#the orange poem fits them I think

[friends-to-lovers-tournament]

Friends to Lovers Tournament: Round 2, Side B, Match 3

propaganda under the cut!

Kenhina:

They're the fluffiest most wholesome ship to ever exist. They're also opposites where Kenma is cat-like, introverted, cool, smart, and Hinata is puppy-like, extroverted, energetic, kind of stupid. It's an opposites attract kind of situation, I guess. Additionally, it is canon that Kenma, who hates exercise, thinks the pain is worth it when he sees Hinata because "Shouyou is interesting". They don't let their friendship get in the way of their sports, and actually challenge each other to make each other better because that's what real friends do. Also, Kenma is extremely shy, but Hinata was the one who got him to open up and enjoy volleyball truly.

Furthermore, Kenma and Hinata have the softest colour palette of yellows and oranges which remind you of summer. They are very wholesome and KenHina ship is the second most popular ship in fandom after KageHina.

In the timeskip, Kenma literally sponsors Hinata and funds his volleyball shenanigans. If that isn't sugar daddy of them I don't know what is. And Hinata promises Kenma to always stay interesting and play volleyball forever. They stayed in touch even after high school and they chat regularly (canon) and that says a lot because most people lose touch but not these two because they are the most precious ship ever and deserve to be appreciated.

Renga:

Submission 1:

bc they gay

Submission 2:

i can go into heavy detail,,, AND I WILL!!!

their ship name is literally a form of poetry (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renga) and it's a type of poem written by multiple poets SO REKI AND LANGA ARE THE POETS WHO WRITE THEIR OWN POETRY TOGETHER

they got along almost immediately after they met, and they found their reason for living together with each other via skateboarding!!! and they're best friends because they ""get"" each other like nobody else does!!! LIKE THE BEST KIND OF LOVE IS THE ONE WHERE YOU'RE BEST FRIENDS WITH EACH OTHER!!!

langa literally says ""there's no meaning to skating if i can't do it with you"" to reki AND IF THAT ISN'T THE SWEETEST THING EVER!!! and reki literally studies langa's way of skating to design a skateboard that fits perfectly to his snowboarder style AND HE GETS SO EXCITED TO SHOW LANGA IT!!!

they have their own fist bump that forms an infinity symbol which means that their love lasts forever and it's the loviest of lovey doves ur honor <3

they literally have a blue (langa) x red (reki) aesthetic WHICH IS OPPOSITES ATTRACT!!! they're also the cool guy x ray of sunshine,,, cat energy x dog energy tropes. also the ""rambles for hours"" x ""listens happily"" trope.

THEY WAKE UP AT ASS O' CLOCK IN THE MORNING JUST TO SEE EACH OTHER BEFORE SCHOOL AND SKATE TOGETHER AND THEY SNEAK OUT OF THEIR HOUSES TO STAY OUT LATE INTO THE NIGHT AND SPEND MORE TIME WITH EACH OTHER!!!! WHAT KIND OF TEENAGERS SACRIFICE THEIR SLEEP TIME IF NOT FOR THE ONE THEY LOVE??

anyways yeah. renga. beautiful bois who deserve to be together and were made as canon as could get past the censors."

#friends to lovers tournament #Haikyuu!! #Sk8 the infinity #kenhina #kenma kozume #hinata shouyou #renga #reki kyan #langa hasegawa #tournament polls #polls

[mad-scientist-enthusiast]

"The Haunted Flesh Machine"

@plaguedghosts @iwrotesomeofitdown @notjustanyannie

Here is my slam poem. Thank you for the encouragement!

I'd like to preface this by saying it is a poem of my struggles and fears, and this should not be taken as the most mentally healthy or even correct writing.

CW: discussion of disordered eating, slight suicidal ideation, a little bit of internalized ableism

I’m losing my grip on reality. Each hour of the day slips from beneath my fingertips before I can even close my hand. 

My motor functions are so much slower these days. 

I walk through a persistent haze, going through the motions, but I am never present for them. My body acts on autopilot, but the battery is on low. 

I’m smart—I always have been—I’m an engineer for crying out loud—but I don’t think I can access that anymore. My intelligence is locked behind a firewall in my brain. 

Do you know how insane that is? Being unable to use your own mind? 

All my judgments are tinted because the brightness is turned down. I think my brain is in battery-saver mode. 

The fatigue is the worst because I can feel it all throughout my body. No amount of sleep seems to recharge me. I am perpetually tired and confused and dizzy and unaware. 

I’m sure my eating habits don’t help. I’m just putting water in my gas tank. No amount of Fanta Orange and Lucky Charms is going to make up for the entire sections of the food pyramid I am missing. I try to start my brain up, but water isn’t quite nearly as combustible, and I end up with no output. 

I want to be in control. I want my body to work. I don’t want my vision to get darker with every step I take. 

Another day, another near-emergency. My heart beats too fast, my blood pressure falls too low. Sometimes presyncope lasts for longer than it needs to. 

Sometimes I change colors like a chameleon on its deathbed. 

My code is flagging for errors, but I’m running it anyway. 

I think my computer is getting overheated. My face is hot to the touch. 

If this was the Victorian Era, my symptoms would be romanticized. There’s something poetic about wasting away. 

I fear that I’m getting weaker by the week. 

Another day, another new problem. Which diagnosis does it fit under? I’m too tired to make a spreadsheet, not that I could log it if I did. 

What month is it anyway? How many months have I been here? It seems like an eternity when I’m in pain, but time passes too quickly when I’m not. 

I haven’t taken my meds in a while. I’ve given up on them working. Neglect is also a form of control. 

I’m rotting inside. I’m rotting in my bed. I hardly leave my bed, but when was the last time I slept? 

Surely this will have no repercussions. 

I’m smart for a day, so my expectations are high, and as a result, my workload is too. I’m a workaholic on the days I’m present at all. 

That’s who they see when they look at me. They don’t see that I’m sick. They don’t connect the dots on the days I wear a little less makeup than usual. 

They don’t even bother to look. 

I’m fighting for control over my mind and my body, and they are none the wiser. 

If I were underweight, maybe they’d care a little. Maybe they’d treat me with a little more care. It’s easier to tell when something is wrong when you’re underweight. 

I could collapse in the middle of a busy street and no one would even give it a second glance. They might even walk over me, thinking I was part of the sidewalk. 

On the off chance they did see, what a shame it would be, for the one time I'm perceived, I lack bodily autonomy. 

Is it worth being noticed when you're unconscious? Is it worth it if the one time I am seen is when I have no control over whether my mouth is hanging open or my shirt is riding up? I've spent so long meticulously curating the way I look to others, just to be totally helpless when it matters. 

I can change my wallpaper but that doesn't make my phone work any better. And people don't see the wallpaper first, they see the cracks in the screen. 

