPED DEPRESSION

angsty ass middle schoolers

Didnt like the scene where sakuras grandad was basically throwing shade at syaoran comparing his romance with sakura to … sakura’s fuckass dad grooming her mom. What

Syaoran calmed down a bit i miss when he was chaotic af but whatever #middleschoolerthings

Season 2 is taking forever to release good lord

[crypt1dcorv1dae]

Y'all I like height difference ships as much as anyone (maybe more, who knows) but I would rlly love if y'all didn't draw em looking like a full grown ass adult and a literal twelve year old when they're the same fucking age

(also drawing like one inches height difference as if one is a full head taller...)

[lynvaren]

I wanted to ask you about your take on 'shipping' gon and killua like romantically? your drawings are ambiguous enough (idk if thats the right word) but I was wondering whether you see them that way and what you think of the discourse of it's 'gross' or 'disgusting to ship 2 kids'. Thanks and I hope this doesn't come off the wrong way. Your art is awesome and always makes me happy (*＾v＾*)/

Hey! Ty for the question! This is like the longest running discourse huh... I'll do my best to share my perspective! Putting some of it under a cut because I accidentally wrote too much ^^;

I do see the ickiness of the phrase 'shipping two kids' when you put it like that, but I think that's because the word 'shipping' has this... umbrella connotation of like. HEAVY romance with adult and often sexual implications attached to it. Which is a huge red flag when u think abt kids that way?? and obviously you shouldn't??? and there’ll always be some nasty fans who do, but I think a lot of us see them the way we see most ships in kids' shows.

Because BECAUSE the thing is, we see romance all the time in children's media. Kids have crushes. Kids get into stupid relationships at 13 where all they do is peck each other on the lips awkwardly and pass notes to each other in class and hang out on ‘dates’ at each other's houses to watch TV. And it's totally normal! So when people say 'ew shut up gon and killua are only friends, stop thinking abt them like that, they're children' you have to wonder where that's coming from. Bc would they be saying the same thing about a boy and a girl of the same age?

To bring up specific examples: think about aang from atla (is a 12 yo with an enormous crush for a majority of the series, and gets together with her in the end) and sam and danny from danny phantom (are 14 yo), and these are shows with like. An actual on-screen KISS at the end. Nobody bats an eye at that, and not to be dramatic but the double standards are showing. It's implying that 'queerness' is what's vile and adult but like. Queer adults were once queer children, right? Gon and killua are 12 at the beginning, and nearing 14 at the end, so the discourse of 😡don’t ship 2 kids!🤬 stops being valid when you think about it in a larger perspective, in relation to similar media. Like sure, you’re welcome to see them in a strictly platonic way, but if the ONLY REASON ur not ok with a wholly harmless, innocent romance is because they’re children, and harass other fans abt it, then to me it sounds like a load of bull to cover up ur homophobia.

(also whenever I say ‘you’ i mean an abstract third person, not YOU you anon, if that’s not clear hjghfdgs 💖)

As for hxh specifically, my take is that the subtext is deliberate. Togashi would have to be pretty ignorant of his own writing if it weren’t; killua is so heavily coded as developing a very romantic, very boyfriend crush on gon and considering togashi’s history with queer rep it wouldn’t be far-fetched for anyone to call it intentional. And who are any of us to take that away from queer fans who see themselves in these characters? 

And as for me, using the word ‘ship’ makes me feel weird (which is totally a silly personal thing) but I think my feelings on killugon can be summed up by this exchange—

—which is a very underrated moment imo and explains killua’s feelings perfectly. They go from talking about dates to killua thinking to himself that he’d rather just stay with gon forever, and like... to me that’s IT. He doesn’t care about dating or romance when he can just be with gon. No dating experience with anyone else will be AS MEANINGFUL TO HIM as being with gon. Tell me if that isn’t the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. 

So it’s my personal opinion that, all things considered, what gon and killua have transcends any platonic or romantic connotation; it’s more like a ‘you’re IT for me’ in whatever way you choose to see it. Do I think killua has a big fat crush on gon?? yeah. Do I think anyone seeing their friendship as ONLY a friendship is valid? also yeah. 

The only thing is that justifying them being strictly bff bros because 'they can’t be more bc they’re children ew’ isn’t gonna fly. Bc if you take it to mean anything more than an innocent depiction of young love then you're the one making it weird. As long as we’re not sick in imagining gross things then what’s wrong in just wanting them to hold hands?