In honor of Valentine's Day, I thought I'd recommend my top ten favorite romance anime.
A frank depiction of the love/sex life of a woman in her twenties, this anime follows badass, chain-smoking, aspiring punk rocker Nana, and her clumsy, feminine roommate of the same name as they struggle to find a meaningful connection with someone in the big city, and also find themselves. Features the struggle of love vs. career, the consequences of giving your heart (and body) to the wrong person, the difficulties of long-distance relationships, and the joy and pain of living on your own.
Warning: depicts sex, drinking, smoking, domestic violence, and a male prostitute character. Not a show for kids or anyone uncomfortable with these subjects.
2) Peach Girl
Teenage protagonist Momo takes absolutely zero shit from the characters around her, be it her love interests or her female rivals. That’s one of the reasons I love this series. It’s got an insanely complex and dramatic plot with a million twists and turns that would be impossible to explain concisely here, but the basics are this: Momo’s years on the swim team have bleached her hair and tanned her skin, making her think her crush, Toji, will never be attracted to her and the rest of the school think she’s a Barbie-copycat bimbo. Her “friend”, Sae, bullies her constantly, and her one actual friend, Kairi, is a perverted knucklehead who she can’t quite figure out her feelings for. How can she survive the minefield of rumors, miscommunications, and mean girls that is high school?
This anime is unusual in that it’s a love story (not a harem and/or ecchi series) told from the perspective of a teenage boy. Yamato falls in love at first sight with the beautiful Suzuka when he sees her practicing her high jump, and summarily joins the track team in an attempt to impress her. It….doesn’t work, at least not at first, but Yamato vows to keep trying, because she’s the only one for him. Yamato and Suzuka are also hilariously tsundere to each other and manage to say the exact worst thing at least a dozen times. XD But, there’s also a lot of real drama here that will hit you right in the feels.
4) Uta no Prince-sama
This admittedly cheesy reverse-harem anime follows young Nanami’s quest to write songs worthy of the seven handsome musicians she attends performing arts school with, in hopes that one day they can all debut as idols together. Many of her scenes with these boys are incredibly romantic, despite the fact that not one of them actually kisses her in the entirety of the two currently available seasons. -_- This series is full of awesome J-Pop, beautifully animated bishies, and far more heart than you’d expect.
5) Kamigami no Asobi
Revolving around a mortal woman named Yui who is spirited away to an extradimensional island and commanded by Zeus to teach the value of humanity and love to gods from Greek, Norse, Japanese, and Egyptian mythology, this reverse-harem series starts out cute and fluffy and then heads right into Feels-and-Yandere Land with no goddam warning. It also has copious amounts of manservice. ;) I highly recommend it!
6) B Gata H Kei
An extremely frank depiction of high-school sexuality that’s also over-the-top comedy, this anime tells the story of horny teenager Yamada, whose dreams of having casual, anonymous sex with as many boys as she can get her hands on (a total 180 from the usual blushing, innocent shoujo heroine). But, every sexually liberated woman has to start somewhere, and so Yamada chooses naive, awkward gentleman Kosuda (what a role reversal!) to be her first sexual experience. But, seducing him proves much harder than she initially imagined, because he’s the most oblivious boy on the planet! This series bravely features scenes other anime would consider taboo, like shopping for condoms and visiting a love hotel. It’s also one of the funniest comedies I’ve ever watched.
Warning: contains nudity and arguably “ecchi” scenes.
7) Fruits Basket
A shoujo classic suitable for any age group, this anime tells the heartwarming tale of how unfailingly optimistic orphan Tohru heals the emotional wounds of a beautiful but broken clan of cursed shapeshifters.
You’ll bawl your eyes out over the tragic love between emotionally stunted Jintan and the ghost of his childhood friend, Menma, who he was never able to confess his true feelings for (and the unrequited-ish love of his other friend, Anaru, who still lives, but wonders if she can ever compete with Menma’s memory).
9) Ouran High School Host Club
Another classic, this anime tells an unconventional but unforgettable love story about a blue-collar, arguably non-binary teen and the ultrarich, clueless coterie of boys who she forms a host club with. It’s half parodying comedy, half feelsy drama, and all awesome!