Sometimes I am conscious but not responsive. I lie like a corpse, observing, but not interacting as they crowd around me. Observing as they look at me. 

They could not provide the help I need. 

They only see me when I'm outside my body—a freakshow display of my vulnerability. 

Maybe if I hit my head next time, I'll reboot. I could use a factory reset. 

I often think of what it would be like to have a better brain. I think mine is haunted. 

Do you have to be dead to be a spirit? 

My head is possessed by a ghost that lurks in my nerves tissue and flesh. I hear it wail whenever I move, mourning a loss I cannot understand. 

A restless spirit leads to a restless night, and each night I can't sleep I blame the ghost. 

I wish sleep could fix me. I'm so tired all the time. 

The ghost must be what powers my perpetual motion machine. Inertia isn’t enough. I keep going and going until eventually I explode. 

I don’t think I’ll make it to my 40’s. 

My body will break itself down until it can digest me, and I’ll eat myself like an ouroboros. 

I don’t want to die, I just want to rest. 

If I sleep for a good year, maybe I’ll feel human again. I would like to feel human again. 

I dream that one day I will collapse, and people will rush me to the hospital. There, the doctors will find out exactly what is wrong with me, and that it can be treated by taking a pill. And then, I get better. 

My face will look a little softer, my eyes a little less heavy. I’ll walk everywhere I go, and I’ll stand up in the mornings. 

Maybe food will be less of a battle when I’m healthy. 

Maybe I’ll burn in the atmosphere before I crash down to earth. 

Right now, my collision course is set toward hospitals, tubes, and wires. I’ll only have to sign away my autonomy when I check-in. 

Is there early prevention for a trojan virus? 

Did I ever have a chance? Fated to keep running on empty until there’s nothing left to run. 

I have no salvation, I am just a machine. 

There is no happy ending for me.

#cripple punk #chronic illness #ARFID #disability #slam poetry #spoonie #invisible disability #my writing

[deldeldel90]

hey what do you think of cpc characters as flowers,, maybe plaid family specifically. the sunflower post had me thinking

!!!!!!!!! CPC as flowers!!!!!!! YES. yes yes yes. oh my gosh. CPC as flowers >>>

gonna do the plaid family rn :D

FIRST;;; Lance!! the ultimate middle child, my boy

I feel like Chicory would really represent him well!

it's a wildflower (which I think fits him) and it belongs to the Sunflower family. it's name, according to a Trusty Google Search, means, "The German word for chicory means “The Blue Lookout at the Wayside.”

It's a cool season veggie and prefers a sunny location (Lance being a Sunshine boy my beloved). the nicknames for Chicory are, "Chicory is also called blue daisy, blue sailor, wild bachelor's button, blue or Italian dandelion, or even coffeeweed" (all of which I think kinda fit Lance)

"Chicory has also been used to symbolize the force of perseverance in martyrdom, as seen on the St Augustine's altar from 1487" - some study from 2009

NEXT:: Isolde!! :D

carnations!! specifically red carnations!! these symbolize deep love and affection, and the ruffles at the end of the petals really remind me of her.

There's also this little bit of info, "The color was thought to resemble human flesh and carnation flower meaning took on the idea of the incarnation, God being made flesh." WHICH. I think is pretty baller NGL.

Next: Blaine!!

I picked this because 1. It does resemble a carnation, which I felt was a nice detail :D (esp since he resembles his mother the most!!) and 2. red roses are known for a lot of things, like love and passion and stuff, AND red roses are often associated with throwing them at the end of plays and movies, which I find fits him!!!

"The red rose whispers of passion, And the white rose breathes of love; O, the red rose is a falcon, And the white rose is a dove." - some poem that makes me go a little Cray. and there's also this: "It's the rose of romance and deep feelings, but can also relay desire, beauty, victory, harmony, joy, luck, pride, martyrdom, [according to McCord Jones.]"

They thrive off direct sunlight and take a while to grow :D pretty high maintenance flowers yk :D PLUS!!!! they're super pretty and soft-looking, but they have thorns!!

FREDERICK....

A Green Jewel Coneflower :D okay I was mildly tempted to just put a sunflower BUTTT you know. So I picked this!!!

a Green Jewel Coneflower can pretty much grow anywhere (and it grows pretty tall too!!), and they actually like a little bit of shade!

Sources say this: "Today, the Orange Coneflower is a symbol of enthusiasm and vitality. Its bold hue radiates excitement, making it a perfect emblem for those eager to make a statement. It's not just a pretty face; it's a nod to resilience, attracting pollinators and feeding birds, while standing strong against deer and drought." Which I think really suits him!!

and,

Leland..... bro would be like poison or something. Actually, maybe he'd be like a Petunia- "A flower that is not very common, Petunias display feelings of deep resentment and anger." It's not a poisonous flower but I feel like the negative meaning of it fits him :D

#cursed princess club #cpc blaine #cpc isolde #cpc lance #cpc Frederick #flowers!! #brief mention of leland

[patrickztump]

RE: SRAR - I 100% agree with you, that it is a very red album to me too!

The Pheonix. Light 'Em Up. Death Valley. Young Volcanoes. So many of the song titles directly use imagery of fire, or miserable, all-consuming heat. I don't think it's a coincidence that the first two songs I mentioned are the two we heard first, and they both invoke the idea of burning everything down, in order to build something new. Even the poem you hear at the beginning of the "Miss Missing You" video ends with something like the words "Burn 'em all", iirc. And it's perfectly fitting, for where the band were then; They've passed through fire, and they're now reforged from the flames with new purpose.

And there's also, of course, plenty of red imagery throughout the Youngblood Chronicles, too. The aforementioned fire. The snakes with their red bands that appear a few times. The red pickup truck. The apples. And of course the blood. So much blood!

"Don't trust a band that wouldn't bleed for you" after all, right?

yes to all of this 😩 that's the thing i love about save rock and roll, it's the way songs are intertwined, often tightly, and there's a very consistent theme throughout every facet of it's creation. those themes are blatant with other records as well, but this one is very in your face about it – to me at least.

even songs that don't mention fire or heat in their titles still touch on it in their lyrics. "your hot whiskey eyes have fanned the flames / maybe i'll burn a little brighter tonight / let the fire breathe me back to life," "if heaven's grief brings hell's rain," and of course "rat a tat" is absolutely littered with fire references. i suppose you could even count the smoking of cigarettes in "where did the party go" as an indirect fire reference, as a flame is needed to light them and they glow orange from their heat. eight of eleven tracks involving flames of some sort is certainly painting the album as red.

and yes, the quote at the beginning of "miss missing you" – that was later added to copies of the record – drills the point home that the album has a specific theme. quoting it because it's so post-apocalyptic to me and i love the image it conveys:

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 fumes hurrying to find 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."

it's just so good?? and it makes so much sense being paired with "miss missing you" but also as an addition to the album. i don't know.

