#so many years are ahead!!!

[twiddlestix]

i'm nosy. are you surprised by 68 because you thought toriyama was older or younger? or for some other reason?

So sorry for the late response I genuinely did not see this!!!

I was surprised by how young he was!!! My father is 61!! And I dont think of him as old. Old enough to die for whatever reason yknow? 60 is sooo young to me.

I think also.... dbz has felt like it's been around forever and its notorious in every way, so I pictured its successful creator being way older. bc no way was he was 34/35 when the anime came out! that's insane!!! You can't be cool and successful until your old and grey! But that's my "I'm in my 20s and why are there 20 year olds with successful careers already" disease talking.

[evercelle]

hold that heart close... happy birthday, wanderer!!

[pankomako]

if this post gets 2000 notes i'll finally call failboat. yes i have his phone number he gave it to me. pic unrelated

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Danse Macabre

[Commission]

[solarisfortuneia]

— 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬.

and the smell of camphor dancing in the wind.

✦ info: he didn't know he'd lose you so soon. (come back, please. even if it is just for five more minutes.)

✦ featuring: alhaitham.

✦ warnings: angst, character death (reader), heartache, 1.2k words, somewhat proof-read.

✦ notes: i cried so goddamn hard writing this. why is my first work after hiatus pain. why did i pick up the angst wip. but!! i'm writing again, so that's good. (more notes at the end.)

he didn’t know that it was your last day together. 

he didn’t know that the smile you gave him that afternoon, your eyes sparkling like sunlight upon the serene waves of the ocean, would be the last he’d ever see. that the playful light in your gaze would fade so very soon, slipping through his fingers like sand.

he didn’t know that last night would be the last time he held you close while you drifted off to sleep. he didn’t know that today would be the last time he’d wake up with you.

he didn’t think he’d lose you like this. 

he didn’t think he wouldn’t be able to save you from that blow. 

“please, please,”  he begs, both to you and to whatever force that is just barely holding you together. “just stay with me for five more minutes, please. until i can get you somewhere.” 

the rain soaks him to the bone, clothes and hair sticking to his skin. your lips stay motionless, eyes shut.

“wake up, please,”  he bargains. “you can have all the five minutes of extra sleep you want later, i promise. just—”  his vision blurs, and something shines on the ground before it is gone, swallowed by damp earth, lost amidst drops of falling rain. 

desperately, he tears off parts of his traveling cloak to staunch the bleeding. deep inside, he knows it is futile. he knows your wound is too great. he knows what lies ahead. but he cannot help but press the cloths to your wound and pray. 

please, please tell me it’ll be okay. 

please stay with me, beloved. i’ll read you all the books in the world. i’ll sleep in with you everyday, even if we end up whiling away our time. 

please. stay. stay with me. i can’t lose you yet.  

“— just wake up, beloved.” 

by some miracle, your eye flutters. just a bit. just enough to set hope ablaze, just enough for the grip on his heart to loosen a tiny bit. he buries his face in your shoulder, resting his head against your neck, uncaring of the blood that stains his clothes. your blood. on his clothes. his hands. everywhere. 

no. no. this can’t be happening.

he feels you strain beneath him, your unwounded arm gently, weakly brushing his back. he jolts upright, eyes trained on your face. you send a frail smile his way. he clasps your face softly as you nuzzle into his palm.

“alhaitham—” 

his full name. archons, how long has it been since you called him that?  

“— take good care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, chest heaving, your fingertips touching a tear on his cheeks. “i love you. so much.” 

those are the last words he hears fall from your lips. he presses a kiss to your forehead, to your eyelids, and to your cheeks and to your lips, over and over and over until he feels your breath slow, hoping they’ll say what he knows he cannot manage to choke out.

i love you. 

he stays there next to you for who knows how long, holding you until the rain slows and a faint rainbow smiles in the sky.

until he can’t smell camphor anymore.

