#ryes-up

[isaacbookclub]

Huge thanks to my friend who attended the Alice Oseman Pop Up Shop this weekend for their photo of Alice’s reasons for each recommendation

THE CATCHER IN THE RYE BY JD SALINGER

This was one of the books that made me want to write SOLITAIRE. Essential reading for any fans of snarky narrators.

SUMMER BIRD BLUE BY AKEMI DAWN BOWMAN

It's hard to find aromantic/asexual representation infiction, but this is one of my favourites.

CONVENIENCE STORE WOMAN BY SAYAKA MURATA, TRANSLATED BY GINNY TAPLEY TAKEMORI

One of my favourite novels of the past few years, perfect for SOLITAIRE and LOVELESS fans. A story about one woman's alienation with modern society.

THE BLACK FLAMINGO BY DEAN ATTA

A beautiful and hopeful story about a teenage drag queen, written in verse.

HERE THE WHOLE TIME BY VITOR MARTINS

An adorable queer teen romance. HEARTSTOPPER fans will love this.

HOMEBODY BY THEO PARISH

This trans coming out story is so uplifting and affirming.

LAURA DEAN KEEPS BREAKING UP WITH ME BY MARIKO TAMAKI

I loved the complexity of the toxic relationship at the heart of this stunningly illustrated graphic novel.

IT'S LONELY AT THE CENTRE OF THE EARTH BY ZOE THOROGOOD

This graphic novel features a hard-hitting and honest portrayal of depression. A great choice for those who are drawn to the mental health themes in my works.

[scarlethood]

i think the popular fanon that dick and jason had a horrible awful relationship when jason was robin comes from them actually having an exceedingly normal "boring" relationship (except for the way it intertwined with both of the relationships with bruce which are very not normal)

like sorry but theyre living the life of siblings who have a large age gap where one is out of state attending college (partially true) with the added caveat of being adoptive siblings who haven't met before (mostly true)

when dick finds out about jason sure he blows up at bruce (complicated relationship) but he gives jason his original robin costume and says we're brothers call if you need me (very normal and not complicated relationship)

there's no more idolization and hero worship than a younger brother who thinks his older brother is just as cool as he is lame and there's no more extension and recognition of the self in you my mini me than an older brother who understands dad kinda sucks sometimes

sorry not sorry i find such a mundane relationship in a world where the stakes are always life and death where the relationships are always heart and gut wrenching allegories where connections range from soulmates to mortal enemies with little in between to be interesting as is

[animusrox]

First Half of 2023: 8 indie films worth checking out

[mangostarjam]

breakfast options — haikyuu, miya osamu x f!reader, neighbors au, set a little before the timeskip, just some soft fluffy fluff, 1.4k words

Miya Osamu wakes up to the early dawn light knowing two things.

One: That was the best sleep he's had in months.

Two: This is not his bed.

The sheets are softer — the bed is narrower and pushed up against a wall — and it smells like fresh laundry detergent when Osamu knows for a fact that he hasn't lugged his laundry to the machines downstairs in weeks.

This is not his bed. This isn't even his room or his apartment. The biggest, most obvious clue nuzzles into his chest and sighs.

Osamu's arm tightens around you automatically.

He's so fucked.

Your bare legs are pressed up against his own and you're so soft and warm and relaxed, breathing deeply in sleep, utterly unconcerned about the fact that your neighbor somehow got into your apartment and into your bed with you. Osamu can feel the barest sliver of skin beneath his fingers as your shirt rises and wonders how much his ma will yell at him for messing up this badly with you.

"Mm… 'Samu…?"

He's so fucked.

"Yeah?"

"Why're you awake?"

Osamu can't help the fond huff that escapes his lips and you bury your face further into his chest. He wonders if you can feel the taiko drum beat of his heart in your dreams.

You sniff and your fingers curl into his shirt. "Now I'm awake," you complain quietly, voice muffled in his chest. "Did you need to go to work or something? You seemed so tired last night. Sleep a lil' longer."

"Hey… did I… did I get the wrong door? Last night?" His voice is scratchy, but you don't seem to mind. You shiver a little in his hold and he automatically tugs you closer.

"Hmm…?" It takes a moment as you think through the sleep fog of your mind. Osamu can hear the distant click of your refrigerator humming and the chirp of birds waking up outside.

"You used your spare key and scared the heck out of me," you mumble, shoulders shaking as you snicker at the memory. Osamu wishes he could see your face — well, maybe not. His own cheeks are burning with mortification. "You were like a zombie, Miya-kun."