and touching back to the intertwining of songs, the redundancy of lyrics is so fun. some may argue it a lazy tactic, but imo it works so well that it's not. not even close. i've said it once and i'll say it again, "alone together" and "young volcanoes" are sisters to me, twins even. "this is the road to ruin," "when rome's in ruins" / "and we're starting at the end," "we're the beginning of the end" / "do you wanna feel beautiful," "do you wanna feel a little beautiful, baby." and the "and i said, i'll check in tomorrow if i don't wake up dead" between "alone together" and "rat a tat"? i love it so, so very much.

and of course the call backs in "save rock and roll" to "chicago is so two years ago" and "sugar, we're going down" is very fun and a [leonardo decaprio whistling and pointing at the tv] moment.

anyways, back to your original ask on color before i got completely side tracked (but felt i had to discuss). i am so glad you brought up the various calls to red in the youngblood chronicles as i have a project i've been working on for save rock and roll's 11th anniversary and it heavily revolves around red. and i can't elaborate because even i have no idea where i'm taking this lmao. i'm just going where the wind (curious thoughts) takes me.

so yeah. sorry for going off. i was on topic mostly until i became distracted by lyrics and the little cd booklet.

tl;dr: you are 100% right when you said "so many of the song titles directly use imagery of fire, or miserable, all-consuming heat" as the album is a scorcher in so many ways, and certainly is red through and through.

#when i first read your ask i was like. oh they put so much thought into this. they are so smart and articulate. i hope i can be too. #i was not. i was bubble brained but i accomplished my goal of that original post: rambled on about save rock and roll #(boy did i ramble) #ask #anonymous #music mutters

[alwaysrisesthemoon]

not a ask but i adore how you wrote swk and mcq. the affectionate gestures like hand swinging?? that's so cutee!! and what makes it better is that they're intended to be platonic as well because you don't see a lot of content of them being affectionate together that's not romantic

them!!!! yes!!! i love writing their interactions!!!!

and it's like, i'm honestly scared sometimes that people will automatically see it as romantic and not platonic/queerplatonic; i remember i was worried with the mandarin/oranges chapter because people could just assume "I love you" is fully you know, head over heels kiss-kiss-fall-in-love romance and it's not??? for me it's more than just that, it's like "i love you, i can't picture living in a world without you, my best friend, my other half, how lonely i'd be without you, i thank the world each morning i get to see you/wake up beside you." and some people might read that and think "romantic!!!" and i guess that's fine? interpret it like that if you want, but hm... not sure if i'm explaining it right- i feel that it's more than just that? to fit them into romantic love (especially the more popular sexual love and all) feels like it's shoving them into a pretty little box and just, squishing down their characters?

but you get it!! it's like, i dunno for me, saying stuff like "i love you" isn't inherently romantic? i hate that movies have made it romantic. that society has made it romantic. so i'll be slowly taking all the i love you's and hand holding/intertwined fingers and plopping them into dreamin' of spring now... they're mine now.

anyway, i'm writing a drabble where wukong's writing macaque a lil apology poem (this is in regards to that dream/memory where macaque's mad at him and the moon vanished, etc.) and hmm, here's a bit of it:

i'm sorry, i say, but what are words without action? i want to reach across this space and hold your hand, intertwine our fingers and say—  see look, an eclipse!  when really i'm thinking, i love you i love you please look at how beautiful you look, not as reflected light but crowned.  but i've never been good with words,  instead i hold your hand fingers intertwined an eclipse  they call it a solar eclipse, the sun eclipsed. hidden by the moon, as if it were something terrifying, but all i think is of our hands intertwined arms wrapped around you face hidden in your neck and can only think, i'd stay like this forever if i could but you move away eventually that's how it goes the world needs light, you say but it had it! i say, what is brighter than you before me, crown on your head our fingers intertwined what could possibly be brighter?

so i know! i know! a lot of people will read that and think it's romantic but!!! them!!!! but uhm yes, i'm really happy you like them and i really hope you keep enjoying their silly little interactions!! c:

#rambling #sms series #dosn #i maybe rambled a lot but!!! i'm glad you like them!!! i love their interactions the most honestly!!! #question tag

[raiha-storm65557]

Snippet: The kings jester

I laid there, holding the book over my head using both arms. My note taking was as useful as ever, from jokes my king and his family liked to their habits and behaviour. I flipped through the pages, some having poems, some jokes, some drawings. The jester’s handbook they called it. It wasn't all that wrong, it received that nickname because I always had it with me, but it's more of a notebook, really. I stopped at one page, ah… the dogs! Once, I tested a theory on soothing this family. When one would get upset, I'd simply asked, would you like a dog? Truth be told I still do that with his majesty. I’ve given him dozens of my dogs by now. They are fiery creatures of my own design; he takes them to battle or executions. Sooner or later, one will have fallen and I'll replace it soon enough. But my kings second daughter didn't like them at all. The first time I asked her, she hadn't even seen them yet, but she looked horrified and insulted, I had to save myself by saying she was right, elegant cats fit her more than some bloodhounds. The king sat himself next to me, his hand rested next to my head, he must be in a good mood to not scold me for laying so carelessly. Yet again I am a jester, it is expected of me to be a fool. We joked and chatted. "A dog, my king?" I teased, offering one like a mere drink. "HA! I should just lock you up and take all of your dogs for myself right now!" he responded, smiling brightly, joy in his eyes. It only took a second for me to think and close my book, smiling. "You'll have to catch me first." I smirked and bolted out of the room, hearing him laugh. Soon enough he got up to go along with my silly game of tag.

---x---

I don't remember what had set me off but it wasn't him. This game of tag was no longer a game and it was not because of anything he or I had done. I ran, feeling how I trembled and shook. Down to the cells I went. They were a perfect hiding place.

Thick grey stone walls, metal doors with only a small slid as a way to look into the cells and even those could be closed. Total isolation. No one would want to go here. I knew how to open them from the inside, they had one flaw and no one but me knew of. Every door had at least one flaw. I noticed a figure following me and I bolted into the first free cell, hearing the door lock behind me. I squeezed my mouth shut using both of my hands, my whole from pressed together to be as small as I could be, huddled together against the door in hopes that if someone were to look in, I'd be in the dead spot of their vision. I felt my own breath against my fingers, quick and unsteady, was I hyperventilating? The sound of the slid opening filled my ears. I almost didn't dear glance up but when I did, I was meet with the kings’ eyes staring down at me. Those yellow-orange eyes that I'd learned to respect... He looked calm, he wasn't saying anything, did he know I was hiding? He already knew better than anyone that I could free myself from these, no any cells. He looked to his left and a spark of rage fill him. He looked down at me again in a way that said "don't worry about it" before closing the slid and leaving me by myself. I didn't dare move...