—

every person has their curiosities. 

they’re just the little traits that set them apart from others, the things that make them tick just a little bit differently, the things that make them, them.

for instance, someone may be obsessed with collecting tiny furniture, while another eats the crusts off their sandwich before actually consuming it. someone may have an affinity for the most niche aspects of linguistics, while another can accurately predict the next raindrop that slides down a window pane.

after all, no two people are exactly alike, are they?

alhaitham knows he’s got his fair share of these curiosities himself. his aversion to soup and all things that resemble it, to name one. and with you, he’d noticed two things. 

number one: the scent of camphor that seems to linger on every inch of your person. 

he’d caught whiff of it almost immediately the first time you met. you were but one of his juniors in the akademiya, filled with bright-eyed curiosity and anxiety to match. you had tripped over a stair and bumped into his table in the library, bringing the mountain of books in your arms crashing down.

and with subsequent coincidental meetings, he learnt that the subtle scent of camphor dancing in the air meant you weren’t far away. 

you were, unfortunately, one of the poor souls who seemed to be cursed with constantly recurring minor illnesses, and almost always walked about with a stuffy nose. and so, you always carried a small disc of camphor in a handkerchief, as well as in your pocket.

you swore up and down, left, right and center that sniffing the vapors helped make breathing easier.

‘it’s my grandmother’s remedy, alhaitham! camphor always works wonders. well, that and eucalyptus oil.”

alhaitham may not know the validity of your claim or the legitimacy of the cure, but he knew to never, ever question a grandmother’s remedy. that, and he’d much rather refrain from starting a back-and-forth about something so small.

and number two: your neverending pleas of different variations of ‘just five more minutes!’ 

“five more minutes, ‘haitham. please.” you’d whine grumpily when he woke you up to start your day. “let me sleep in for five more minutes.” 

“five more minutes, habibi,” you’d ask when he put down the story you’d requested he read out to you before bedtime. “read me the part where she finds the music box?”

“five more minutes, baby,” is what you’d tell him when he asks how much longer you’d take getting ready. “you can’t rush perfection!”

those five more minutes were never five minutes long. 

but he’d always, always indulged you and those pleading eyes of yours. as stoic as he appeared to be, you lived in his heart. of course he could never deny you anything under the sun.

—

alhaitham remembers that silly little song you sang over and over, the one you’d learnt from a kid in the bazaar. he’d taken you to see one of nilou’s performances, and, friendly soul that you were, you’d struck up a conversation with some of the eager audience members before the play. 

“oh, how i wish i was a bird flying free,

i’d see the world, every mountain and every sea!

oh, how i wish i was a cloud in the sky,

wouldn’t you like to wave to me as i pass by?”

you’d hum that rhyme on every idle afternoon.

loss is inevitable. he knows that, with how logical and rational and straightforward he is. he’d lost his parents, but he was far too young to remember. he’d lost his grandmother, but she passed in her sleep of old age, serene and wise.

but you? he didn’t think you’d leave him this soon. a singular wish sits in his soul, making its home in his bones. 

a wish that you’d come back, somehow. 

he wishes you gave him five more minutes, just as he always did.  but he knows that you could’ve given him five more hours, five more days, five more years and five more decades and it would still not be enough time spent with you. 

a blue feathered bird comes to perch on his shoulder, interrupting his musings just as he raises his face to the sky. he sees the heart shaped cloud that floats idly above sumeru city.

 he thinks of the rhyme again, and something in him tells him to wave. and so he does. a scent so familiar lingers, faintly brushing his nose in the wind that picks up.

“alhaitham, it's time to go.”  kaveh calls his name softly.

 alhaitham doesn't move. “five more minutes,”  he says, echoing your favorite phrase. “i smell camphor in the breeze.” 

✦ extra notes: my alhaitham characterization for this fic stems from how i believe that when alhaitham is attached, he's attached. so i focused more on that, and less of all that rationality and whatnot. this one loves deeply, yk?

that camphor thing is a real grandma remedy in our household (my mom would tie some in a hanky and put some under my pillow and still to this day reminds me to do it when i'm sick) which is what originally sparked the idea for this

when i'd initially started this wip, i didn't expect it go this way. usually i write with my brain, but i think i wrote this one with my fingers working faster than i can think hsjhsj so sorry if it's kinda out of place lmao but yk what? i'm happy with it still even though i feel like it doesn't have my usual quality.

thanks for reading.

[prinsomnia]

in her head ✷ wishing everyone a graceful 2023!

[scalierpepper]

Gave my pfp a bit of a glow up!!

Neat to see the one year improvement

[welcometogrouchland]

(ID in alt) I literally said I was gonna post this month's ago and then never had the wherewithal to describe it and so I didn't Lmao (said with pain). But since I'm thinking of opening my commissions I figured I should remind ppl that I. Yknow. Can draw.

Lots of Steph here (I had major art block making all of these and my brain worms for her kept me going) + some sprinkles of stephcass for Cass nation to enjoy!

[zoe-oneesama]

since were on the topic of animes tonight, what do you reccomend to someone (me) who isn't an anime watcher?