10) Princess Jellyfish
Tsukimi is an agoraphobic, extremely socially anxious, awkward, nerdy NEET girl with a bizzarre obsession with jellyfish. Kuranosuke is a rich, extroverted drag queen. You wouldn’t think they’d fall in love, but they do, and it’s one of those stories you just need to see.
I definitely reccomend all ten of these anime to anyone!! Have a wonderful Valentine’s Day, followers!!
Finally done with my coffee table project! It probably would have taken a lot less time but I was pretty picky with placement! All of the issues used were from the Shojo genre and most of them being from Shojo Beat. All of them are from a local library resale shop called Recycled Reads! Total price of project: about $20
Authors note: It was requested to write a few Easter related blurbs and I have no idea how to write them…. So I am sorry about this piece, it is far from the best… but I mean…. I gave it a shot. I am not the best with this children fluff, haha. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys their Easter festivities (If celebrated), and may everyone have a lovely and safe weekend!! Xx
At ten at night and the house is ultimately withdrawn, your little boy is fast asleep and out of trouble, no longer causing mischief and doing everything in his power to stress you out. Your little girl also fast asleep, cuddled up to the purple blanket Harry gave her before he left two weeks ago for many radio interviews and what not.
You overhear the front door open and you smile to yourself, the butterflies rising in your stomach, the all too familiar footsteps echoing against the hard wood floors'
“Hey, you’re still up.” Harry chimes, sliding his jacket off and throwing it over the couch, promptly bending down and kissing your cheek,
“Yeah, the Easter Bunny needs to make his rounds.” You gesture towards the Easter eggs scattered around you and the two baskets that you got the children for their Easter egg hunt with the family. “How was the trip?” You grin as he sits down beside you, sneaking an arm around you.
“So-so. Kinda sick of interviews at the moment,” he sighs, his hand playing with the ribbon that is meant to decorate Olivia’s basket with. “Need some help?” Harry proposes, observing as you’re rather drowsy and would much prefer to be tucked into bed, instead of having to get everything settled for when Olivia and Henry wake up in the morning.
“Just scatter these eggs everywhere, I’m sure Olivia won’t even understand that the Easter Bunny came considering Henry will wake up before her and take all the eggs.” You sigh, knowing that Henry, who is five, is far more excited than his younger sister, who is three, about the Easter bunny.
Olivia doesn’t fully understand and Henry is bound to take advantage of his little sister’s lack of comprehension.
“Henry, he’s a little bugger.” Harry chuckles, “Olivia will have more fun at the egg hunt— which reminds me, Liam said to tell you that he’s got the Easter Bunny coming.” Harry yawns, continuing to play with the ribbon with his free hand.
At first, you hear the patter of little feet scurrying across the floorboards’ and with a sluggish smile you reach over and pull yourself closer to Harry’s body, his soft snores humming as he mumbles a few incoherent words. You close your eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath as you try to wake yourself up, knowing that in less than five minutes your two children will be racing in with excited expressions.
Your fingertips trace circles on Harry’s bare skin, the duvet draping over his lower back, leaving the rest of his torso exposed as he sleeps. He tucks his arm under his pillow, moving slightly within his sleep. “Baby…” you whisper, your fingers continuing to pursue his warm skin.
He lets out a small groan, a tiny indication he’s gradually waking, but he’s not fully there yet. “Harry, baby, the kids are up.” You whisper, kissing his cheek and you hear a huff escape his dry lips before he moves and changes his position in the bed, going back to sleeping.
You chuckle to yourself just as you overhear the door creaking open, “Daddy’s home!” Henry reveals rather noisily and excitedly, his sister sleepily behind him as she holds her purple blanket clasped in her small hand. Henry jumps on the bed and Harry instantly moans, his body feeling the bed dipping.
“‘ey, buddy.” Harry drowsily mumbles, his eyes just now opening as Henry crawls closer to Harry. Harry positions himself on his back, allowing his son to sit on his legs,
“daddy we missed you.” He bounces cheerfully, as you lean over your side of the bed to pick up Olivia who has been peaceful while patiently waiting for you to grab her.