Tag list: @shesadollette I posted it, you happy now? Also @kaiflameheart since you like king stuff

#writing snippet #jester oc #king oc #not a prompt #writing #original work #king stuff #fyp #I know how to tag posts yes #random thoughts #I've had this in my head since I woke up #royal x servant #fantasy

[potatobugz]

princess for the character into thingy ^_^

yaaay!!! i lav her

An Important Part Of Their Identity: hrm.. princess is very attached to her title, at first she struggles to define herself outside of the family she was born into. methinks... his whole arc revolves around her seeking purpose once she realizes that family and kingdom os gone, and learning to accept herself the way he is. her actual name is Carrie btw!! he is extremely fun to write

Color That Compliments Them: Her main colors are like either yellows oranges & browns or like pale white and grey, but i think blue fits him quite nicely :]

Image That Suits Them: ahhh these ones

[source]

Random Fact/Backstory: hm lets see... she writes poems! she's an aspiring author! she knows how to play the piano, but everytime she messes up on a song she freezes and doesnt know what to do after! he knows how to make cheese! he travels through the air ducts of her big abandoned castle like some horrifying cryptid! the scar on her face is from herself! she also cannot swim

Song That Reminds Me Of Them: "Girl Anachronism" by The Dresden Dolls. also "Take Me To Clown Church" by James Roach for some reason(?)

How They Were Created: this is always such a fun question bc ive been ruminating this oc story in my mind for years, to give context real quick: chip used to be a hybrid between a turtle and a cat, and princess, mark, and (an oc i dont talk abt much) stormy all used to be that same species. (why? i Do Not Know.) Those three were made because i was inspired by a 3-part Rap Song by NF and those characters corresponded to the lyrics in thay song. IT SHOULD B NOTED ALSO THAT LIKE I WAS PROBABLY 12-11 OR SO WHEN I MADE THEM and eventually they all evolved into my beloved creatures with me today :3 the origins of these characters is so unhinged i love it

Extra: shes just some guy

#my ocs #i drew a little thing to go with it and i got carried away bc i really like drawing princess #thank you for the ask!!!!:D #friend chip #hehehehee!!!!! i am filled with joy

[antonia-gergely]

Meditation on a Grapefruit by Craig Arnold

Mindfulness is more and more important to people in this age of stress, future planning and fast-paced change, including me. I greatly value yoga and meditation.

This poem encompasses this, using food.

The exercise of peeling an orange, or in this case a grapefruit, and thinking about the concrete presence of the grapefruit, is a good way to begin to practice mindfulness. Disregarding ideas about it, the sourness before you've even tasted it, the tree from which it was picked, you should consider only the fruit in front of you, and the sense of sight and touch. Craig Arnold does this very poetically above, before moving to taste it.

I think there's a forgotten art within doing things that are 'precisely pointless'. We have streamlined our lives and whittled them down to things we have to do, and things with a greater purpose. We read, not for pleasure, but to learn and seem learned. We exercise, not for pleasure, but to improve ourselves physically and seem fit.

There is a simple joy that dwells in quotidian, seemingly forgettable moments, and we have the privilege to cherish it.

"each year harder to live within"

It's easy to get caught up in the race of life, the longer you've been living.

"each year harder to live without"

It's important to remember those simple, calm constant joys in a world where times are becoming more automated, impersonal and unpredictable.

#art research #poetry

[supagualagetta36]

will he write songs about u?

will he listen about your books,

hold you by our stream?

will he write poems about u?

will he keep every little thing you gave him?

keep it all in a box just so he can save them?

would he walk 2 miles to give you a drink?

would he walk 10 miles just to see you for a blink?

if u told him ur obsessed w him,

r u confident hed say it back?

when u say he owes u a kiss,

is he keeping every tab?

will he be the rockstar bf to ur rockstar gf?

will u make him blush? will he feel his face turn red?

will he go bestie mode? talk abt endless drama?

will he have comfort otp when he cant sleep in his bed?

does he know that you like little spaces?

orange cats? with silly faces?

will he take you to all your favorite places?

when ur shoes untied will he tie ur laces?

would he give u lego sets of flowers?

lie w u, listening to taylor swift for hours?

would hangouts feel as good, as how did ours?

watch the lego movie, when he lived on bauer?

would he know that u don’t like christmas songs?

does he know with u is right-ing every wrong?

would he want to watch any documentary?

would he make an unsent project? note every memory?

would he talk to you about sharks?

abt the galaxies and the stars?

will he listen to every book and every plot?

do it all, all without a second thought?

would he put ur crystals out at night,

manifesting ur love?

would he sleep every night w ur flannel?

would it fit him like a glove?

when u meet, could it be like 222?

when u meet, r u the same girl i knew?

meet in february? the month of love?

would u call it fate, like our 222?

do you think he would tell his friends abt u?

about how sweet and loveable you are?

about how much he cares and loves u?

that when u met he could feel it in his heart?

will he lie w u completely intertwined?

kiss you on ur nose? love all in his eyes?

will he share with you his flaws?

will he trust you for his life?

would he have inside jokes with you?

would he love you like, like, pickle?

would he want to watch velocipastor with you?

feel very fabiscuit, make his heart size triple?

will he be as passionate abt u as i am?

will you be the left hand to his right hand?

will you be the jelly to his peanut butter?

would you love the same again, my lover?

would he like to share a home w u one day?

probably, yes

maybe he’d want a cottage w some cats?

maybe

conversation pit? a barn? plants?

probably not

leave everyone he knows w u to live in maine?

certainly not,

but i’d die for it

[chaoticrokiroki]

you know those poems and quotes about sharing oranges with one another? that use it as a representation of love? that's exactly how i see todojirou. so, as someone that grew up in a place where people don't know how to say "i love you" but will peel your fruit and cut it in halves for you, let me tell you more about them

nothing ever stays the same. it's futile to try and change that, so Shouto doesn't try. he's broken enough nails, teared them out by holding onto things that weren't his to keep. his hands are bloody and dirty and he doesn't think he's strong enough to do it again, anyway.

he learned to eat fruit as it is, biting into it peel and all, never quite taking his eyes off of it in fear that it, too, might be taken from him. quick and efficient and starving. it tastes like dirt and gets stuck in his teeth but he's so glad to have it at all, so thankful to be sated for a while that he can't bring himself to care.

kyoka's the opposite. everything changes but some things are hers, always, and she's never felt the need to dig her nails deep in an effort to keep them. her hands are clean, gently holding all the things that make up who she is - all that her parents have given her and all that she has made for herself.

she never quite learned how to peel fruit, someone else used to do it for her, and her movements are stilted and awkward still. she takes small bites, savouring the sweetness. fruit is the end of the meal, after all, and she's almost full just by looking at it.