Huh, see, that's a hard ask because anime is at it's core just a Type of Media. There's anime for kids, there's anime for horror fans, there's anime for action movie junkies, there's anime for comedy lovers, there's anime for romance suckers, fantasy enjoyers, sci-fi nerds, murder mystery, animal lovers, people who like a bunch of pervy fan service, people who love it when the characters are doomed by the narrative, love it when The Power of Love and Friendship saves the day, love it when The Power of Love and Friendship ain't worth shit.

I can't really tell you what anime is good for you because I don't know you. But if you know what you like in things like books or movies or video games, there's definitely an anime for you to enjoy.

[yumenari]

Guys did you know today is the birthday of the loml (and their snake familiar)

[somedayslater]

i didnt read the last chapters since i discovered it was the end (but i was spoiled by tumblr lol)... i didnt want to believe it... i want to still look forward to new chapters of No Home :(

For the last few years eunyung and haejoon have been my companions. I healed a little while following the story of eunyung, feeling like its ok to be angry and wanting revenge on your family and the society that continues to want to keep you in a "house" where you are mistreated. How the world isnt made for children at all, the absolute unfairness of it all. That you can choose to keep going, and if you do so its ok to keep your distance with what hurts you.

I healed too with haejoon, who came to terms with the fact that he will always be overcome with sadness and grief from time to time, and when that happens he can only let himself feel and wait for it to pass, and try to look forward to the next day.

Honestly this manwha was the best ever. I couldnt read this manhwa as a form of escapism because it was too real. It pulled strings in my heart i didnt know i had, made me question a lot of things about myself, about others, about my relationship with others. It made me have painful discussion with a few people. Following this manhwa, most of the time, was really unpleasant lol. I hated then loved eunyoung, I liked and then disliked haejoon (yeah sorry haejoon, i think you can be really cruel and stupid and i wanted to strangle you a few times in the last arcs (i would NOT be friend with that guy lol) -thats why this character is so amazing). But i felt so much while reading it i wouldnt trade it for anything. It was funny, it was dumb, it was deep, it was enraging and healing, but most of all it was sincere. The most sincere depiction of what being a person in a deeply flawed society is, and how there's happiness even while surviving.

It was so frustrating to see the manhwa go in a direction i didnt want it to go ! I wanted it to become my cozy refuge, where every problems are magically solved, where haejoon and eunyung ends up understanding and loving each other in a cliché way, where theres a new home with my *fave charas* and its a series of feel-good interactions. Instead the problems kept pilling up, most of them didnt have a satisfactory conclusion, eunyung and haejoon kept hurting each other and distancing themselves. Haejoon just cut contact with his father without knowing what were his nefarious motives or without this guy facing any consequences, we dont know if eunyung's parents will keep bothering eunyung unchecked, we dont know if they're going to be happy and rich, or if, realistically, as orphans without generational wealth and deep traumas, they're going to end up in a shitty life situation.

And i couldnt thank wanan enough for this. They didnt take the easy way, the feel-good way, the way that would have given them a probably bigger fandom so a bigger source of money. I'm amazed by how they managed to hold this whole story so perfectly. Not a single misstep. Everything they draw was where it should have been, every action from the characters were understandable (and frustrating lol), the fucking subtlety of the developing relationships, no deus ex machina and no miserabilism. I didnt always agree with wanan's ethic or what i perceived of it (i think stealing or being violent is ok depending on the context, i dont think working hard to earn money is a virtue) but i respect how they choose to present it. I didnt talk about the other characters because honestly they didnt move me as much (except marie), but i love them so much too. I felt sad that eunyung and haejoon didnt become best friend 5ever (or even lovers hehe) but honestly, understandable lol. If i was one of them i WOULDNT become close with the other at all, so its kinda amazing they could still find this level of mutual understanding.

In short, wanan is an amazing story teller.

And an amazing image-composist (have no idea how to say this in english). The artstyle doesnt look like much, but this gave wanan a wide graphic range to convey emotions that wouldnt have been possible with a more sophisticated style i think -how will i forget the red swirlings mixing with eunyung skin ? The expressions, the choice of colors, the choice in showing something in particular without giving a clear explanation on why (often haejoon's surprised or contemplative face, which made me re-read chapters a few times to try to understand what was happening in his big head). It didnt feel like wanan thought their readers were stupid, nor did they play the fake-deep style. It was perfectly balanced.

