Sem título

Some much needed positivity for anyone who makes art!

I’ve always thought of it like this: it doesn’t matter how differently we draw, we are all the same, we’re all artists, and we’re all learning!

Affirmation for writers, please!!

The Sultan is canonically a skilled Archer and Marksman, revealed in the Aladdin TV series.

Class 3-E is the "Atsushi" to Reaper 2.0's "Akutagawa"

While Koro-sensei was their "Dazai"

I mean, even how some people do compare Koro-sensei's human form looking similar to BSD Dazai, and to an extent how Reaper 2.0 looks a little bit similar to BSD Atsushi (in color palette). There’s a bit of BSD Akutagawa in Class 3-E too in terms of how they are underdogs also trying to prove themselves…

Please please please be cautious! Report accounts and do NOT click any suspicious links!

Neige who could never trust that anyone would help him in his time of need, never knowing the feeling that someone WOULD protect him. Who has simply for all his life expected to be blown around, putting on a smile and managing things on his own. He was a child star with no one to turn to, and a boy having to raise other boys. Like Binx the kitten, who is "so small and cold and scared but there’s smaller ones that are smaller and colder and more scared." (byteofsoup). Who may not have always had reliable and trustworthy adults in his life, but those who may have used him for the money, or the fame, or as the 'product' he was/is as an actor/model.

Who always saved others, and wore a smile while working as hard as he could but a human being only has so much energy and time and smiles to give.

He built himself into a prince because he had to, because if he didn't what would he have?

And he loves it. He loves his work even when it pushes him to the brink of his health because his money can go to those like him, so they need not worry about food on the table or warmth on cold nights. He loves his costars and his roles and the joys of production and fashion, even when shoots take a whole day or night and he's running on too little sleep doing homework in the breakroom as he waits for his call in. He loves his positive attitude because he's able to lift up others, and see good even in a world filled with horrible things. It's easier to bear the winter when you watch the squirrels in the trees and the first blooms perking up from the soil and the sun shimmering over the flakey surface.

But what happens when he falls, and he can't seem to get back up? When exhaustion wracks him so much he collapses in public? When his feelings grow too intense and he lets a single tear shed in class? What happens if Vil or Rook or the Dwarves or his close friends see his humanness, LET ALONE the public? When he is broken down but doesn't even think to call for his mother because he's never been able to so why would he even think that an option? When someone tries to help him to his feet but he's too terrified of being let down or becoming too weak to pick himself up again because he HAS to! No one else saved him. There's no guarantee anyone will, or if they do, that they will stay and save him again.

As much as he’s favored by the public, he knows he lacks in skill and experience in certain areas. He didn’t train his entire life to become an actor, he stumbled into it as a way to escape poverty. He didn’t have the time or energy to spend hours perfecting every angle, every possible angle of himself. He’s not up to date on every single fashion trend the way Vil keeps a pulse on it, and most likely has a larger team that helps him in his endeavors. He doesn’t feel like his efforts are enough to earn the recognition he has (imposter syndrome).

Imagine, winning to a rival more skilled than you in many ways just because you fit a type of mold better, a type of popular mold that’s cute and docile. Where you can never have strong opinions, where you constantly have to infantilize yourself to get ahead, when you can only ever play the good guy. The moment that you say something even mildly rude it’s taken out of its context, blown out of proportion, and spreads like wildfire, and we can’t have that now can we? So you bide any possible snarky comment under the guise of innocence, you chip back more and more and more until you’re left with only the barest of bones of yourself. Only the vague shape of the hue of your genuine emotions remain, but at least the sliver of your genuine being is enough to make them smile.