they move in together a year and a half after graduation. early sunlight streams into their small kitchen and kyouka's just coming home, tired after a night patrol took a turn for the worst. shouto's sleeping, the house is quiet and still, and there are oranges on the counter. the bowl is cracked and badly painted, splashes of yellow and light blue mixing in some places (shouto made it in a pottery class he took with his mom. it's not quite round and not quite perfect and it fits nicely between all their mismatched dishware), and it's so full that a couple of oranges have fallen out.

she'd like to sleep, would love nothing more than to sink into his arms and rest, but. there's a cracked bowl on the counter and blue sneakers near the door and a slice of strawberry shortcake in the fridge (his favourite, from fuyumi. purposefully left in the red dish. hers.) and the love of her life is asleep in their bedroom and maybe she's so tired she's gone a little hysterical but.

she's so full of love and safety and purple and blues and all those not quite perfect things are just so overwhelming.

she peels three oranges, cuts up strawberries and picks a couple cherries for good measure, and leaves them by his usual seat, brews some tea and pours it in the mug by the sink (the one with calico kittens playing with a roll of blue yarn on it, a gift from uraraka). adds a couple eggs to the pan and almost burns the toast.

and then she feels awfully silly, looking at it. its unbalanced, not a good breakfast for their kind of work. certainly healthier than the cereal he seems to prefer, though. but shouto won't be up soon on his own, the tea and eggs will go cold and-

"for me?"

every anxiety she'd been nursing disappears. strong arms wrap around her waist and shouto leans down to press a kiss to her head, nuzzling her hair gently.

"thank you, baby. you shouldn't have."

"i know," she huffs, "i'm exhausted, i wasn't thinking."

"yeah? how about we share it? and then i can tuck you into bed."

"i dont need to be tucked-" she protests.

"of course not. but last night was scary and i would like to do it."

"alright then."

they walk to bed slowly, leaning on each other - last night was scary. for both of them. too many close calls, too many times where she'd thought she wouldn't make it home. the horror of it had been put in the background after he'd called her, after she'd convinced him to rest instead of coming to help her with the paperwork. it's back in full force now, and she's so grateful that his arms are around her because she's not sure she'd make it without crashing to the ground without them.

shouto stays by her side, pressing soft kisses to her cheeks, all throughout the morning. only gets up to retrieve the breakfast she'd prepared.

kyoka's too comfortable to ask him about going to work and, as he bites through a piece of orange and holds out another towards her, he doesn't really seem to care either.

#bnha #shouto todoroki #mha #kyoka jirou #kyoka jirou/todoroki shouto #todojirou #mha rarepair #theyre my babies and i love them #coming out of my todojirou silence to counteract all the shouto/link that's been happening lately #on my “shouto calls kyoka baby” agenda #favourite rarepair hands down #todojirou fruit as a love language is here finally #as clumsy as ever but its Here

[oomslokop]

PINK

i was going for a drive to orange for hannah's wedding

she was getting married to a nice french dude or is that a garçon with sad eyes

one day i was riding in the action bus with them and for the whole trip he put his sad head on her shoulder

meanwhile claire was digging into my nails absentmindedly trying to clean them

that hurt

we were traveling in chloe's old subaru sedan. chloe was from orange

it was during a pit stop at a petrol station that i realised i didn't bring my good shoes that i was supposed to wear for the wedding

they were cream close-toed faux leather mandals that i didn't know were faux and i got them custom-made at one of the (back then) trendy jamet cobblers at perbanas

i was kinda glad i forgot them i started to think they looked shit. like shithousery fuckety fuck fuck unquiet not even luxury

it was during another pit stop this time at a lookout that i realised i also forgot my beatles-style four-buttoned prada suit

i opened the trunk and it wasn't there

it might've been subconscious but how was it SUBconscious when it was so fucking obvious

that i was sabotaging this trip subconsciously deliberately

we had a late lunch at chloe's parents' house and i borrowed my wedding outfit from the dad

they fit perfectly except now in a white safari shirt i looked like a white lotus dick

the only thing i had that was mine was a levi's dark navy twill pants that at a glance passed for a formal-ish chino because the fabric was kinda shiny

we stayed in errol's, hannah's dad's house on a hill in orange with a view of a single jacaranda tree we could see from our bedroom window

the house was all blonde wood which made it feel both unfinished and welcoming

errol was a late-blooming artist who spent most of his life working at the arnott's factory in orange

hannah was also an artist, went to the art school in canberra, and had had a group show at a tiny gallery in surry hills that i wanted to see but claire, her cousin, my girlfriend then, didn't

i went to see it one afternoon making sure no one else was there

she did pretty things with onion paper, tiny fragile things that resembled colonies or crumpled shredded skin

there was also an incompleteness to her works that was charming and welcoming

i wonder if she ever made it in the art world

after the beautiful outdoor wedding under a grey sky, me shivering in the cold sans jacket, lloyd, claire's dad got us to move out of the wooden house and camped out in the bush not too far away, i think it was still in errol's property

he even set up a portable shower, a massive army green canvas water tank that he hung off a thick eucalyptus tree branch, with a shower head at the bottom

i thought of telling him a mandi would be much easier to set up and much more water-efficient but i restrained myself

that happened later

i don't know to this day why we had to sleep in a cold tent when we could've stayed in the charming blonde wooden house

i don't think i even fucked claire in the tent

lloyd made good eggs for breakfast, so there was that

later on i wrote a poem about a tree, a pond, no ducks, and winter for my first collection of poems and called it orange

have you seen sidewalks of london?

people who stay outside for too long find inside not a welcoming place to be

#treatment

[infinityhype]

Loyalty

I fully blame @miialona for making me think about them and write about them and turn them over in my mind. Sometimes one dude saving another dude from death row so said murderer can help him make a game is valid, actually.

Also there’s something about digging into a new rarepair that makes my little heart happy.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Razor tumbled through the dirt and grass until he finally came to rest at the base of a tree, surrounded by red poppies.

He looked up at his assailant; a short man around his age with black, spiky hair and golden brown eyes.  

“I caught you,” he said with a grin. “Told ya I would.” 

“So you did,” Razor said with a sideways smile. “Didn’t expect you to hit so hard.” 

“It’s what you get for underestimating me,” the man said as he took a seat next to Razor. “Name’s Ging Freecss.” 

Razor righted himself. “Nice to meet you, Ging. Now that you’ve caught me, I’d like to ask a favor.” 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Ging said as he plucked a poppy and twirled the stem in his hand. He tucked an arm behind him and leaned back against the trunk.

“Instead of taking me back to prison…would you kill me? I’d rather die out here knowing I was free, even for a little while. They’ll still pay you full price for me.”

“Nope,” Ging answered immediately. “I’m not taking you back.” 

“You’re not after the bounty?” Razor asked, voice dripping with skepticism.  

“I don’t need money. I need you, Razor.” 

Razor wanted to laugh until his throat hurt. No one had ever needed him. Not his no-good, alcoholic dad, not the mom who’d walked out before Razor could even remember her face. 