You set her down on the bed and she immediately crawls to her father, not giving you the sloppy kiss she usually does when she sees you first thing in the morning. “I missed you, too.” Harry presses a kiss to Henry’s forehead, “aw, darlin’ and you too, come love on daddy.” He opens his arm, allowing Olivia to crawl herself beside Harry, nestling into him. “Are we ready for the Easter hunt today?” Harry challenges, watching as Henry widely smiles and nods his head.
“Niall, Harry, stop yeh cheating! It’s for the children only.” Liam scolds the two as they help their little girls with collecting the scattered eggs. Niall scoffs and places another egg into his four-year-olds basket, peering over at Liam with a grin.
“Mate, she’s three. Just helping her get some eggs.” Harry chuckles, as the other children scramble around frantically, shoving each other playfully to find the perfect eggs and to find the greatest one at that.
Somewhere around the area, there’s the ultimate egg that every little kid wants to get their hands’ on. Every year the parents’ make playful banter over which little one will find the egg, typically the boys’ like to place bets on which one of the sons’ will end up with it.
“Ye’ and Sofie’s Daddy wants some chocolate.” Niall jokes, holding his daughter’s peach coloured basket in his hand, encouraging her to seize the small trail of eggs at her feet.
Niall and Harry currently being the ones with the youngest, both girls’ being just over the age of three, born only a month apart. To say the least what their little girls’ want, they definitely get, even friends’ and family dote on the two girls’ like they’re royalty.
Of course, Niall and Harry love it.
“Careful sweetie.” Harry benevolently clutches Olivia as she stumbles over her own feet, “don’t get your pretty dress dirty, mummy will get upset with me.” He continues, guiding Olivia away from the uneven grass.
She swings her basket from side to side, gradually finding a few small eggs that the older children have neglected.
“Oi, Harry. Wanna find that glorious egg? Heard it was caramel this year.” Niall picks up Sofie as she rubs her eyes, giving up on collecting Easter eggs, much preferring to take a nap on her Daddy’s shoulder.
“You know that is frowned upon.” Harry glances over towards Niall, attempting to stop Olivia from dropping her eggs from her basket.
“And?” Niall raises a brow, “mate, let’s have some fun. The girls’ would appreciate it more than the boys and ya know it.” Niall presses with a grin. Harry sighs and nods, knowing that the boys’ have already managed to take all the decent eggs, leaving the girls’ with the mini ones.
Harry picks up Olivia, and she too nestles into Harry’s neck, just like Sofie is nestled into Niall’s.
“Daddy, I’m sleepy.” Olivia mumbles, her little hand still holding her basket filled with a few small eggs.
“I know sweetie, here sleep on daddy.” Harry presses a kiss to her rosy red cheek before tenderly taking the basket from her hand. “What are we even looking for?” Harry glances towards Niall as they both wander along the verdant area, watching as the other little ones spread around everywhere, searching high and low for the ultimate prize.
Niall shrugs, “your wife said it was a bunny.“
"Y/N knows where it is, I figured,” Harry mumbles childishly, beginning to wonder just where exactly you slipped off too once the hunt began. Harry only assumed you went off with the other wives to grab a glass of wine or to gossip with his sister as she’s perched on the decking, observing everyone from the wooden chairs.
Harry and Niall scope the area with their sleeping girls’ nestled into them, eventually giving up and leaving the egg hunt for the children.
You place your wine glass down on the table, Harry’s Mum describing a story about her weekend shenanigans from last week. You smile over at Harry as he unobtrusively wanders over, showing off Olivia as she’s cuddled into him.
“Aww did you bore her with your terrible egg hunting skills?” Gemma jokes, only causing Harry to roll his eyes at his sister’s playful banter. “I told you to let me help her get eggs.” Gemma pouts, opening her arms, desiring to hold her niece. Harry tenderly places Olivia in her arms, kissing Olivia’s cheek before stealing your glass of wine.
“What we talkin’ about?” He smiles at his mother, taking a sip of your wine as Niall sits down, cradling Sofie.
“We were discussing your mother’s story until you interrupted.” You smile while he takes the seat beside you, continuing to drink your wine.
“Okay, so what is the story?” He curiously asks and you shake your head, his sister chuckling to herself.