Something in his stomach swoops with disappointment at the return of honorifics. But — you still haven't untangled yourself from him, and you seem perfectly content to lay here with his arms around you, so maybe — ?

"Sorry 'bout that," he murmurs. "I musta been more wiped than I thought."

"You need to take care of yourself," you scold lightly, finally peeking up at his face. Your eyes widen when they meet his, and for some strange reason you immediately reach up to cover your mouth. Osamu's stomach clenches with hurt. It's not like he was planning on kissing you right now — not after practically breaking into your apartment and commandeering your bed.

And especially not if you don't want him to. Not if you're hiding from him like this.

"Sorry," you mumble. Your gaze feels intentional. Osamu wonders vaguely if he has drool on his cheek. "I don't want you to smell my morning breath."

It's silent for a moment. The two of you breathe in unison as Osamu stares down at you, incredulous, until you break the connection and bury your face in his chest again. "Oy."

"I'm going back to sleep."

That makes him laugh. His body jostles yours and you twist around defensively, nearly dislodging his hold as he clamps his arm back around your waist. "Miya-kun," you mumble. He can hear the pout in your voice, even if he can't see it. "Let's go back to sleep."

"There's no way I'm fallin' back asleep like this," Osamu says.

"What's wrong?"

Nothing's wrong. This is everything he's wanted with you for the past few years, ever since he first saw you go wide eyed over the neighborly bento he held out to you, the delight in your huge grin only growing when you looked up and met his eye.

It's been days and months and years since then, time filled with fond teasing over textbooks, quiet secrets whispered over cups of coffee way too late at night, grocery shopping together and trying out gimmicky snacks that stained your lips blue. You're his neighbor, his friend, his staunch supporter.

His classmate, a few times, when your schedules aligned in university. His coworker, sometimes, when you volunteer yourself to help him with his stall at various events around the city.

But that's it. Or — that was it, until you started getting touchier and clingier and Osamu's hopes spiraled higher and higher.

"'Samu? Did you fall back asleep?"

Osamu presses his face into your hair. He can be weak just this once, right? It's still too early to confess — his business doesn't even have a storefront yet, he hasn't made a name for himself yet — and you deserve someone with all that and more.

"Nah," he says quietly, "I'm up."

"Don't get any ideas," you mumble sleepily. "I haven't had a man in my bed in years, so if I punch you later it's 'cause I forgot about last night."

This shouldn't make him so happy. He hides his smile in your hair. He's been so busy lately it's been hard trying to figure out if you've had anyone over, though your apartment has always only shown signs of one occupant. He didn't want to assume.

"Why didn't ya kick me out?"

"That'd be cruel and unusual," you scoff. Your fingers curl over his forearm before sliding to his hand. Osamu's breath catches for just a second as you begin playing with his fingers, seemingly oblivious to how the temperature beneath the blankets has ratcheted up several degrees.

"You can kick me out now, ya know," Osamu offers half heartedly. At least he can safely tell his ma that he tried.

You bring his hand up to your lips and his heart just about stops. Softly — so softly — you press a kiss to his palm and then his wrist, featherlight touches that have every nerve ending standing at attention. Osamu shifts his hips away guiltily, resisting the urge to press up into you, heart slamming back into rhythm at full force.

"You'd leave without having breakfast first?"

"You'd let me make ya breakfast?"

You bite the tip of his finger and he bites back a groan. "Do you always make your girls breakfast the morning after?"

Osamu frowns. He wants to see your face. "There's never been a girl or a morning after."

"Oh." You hum thoughtfully, pressing his fingertip to your lips, entirely unaware of the silent battle Osamu is waging against his own body behind you. "So I'll be the first?"

"You're the only one it's ever gonna be."

Stupid. Osamu can practically hear his twin yelling at him to just confess already.

He can feel the curve of your smile against his palm as you press another featherlight kiss there. "I'll keep waiting, then," you say quietly, voice muffled against his skin.

You shift and turn back to face him, putting a few precious inches between your bodies as you blink up at him in the slowly brightening light. Osamu can't help staring, memorizing the gentle curve of your smile and the softness in your sleepy gaze. His heart feels like it's threatening to burst out of his chest, joy expanding like bubbles in his ribcage.

"What d'ya want for breakfast?"

Your smile grows crooked.

"I want an omelet this time."

Osamu can feel his own lips tugging up in the corners. "And next time?"

"Hmm. How about a breakfast onigiri?"