No one. 

“You don’t believe me?” His brown eyes looked up at Razor with a steady gaze. No trace of doubt or fear. 

I wish I could think of some poem or fancy word to compare his eyes to, Razor thought. Shoulda paid better attention in class. Maybe read a book or something. 

“Course I don’t,” Razor said as he looked up at the drifting clouds. “People like me exist as a warning. You know, don’t cut class or you’ll end up like that guy. Eighteen and on death row.” 

“See, I don’t believe that. I read your story, and I think–” 

You’re criminal scum, worthy of doing my dirty work, Razor finished in his mind. 

“–with some respect, and like…I dunno, something to do that’s not rotting in a cell, you could be a good person.” 

“I must’ve misheard you,” Razor said. “Did you just tell me I could be a good person?” 

“Yup,” Ging replied. 

Razor did laugh this time; long and hearty until his breath came in fits of wheezing. “I…man. I’ve met a lot of weirdos but you…you take the cake!” 

“So you’ll join me?” Ging asked. 

“Yeah, sure. What the hell, it’s not like I’ve got anything else going on…” 

—

Razor stared into the fire and finished off his beer. He crushed the can flat on a nearby tree stump and tossed it into an ever-growing pile. Pulled another one from the cooler and cracked it open. 

He was nowhere near drunk, but starting to feel a bit tipsy. Thoughts he normally kept to himself lurked beneath the surface. Everyone was in a jovial mood, celebrating the completion of a big part of the game. They were all nice to him, of course, and Razor didn't mind the team, it was just…

"Hey! Why so glum, chum?" Ging laughed a bit at his own joke as he took a seat next to Razor. 

"I'm not," he replied as he took another drink. "Thinking is all." 

Ging sidled up to Razor. "About? A special girl? A special guy?" 

Now's better than never, I suppose. 

"You," Razor said. 

Ging tilted his head and grinned. He looked at the dregs in his red plastic cup and dumped it into the fire. It turned bright blue and settled back into the orange red it had before. 

"Well." Ging said as he stood to his feet and dusted himself off. 

"Well?" Razor raised an eyebrow. 

"You want me, and I want you so…you want to do something about it?" 

"You're–" Razor tried to finish his sentence, but then Ging was on his lap, and Ging's lips tasted of beer and he smelled like smoke and soap. The beer tumbled out of his hand and rolled off into the dirt. 

"You were saying?" 

"Fuck it. I forgot." Razor pulled Ging against him and kissed him again. 

"Get a room!" List shouted, to the cheers and jeers of the rest of the group. 

"You heard 'em—whoa!" 

Razor laughed as he picked Ging up and carried him bridal style. 

"Aw, are you blushing?" Razor teased.

"No! I've just…never had someone pick me up like that. Am I even heavy to you?" 

"Not at all," he replied. "I'll do it anytime you want." 

"I didn't say I liked it," Ging grumbled. 

"But you haven't said you don't like it either…" 

—

"Hey." 

Razor turned to Ging. 

"I hate to ruin the afterglow but…" Ging scrubbed a hand through his hair and leaned back against the headboard. "I can't…I won't…do the thing where I stay with one person forever. I should've explained it before we…you know." 

Razor shrugged. 

"I understand. You mean a lot to me, but I'd never try to tie you down." 

Ging was quiet for a moment. He traced the curve of Razor's bicep with a light touch. "Thanks. You mean a lot to me too."

Razor took a hold of Ging's forearm. He knew he didn't have to be gentle, Ging was the furthest thing from fragile, but…

"No taking it easy on me," Ging said, brown eyes sparkling. 

"Amber," Razor said. 

"Huh?"

"I…how do I explain this without sounding dumb…"

"You just explain it," Ging said plainly. 

"Oh. When we first met, I couldn't think of something to compare your eyes to. But the stuff you showed me on the trees, with the bugs in it? That's the color. Amber." 

Ging snorted and laughed. "If I was anyone else I might take offense. But I choose to accept your compliment for what it is. Sincere and heartfelt. And sappy in more ways than one." 

Something turned in Razor's chest. So this is what it's like for someone to care. For someone to understand. 

He pulled Ging to him with a sigh. "Gonna have to punish you for turning my heartfelt sentiments into another one of your dumb jokes." 

Ging grinned. "Do I get to pick? Can you suffocate me in your pecs? Kiss me until I–augh!" 

They tumbled out of bed in a tangle of sheets and pillows. 

"Oof, I felt that in my tailbone," Ging said. 

Razor chuckled. 

"Stop laughing, I don't have the same amount of cushion as you do!" Ging said as he smacked Razor with a pillow. 

"Cushion? I work very hard to have an ass this nice." 

"I know, I watch you sometimes." The alarm clock had fallen down with them. Ging looked at the time. "Aw hell, we have a meeting in half an hour. Guess we should get ready." 

"Or…" 

"Or?" Ging looked at Razor, head tilted. 

"How much do you actually care about being on time?" 

Ging laughed. "I take it on a case by case basis and in this case…I don't give a shit."  

—

#hxh #ging hxh #razor hxh #sometimes you're on a rarepair dinghy with your friends and gotta write something

[ofkobi]

☆. Kobi Hawayama.

️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️

️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️Where love lies in the hand of a ️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️hermaphrodite named Kobi.

️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️

───────────────────────── ꣑୧

Meet the hut owner!

The name is Kobi Hawayama, they're on their legal age and own ENFP as their personality type. They are a genderfluid who uses any pronouns and does not have a limit to gender expression. Be mindful when it comes to their identity, you don't want to barge in or come of rude because they despise rude people, ableists, and homophobes.

When it comes to sexuality, they label themselves as a queer [with women/sapphic lean] simply because they think her love doesn't know no limit and boxing themselves into a sexuality sounds unfitting. They're keen to learn about diversity and their little community which they take as a pride. If you want to ask things regarding LGBTQ+, offer donation, or maybe do a discussion, please do deliver a mail through their tiny twitter mailbox (DM). They're always down for a serious or heartfelting matters.

More of them is that they're a basic enjoyer of animes, mangas-manhwas-manhuas, donghuas, games (any type), poems, and many more. Their aesthetic is soft tone-coquette, yet their mun slash real life aesthetic is warm tone-fairycore with a hint of grunge.

️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️

(♥︎)

Before you follow!

I rant quite a lot, but I don't do negative subtweets solely because I don't own a private account. I rt a lot (mostly genshin and OC's), I draw and write too, I post rl pics sometimes, and I interact in DMs better!

I draw the line on! [do not interact list]

Homophobics, racists, ableists, those who are under the age of 15 (except old mutuals, you are welcome here), and those who fit the basic DFI list.

Note: I am uncomfortable if you joke/show hatred towards my sexuality, romantic preference, and my interests. I am okay with profanities or frontal jokes, but it would be very helpful to use tone indicators to tone your sentence down or I don't take it too seriously!