And so even if i didnt read it, i have no doubt the end will be the same. Im so sad they decided to end this manhwa, but i know prolonging it would have been greedy and that ultimately, the manhwa would have suffer for it. Some authors do that : they have a popular series going on, and for whatever reason they keep writing new chapters without a clear goal and so the story becomes diluted, messy, useless. I love when they do this, because i can say goodbye to a story progressively as my interest in it wans, without feeling sadness or loss. But it makes me not think of the story at all in the future, since everything that was good about it became buried in new shitty chapters. Because wanan didnt do that, i know that i would think of no home for a long while, maybe forever,

,like i really lost companions when no home ended actually. Because it really, really hurts, knowing i wont be seeing new faces of the no home characters anymore. I know it sounds probably stupid ; i feel genuine grief here lol. I want to know what will happen to them, if they are alright, if they found a place in the world... if there is something to look forward after all, and i really dread not having answers every monday anymore. and the fandom is so small i cant comfort myself by re-entering the no home world every week or whatever... does anyone else feel this way ToT ? maybe i should participate myself but well,, i wouldnt know where to begin...

And saying that ! I'm almost never on this blog, i dont really have socmed accounts, i dont participate in fandoms at all. But I spent a looot of time reading and watching people who does -without being connected or interacting with posts or fanfics at all. AND i really want to thank you all for giving me so much material to chew, posts that made me think, fics that made me smile, drawings that inspired me, witnessing interactions that made me laugh. I was and i probably will continue to be a ghost on socmed, but i really want you to know that you had an impact on me and i was looking forward to your new posts (and will continue to!).

the "every no home chapter is a test of my willingness to Not blow my own brains out" and explosion eunhae monday of @skiptoyuri

the regular nohome posters which makes me happy to check tumblr regularly @shimamitsulover @lesbianpegbar @luckyswamps @tomoyoo @cloudbends @t0a2ter @solcarow @dragon-of-timeless-blue

the awesome artists who keep producing bangers nohome art @gohaejoon @maxsolosur @jjd5426 @bnnuycafe @ct-bunny @lentl-soup @fartaycat @jjd5426 @prokkoli @moxymaxing @ginangtan

the nohome posters that i enjoyed running into @pleuvoire @homolobotomized @podoro-vines @fmet @welpuu @revertrate @obstinaterixatrix @kulluto

the artists that made me interested in checking no home @cienfll @craysmo @ant-eaters @idledee @fruiitlins @froqpi-art @201918b @tinfishmeal @ohrsoh @30mingirlfriend

thanks @ditherslam for the awesome fanfics, obviously i read them all and they're some of my favourites. youre an amazing writer and i cant wait for the next chap of "your atoms"!!

thanks @homeless202 for being an insatiable nohome poster for a while (and @grannykombucha !)

im forgetting a lot of others but i really wanted to thank you all for your time, energy, work. i never interacted with your posts or with you but i really want to convey how cool it is that you all contribute to make no home a more well-known manhwa and the fandom alive

thank youuuu (hope the @ are ok tell me if its bothersome ill delete it)

and really, really, thank you wanan ! waaaa i want to cry

[omegalomania]

They just sat back laughing at the wounded city, each breath sucking in ashes and fumes. Oh it bled all right; drier than Moore County. All expatriate flames hurrying to found new nations of blinding dust. But the two of them, they just squinted at that pipe-cleaner skyline, and it burned hotter in their oil slick pupils. One elbowed the other and said “I’ve seen better.” Knowing that they were paid to remember the past - he blew out a hot breath and said “burn it all”.

Save Rock and Roll is the fifth studio album by American rock band Fall Out Boy. It was produced by Butch Walker and released on April 12, 2013, through Island Records.

HAPPY TEN YEARS TO SAVE ROCK AND ROLL, from @twinkskeletons, @heartbreakfeelsogood, @vanweezer, @smashallguitars, @ybcpatrick, @patrickmstump, @clandestine-rabbit, and @omegalomania!

[milfcamilanoceda]

"Haha if toh had been a lesser show written by worse writers it would be Lumity being ambigious and Huntlow being front and centre" You fools!! You are all thinking too kind, if toh had been a lesser show with way worse writers Eda would have ended up as a law abidding COP!!!

[backpackingspace]

Do we think odysseus's thoughts are almost stuck in quick thought from how often Athena popped up into his head? Because I absolutely do

[mistress-light]

Lost Odyssey • (dev. Mistwalker 2008)

[letoscrawls]

Just saw the cutest finnpoe edit on tiktok and now i'm going to violently throw up on the floor