There are just some stories he does not need to hear.
“We were just about to talk about you two collaborating.” Gemma gestures between Harry and Niall, bringing up the question that has been circulating for a while.
“Me and him? Nah, don’t like the fella.” Niall shakes his head,
“Feeling is mutual.” Harry agrees playfully, the two of them grinning, still refusing to tell anyone about their plans, even if there are any plans. The seem to relish in keeping people guessing and speculating, especially Harry, he does it constantly. “Can I have my daughter back yet?” Harry looks towards his sister and she shakes her head, her eyes staring down at her niece.
“Nope, I want to hold her forever.” She grins, just as the other parents join the small circle, bringing more wine and stories to share while the children play and hunt Easter eggs.
i have next to no friends bc i’m too shy to talk to anyone lololol
i’m really not as much of a bitch as i seem, i swear
i’m actually really nice?? at least that’s what people tell me
i stg you could message me saying ‘i can’t stop sobbing bc i’m so bad at folding laundry’ and i would try to help you any way i could
just…… if i post/reblog anything from a fandom you’re in……. SEND 👏🏻 ME 👏🏻 A 👏🏻 MESSAGE
literally just say something like ‘hey you posted a naruto meme, and just saying.. i’m a slut for shikatema’ and i’ll love you forever
i swear i won’t be like ‘yo what’s up with this dude’ just bc you message me bc i’ve been in that situation before and it’s just so embarrassing and awkward when someone is weirded out just by your blog name
if you want to see if we have any fandoms in common, check the tags!! and if you want to recommend a fandom to me please message me about that too :)))))
if you’re gonna message me and your main blog is a ddlg/kink/porn blog PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE give me a heads-up that you’re not trying to advertise your kink to me
• Woman’s Dress.
Made in United States
Date: ca. 1876
Medium: Aubergine silk satin with green, peach, brown, and white silk and silk chenille machine embroidery in satin and basket stitches, peach glass beads, metal beads.
“Excellent. I would like to invite you over for dinner. Would you be comfortable with that?”
“Hmmm, I don’t know. Are you secretly a murderer?”
“No, but I cannot promise I will not be tempted to eat you. *laughs*”
“Neria? Are you there?”
“… yes. Sorry, I, ummm… I thought I heard someone at the door.”
“So, how about it? Dinner at seven, my place?”
“Works for me.”
“I’ll text you the address.”
“Perfect. See you on Friday, Solas.”
“Until Friday, Neria. I cannot wait.”
She smooths out the skirt of her dress nervously. He hadn’t told her what kind of meal it was going to be, so she erred on the side of caution and decided on a classic little black dress. The lack of sleeves shows off her lithe, tanned arms, and between the hem that hits her just above the knee and her high heels, her legs look like they were a million miles long.
Adjusting the bottle of wine in the gift basket one last time, she knocks on his door. He responds promptly, and she forgets the greeting on her lips when she sees him. He is wearing a grey shirt - the same color, she thinks idly, as the flecks in his blue eyes - with the collar loose, paired with crisply ironed black slacks.
He looks long, lean, and lethal.
He is luscious.
“Hello,” he says politely, an appreciative glint in his eye as he looks her over.
“Hey,” she replies, cheeks faintly pink under his gaze. “Here, this is for you,” she hands over the wicker basket, “my peach tree is overloaded. The wine’s an Antivan vintage, I hear it pairs well with everything.”
“Thank you, this was unnecessary,” he answers, swinging the door open wider to let her in.
“Oh, it was nothing,” she smiles.
“Would you like a drink first, or the grand tour?”
“A drink, please.” Something to keep her hands - and lips - occupied while she is in such close proximity to him.
“Of course. I happened to pick up a wonderful pear wine yesterday; would you care to try it?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
The wine glass is elegant, the stem covered in vines and leaves. The vintage itself is sweet and crisp, and she enjoys how smooth it feels as it travels down her throat.
“Come, I’ll show you around,” he holds a hand out to her. She places her hand in his, and he draws her closer, tucking her arm into his elbow. This close, she can smell the cedar of his cologne and the musk that is him and wholly him. It is intoxicating, and she debates the propriety of leaning in close and sniffing him out.