A laugh escapes his lips and his grin only grows wider with your answering giggle. "I can do that for ya."

"What about a kiss?"

Your eyes are sparkling in the light and he — he wants to say "yes" — but then your expression falls and you hold up a hand suddenly. "Wait, I take that back," you explain quickly, "I need to brush my teeth first."

Osamu laughs. He tugs you closer, an arm heavy around your waist, anchoring you back into him even as you whine. "You're gonna hafta get used to this," he points out smugly.

You slap your hands over your mouth and glare halfheartedly at him. "No way."

"It's alright, darlin'," he says. You blink as his gaze steadies on yours. Osamu wonders if you have any idea that you look at him like this — like he's special, and deserving, and like you trust him with everything. He's tried for months now to pretend he doesn't see it, scared to get his hopes up too high, but now?

Now he hopes you'll always look at him like this. "I won't make you wait much longer."

[fuckyeahwomenfilmdirectors]

Top 10 of 2023

Polite Society dir. Nida Manzoor

Rye Lane dir. Raine Allen-Miller

Showing Up dir. Kelly Reichardt

Blue Jean dir. Georgia Oakley

Reality dir. Tina Satter

How to Have Sex dir. Molly Manning

Anatomy of a Fall dir. Justine Triet

Past Lives dir. Celine Song

Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret dir. Kelly Fremon Craig

A Thousand and One dir. A.V. Rockwell

Honourable Mentions:

Fair Play dir. Chloe Dumont, Priscilla dir. Sofia Coppola, The Pod Generation dir. Sophie Barthes, You Hurt My Feelings dir. Nicole Holofcener, Bottoms dir. Emma Seligman

[vaguely-concerned]

lucanis truly has a near terminal case of burned out golden child syndrome. caterina fucked both of these kids over so incredibly bad with the dynamic she enforced there, with illario being labled the perpetual fuckup kid where lucanis 'could do no (would never be allowed to do) wrong'. the way he admits in the first coffee date scene that the only thing that happened when he showed he could carry the weight of expectation was that more weight was added makes me so sad. you can hear it in caterina's voice in his intro mission that she's incredibly proud of him, but this is clearly a leandra and hawke situation where that pride never translates into relief or resolution or unconditional warmth or understanding or anything that really helps.

[ryebreadedd]

okayyy guys i know i havent posted wof in years nor do i plan to ever post much of it again cuz its just not one of my main interests anymore but i made a peril design.

she burns white hot and illuminates the room like a star. due to heat distribution her face, talons and tail are less bright/darker like a color point cat

[feelneurotic]

do you think, when kota and kenny are back and healthy to compete together, that aew is still gonna skirt around calling them the “golden lovers” or do you think they’ll actually suck it up and say it for once and not have to depend on someone on commentary saying it offhandedly?

bc idk if i can stomach another moment of them not even bothering to say it and then going out of their way to say shit like “golden jets” when kota ibushi is literally THE GOLDEN ASPECT of the golden lovers or golden elite teams. there was like zero reason for them to not even outwardly mention the golden lovers tag team. nigel did it like once on commentary (thank u, king).

[maryhanaae4]

broken record

[gangles-toybox]

Ford, reading the Catcher in the Rye in highschool: *reads it like a good student but doesn't really understand why people like it as much as they do at the time, Holden is hard to relate to for him probs* [he would understand him more as he grew up]

Stanley, actually reading a The Catcher in the Rye and not cheating off of Ford for once: HE LIKE ME! HE JUST LIKE ME FR!!!!

[akascow]

unpopular opinion (i think) i fucking hate miss piggy

[rileys-battlecats]

drawing kittens is so much fun. they're so stubby

[scarlethood]

there needs to be more guy gardner & jason todd stuff cause say what you want about either of these characters but i think a liscenced child psychologist who worked in special education after a childhood of being demeaned and abused by his family and ending up in juvie himself could maybe reach out to and help a traumatized young adult who is still being demeaned and abused by his family figure out better coping mechanisms than kidnapping and violence

[vaguely-concerned]

fucking crying real tears of laughter at the idea of lucanis letting out a sigh of relief at finally leaving the endless wind-whipped halls of the grand necropolis behind only to find that rook has brought the cursed giant skeleton statues back home with them. and turning to look directly into the camera as only a man who has slept six hours altogether in the last week and is animated only by coffee and spite at this point could. the nevarran lighthouse decor my beloved.

[ryebreadedd]

doodle of sig and his weird cat

[ryescapades]

me when i’m writing

writing smut rn send help idk what i’m doing