️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️

(★)

I am fond of...

Animangas, manhwas/manhuas (GL/BL/Shoujou/Fantasy/Graphic/Psychological horror), filmmaking, design, cats, writing, music, lulling someone, and et cetera.

Artists I listen to...

NIKI, Reality Club, Chevy, Chloe Moriondo, SUMIKA, Mosawo, YOASOBI, Heidi (The Girl With The Hair), Taylor Swift, Rex Orange County, and many more.

️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️ ️️️️

Find me more on ::

Medium ☆ Write.as ☆ Spotify

[saccharinesalinity]

𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐬

❝ Can you hear it? The pitter-patter of the heart? How it taps against the bones of the ribcage at first glance? And how it raps harder when the eyes meet? The moment he recognizes you, you breathe a sigh of relief, the hope that he can match your face with your name is fulfilled. And then your hands touch to greet, clutching wholeheartedly, coupled with a hearty laugh of what it feels like to see each other again. And it felt like home; like everything in the world is right again. Like it could be fate.

To see your eyes smiling along with your lips tells me you aren't faking it. And how it melts my heart, how it pools at the pit of my stomach and sends rose-tinted flushes throughout my body every now and then when I look at you. How I forget to breathe when I hear that thick, dulcet voice of yours that reminds me of fairies dancing under the twilit sky. How soft, but deep, but addictive. I would get drunk off it every night if I could. If you'd let me.

But I know these are feelings that only I feel and I very much doubt that you feel them too. And oh, how magical the world would be if you did, but there's no way it could be true.

So for now, I'll sit in my river of fairy tales and daydreams, being constantly swept away by its current of chiffon melodies and lullabies. ❞

— rush of gold

Passionfruit milk chocolate ganache sandwiched between sunrise-tinted, black-sesame-studded shells.

Been a fan of passionfruit for way too long to have not made this. Shame on me. But seriously, these were just to die for. There's really nothing else to say about them. Swiped them all within a couple of days 🙂. Oh well, other than the fact that I'm super happy with how the colour came out. This is the kinda orange I associate with passionfruit; I would've done one of the shells purple to mimic the exterior of the fruit but I honestly didn't think it would've looked as appealing as this.

p.s. this is by far my most absolute favourite poem I've ever written and it's honestly so fitting that I put it in the same post as one of my most favourite bakes so far :')

#pastry #baking #desserts #sweet food #dessert #food #pastries #macarons #macaron #passion fruit #chocolate #milk chocolate #writing #sweet #sweets #foodphotography

[strawberryimages]

&   love  paints  her  full  of  foolishness ,   full  of  untouched  poems  that  carve  themselves  to  the  inside  of  her  veins  instead  of  someone  else’s  arms .     the  sea  in  her  speaks  like  a  mother ,   tells  her  that  her  hands  always  come  up  empty  yet  full  of  her .     she  is  not  the  ocean ,   but  her  legs  shake  like  she  belongs  there   &   with  water  in  her  lungs ,   with  her  hair  floating  halos  like  the  water  angel  she  could  be .     but  she  isn’t  there ,   &   she’s  with  a  face  that  sees  her  calloused  hands  ;     this  is  the  only  way  her  story  writes  itself .     a  childhood  full  of  storybook  heroes  with  the  shining  face  of  a  father   &   fairytale  mothers  with  the  cradling  arms  of  a  mother  ;     she  could  lie   &   say  her  parents  mean  nothing  to  her ,   yet  this  biting  cold  in  the  eyes of  a  child   &   trembling  lips  on  the  dejected  face  of  a  child .     the  overhead  conversation  that  couldn’t  possibly  be  for  her ,   this  itching  feeling  in  the  back  of  her  throat  that  feels  like  water  trickling  through  the  cracks  of  a  dam .     today’s  history  lessons  says  this  :     the  unwanted  daughter  is  the  grief  that  makes  a woman  forever  sad  ;     the  unwanted  son  sends  his  grief  away   &   trades  for  anger ,   yet  the  unwanted  daughter  becomes  the  distance  between  a  heart   &   a  mouth ,   becomes  the  space  between  sorrow   &   yearning .     the  provisions  of  dead  honey  fall  to  her  always - open  hands  ;     this  is  both  inevitable   &   everywhere   &   never  yours .     never  yours   &   yet  in  your  mouth  always .

the  story  goes  like  this  :     you  are  the  hand  that  touches  me  like  how  you  peel  oranges  for  your  mother .     you  ruin  this  sadness  like  ruptured  skin  ;     i  bloom  under  your  touch  like  a  mouth  to  a  neck .     &   it  is  habit  to  say  what  your  hands  do  will  never  be  enough ,   but  i  shake  under  you  like  a  leaf  to  the  night .     i  reach  for  you  the  way  a  child  reaches  out  in  desperation  to  anyone  who  looks  at  them .     i  am  like  that  ;     i  mean  to  say  you  look  at  me   &   i  am  much  greedier  than  i  ever  thought  i  could  ever  be .     it’s  nothing  i  should  care  for ,   but  when  you  touch  me ,   this  shameful  me  i  know  as  this  girl  full  of  unloves  becomes  this  shameful  me  i  know  as  this  girl  full  of  love  for  you ,   or  love  for  the  you  who  loves  me .     &   to  say  children  live  at  the  center  of everything  means  to  say  that  children  live  in  the  center  of  something  bad ,   &   to  say  i  live  in  the  center  of  you  is  to  say  that  i  think my  sins  could  be  forgiven  if  you  forgave  me  for  everything  you  never  knew .

the  consolation  lives  in  his  mouth  ;     the  despair  fits  itself  into  her  hands   just  as  perfect  as  she fits into  his .     the  consolation  is  that  he  is  here   &   i  am  here   &   that  should  be  enough  ;     &   it’s  enough  for  me  but  never  the  world  who  wants .     the  tragedy  is  that  her  body  has  never  been  strong  enough  to  protect  herself  from  the  god  dripping  over  her  shoulders  like  a  drowned  girl  full  of  sadness   &   possession   &   yearning .     the  tragedy  is that  the  girl  is  not  her  but  it  should  be   &   salvation  is  a  parched  want  ;     the  man  of  her  past  that  is  not  her  past  never  wants  her  in  his  arms ,     but  this  man’s  arms  open   &   never  close .     &   she  wonders  if  her  suffering  is  like  a  punishment ,   if  her  plague  is  this  ache   &   cough   &   heat  that  never  leaves  her  quite  like  how  she  was  before .     she  means  to  say  that  her  heart  is  big  enough  to  hold  both  her   &   her   &   their  sorrow ,   but  her  heart  can  be  big  enough  to  hold  this  light  that  never  dims .     it  should  be big  enough ,   &   she  wants  to  say  that  she  has  never  replaced  anything  in  her  life ,   but  she  would  much  rather  replace  this  dread  with  love ,   &   love  is  there  but  why  can’t  love  ever  be  just  enough  ?     &   she  doesn’t  answer  that  question  because  the  answer  is  another  question  but  to  answer  with  another  question  is  never  the  actual  answer  or  a  worthy  one .          “   i  want  soup ,   &   i  want  you  to  feed  me  the  soup ,   but  i  want  you  to  want  to  feed  me  the  soup .   ”

#☀ . 〡 ☼ . 〝 ic 〞 ﹝ ❀ . exegesis . #☀ . 〡 ☼ . 〝 ic 〞 ﹝ ❀ . writing exercise . #RANDOM DRABBLE FOR ANOTHER BLOG AND I LOVE IT #not for any of the msue son this blog

[decompose1]

Hi! Sorry this is late, but this for the OC ask game! :) These are questions for two UFS characters, Peachy and Rose! They both really seem like intetesting characters :D You don't have really answer them all if some are too spoilery! My questions are 10, 19, 20, 29, 35, 36, 42, and 50! Sorry if that's too many questions 0_0; you can just pick some if that's the case, that's all, bye! :D

FINALLY ABLE TO GET TO THIS YAY!!!! I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR ALL THE QUESTIONS I LOVE TO RAMBLE.

10: Do they have any markings, piercings or scars?

Peachy: Peachy has various light yellow-orange splotches :o) i don't keep these a super consistent shape, i sort of draw them however i want, often in little shapes like hearts/stars/triangles/circles!! BUT that's just my lil stylization thingy, Peachy DOES actually have splotches! They're like the fruit equivalent to a birthmark hehe! I also pretty much always draw her with rosy cheeks.

Rose: Rose doesn't have much in the way of markings, i think their thorns, roots, and claws are their most distinguishing features!! However... i think they would love to have some piercings, they could rock it. If they had a nose, they'd get a bridge piercing, i think. They would also have a piercing on the Gay Ear. Things to consider with gijinkas maybe!!!!

19: Hobbies

Peachy: She doesn't have a ton of free time, and she'd only ever advertise her beauty stuff, but i think she secretly enjoys painting.

Rose: Rose sings!! It isn't professional for them or anything, but they do like to sing a bit on open mic night at the venue they work at! I like to think they would be a good singer. (Considering i'm the one planned to voice them, though, who knows how true i could ever make that,)

20: Clothing/Aesthetic

Peachy: Oh she's so extremely preppy. She's so preppy it hurts. Big fan of pink/sunset colors- varies between neutral tones and super flashy. She does like to go all out whenever possible. Think early 2000s cheerleaders. Very into mini skirts, fun socks, etc. Not afraid to show skin. LOTS of makeup, enjoyer of scrunchies and pom pom ties. I give her a very girly aesthetic with a lot of nostalgia elements. Very mean girls-esque. Sunset or bubblegum palettes!!

Rose: Think, like... a sophisticated, romantic aesthetic. They're a fancy flower! Vintage, pretty things. For clothing/style, they REALLY like to go with a very "mixed" presentation, so they'll often incorporate both typically masculine and feminine things. Vests, lace, corsets, boots, ties... anything is free game if it fits the look! They tend to prefer deeper tones like maroon/forest green/plum/navy/etc, or more muted ones. Not super bright, very proper and luxurious. They have a very romantic and fancy aesthetic. The kind of person who writes love poems. Almost vampiric.

29: What was childhood like?

Peachy: Peachy was a child star, with her mother (Apricot) as her manager and her father (Plum) staying out of it. She was an only child. She is quite spoiled and often comes off bratty and mean these days. She is still currently managed by her mother. I will leave it at that for now, i think :o)

Rose: Rose has a good relationship with their family! It was just them for a good while. Their mom (Multiflora) was a singer, and she taught them a lot. They had sort of always had very... mixed ideas as far as gender, and the role they played, and what they wanted to do and who they liked, and that... you know, likely led to some issues with peers and bullying. When they were a young teen, though, they got a little sister, Wimi (<a type of tea rose!), who they love dearly. They are so so protective.

35: What are they like as a friend?

Peachy: It... really depends. Peachy is pretty inconsistent in her relationships. This is probably because a lot of her friendships are based more on her popularity than sincerity, and she's used to it, so she doesn't take most relationships that seriously. It has kind of screwed with her sense of loyalty. It would take some real work to get her to understand a relationship- even a friendship- is serious/sincere. She assumes most are not, and will treat them accordingly. (It's Possible, she just has walls.)

Rose: Rose is pretty much the opposite of Peachy here. They feel things hard and fast. They are VERY prone to becoming protective of people they care about, and they are a big lover. Though they are also EXTREMELY flirty, and will often flirt with people- including friends- a lot. And then they. have trouble actually going anywhere with that because they are so nervous about their thorns hurting someone. Endless feedback loop. Rose You Are A Disaster (<one of the calmest people on the show actually)

36: What are they like as a partner?

Peachy: Unfortunately, much like her friendships, she tends to not get very attached, as she hasn't had very many serious relationships. Fame will do that! ... If she does start to feel things for someone, though, she is... kind of a wreck. She doesn't know how to handle things like that. She would want to make them happy, and i'm not sure she'd really understand how. For a usually very confident and dominant person, i feel like she would need some help understanding herself in a genuine relationship.

Rose: HUGE sap. Very very romantic. Their love language is everything. They give gifts. They love spending time together. They're just very loving in general. Still extremely fiercely protective, and they might worry a little much, but it's alright. The biggest obstacle is their thorns. They usually won't touch anyone out of fear that they could prick/scratch people, so one would need to find a way around that (either by being someone who can't be cut, or by figuring out ways to touch while avoiding the thorns, etc).

42: What’s the dumbest thing your character’s done?

Peachy: I can't give you the real answer :o). Second worst wasn't actually something she did, but there is a viral video of her being pushed into a pool floating around out there.

Rose: Hm. Probably joining the show! Listen. It was an impulse decision,

50: What are some motifs associated with your character?

Peachy: Sunset/sunrise, peaches/fruit (yes, she is a peach, but yes, there is also a reason this is on here), bad decisions. There are certain musical things i can’t say. I can't disclose more than that at the moment, hopefully that's good enough ;o)

Rose: Thorns, flowers (again, they are a flower, but this was intentional. this is a reason i love working with objects!), knights, melody. This one is also a bit limited as far as what i'm able to say at the moment, sorry!!

AND UH!! I THINK THAT IS IT!! I HOPE THIS SUFFICES HEHEHEHE AGAIN TYSM FOR ALL OF THE QUESTIONS I WAS SO HAPPY TO RAMBLE

#sorry this got quite long! #object shows #object ocs #ultimate fantasy showdown #ufs #my ocs #oc: peachy #oc: rose