His apartment is breathtakingly stunning; a penthouse condo with wall-to-wall windows offering a stunning view of the Frostbacks, fireplaces with elegant marble mantles, rugs of the softest bear hide she’s ever felt. The walls are covered in paintings, each one meticulously done and intricate in its details, and she is surprised to hear that they are his own work. The furniture is all clean, modern edges; simple, but she knows quality when she sees it.
He saves the bedroom for last, and she’s not quite sure how to breathe.
The bed is large, long enough to accommodate his height, and is meant to be the centerpiece of the room, but that isn’t what catches her eye. It is the nook tucked away by the window, with bookshelves adorning the walls, and a window seat at the base. It is something so beautifully indulgent, and it makes her want to curl up among the cushions and read. She tells him as such, and he chuckles. “Perhaps one day, hmmm?” he says, a twinkle in his eye.
“I’ll hold you to that,” she murmurs, taking a sip from her glass.
Dinner is a simple, but elegant affair. He’s clearly shopped at more than just her stall, the vegetables fresh and full of flavor. The filet mignon is pan seared with herb butter, and practically melts in her mouth. They converse about her work, and his - she is not unsurprised to hear that he is a well-known artist - and between the food, and the wine, and the intoxicating presence of a man who is all charm and wit and masculine essence, she is bedazzled.
“How do you feel about dessert?” he asks, once they are seated on the plush sofa in front of the fireplace, where a cheerful, crackling fire burns.
She laughs. “I believe you mentioned apples?”
“Ahh, yes,” his look is one of mock regret, “Unfortunately, a friend found your apples immensely appealing and claimed them for herself.”
“Oh?” Her heart sinks at herself’. Does he have a woman in his life already?
“Yes,” he says easily. “Mythal is my publicist and manager, and immensely fond of apples. She claimed yours are the best she has ever tasted, by the way.”
She turns pink. It is as though he has read her mind. “T-that’s… umm, tell her I’m flattered she thinks so.”
“I will,” he grins, wide and warm. “To make up for their absence, I hope strawberries will do. Sylaise had some left over from her wine-making, and I promise you these are very good indeed.”
“Well, if you say they’re good,” she laughs, “they must be. You do have excellent taste in fruit, after all.”
He places a bowl of the ripe, red fruit on the table, and another filled with whipped cream on the side. She swallows lightly as she sees the tips of his fingers stained red with their juice.
She wants to suck them clean, one digit at a time.
His eyes are knowing as they meet hers, as he reaches across and picks one up by its delicate stem. His fingers grip the fruit in a firm, yet gentle grip, enough force to keep it from falling back into the bowl, but not so much that he crushes it within his grip. A part of her is disappointed; she wants him to press the fruit between those long, elegant fingers, wants to see the ruby red liquid flow down his hand. She wants to run the tip of her tongue up from his wrist, and drink the juice from his palm.
She wants… she wants him.
“Go ahead, please. Try one.” He’s bitten into the fruit now, lips stained garnet, berry juice dripping from the corners of his mouth. There’s a tiny bit of whipped cream on his upper lip, and his tongue flicks out and cleans it in a fluid motion.
Her mind is in shambles.
Her gut is a long, single, tightly-wound coil of lust.
Hand shaking, she reaches out for the fruit, and bringing it to her lips, bites into it. The sweetness of it spreads immediately across her tongue, and it lingers even when she swallows. She can feel the stickiness of the juice around her mouth, and hopes she doesn’t look too messy.
She gazes up at him, meaning to compliment the fruit, but his pupils are wide now, dark and feral, and there’s something terribly primal about the way his eyes are fixed on her mouth. She bites down on her lower lip, and the soft growl he lets out has a small gush of wetness flood her underwear.
“Solas?” she asks, her voice little better than a mewl.
“You have a little something-” he leans in close to her, and for a second, their breaths mingle, the scent of strawberries ripe in the air. Then his mouth comes crashing down on hers, and he’s devouring her, and she can’t help but let him because he’s so good, and he tastes like berries and heaven, and she wants more…
He pulls back slightly, his lips curled up into a wanton smirk. “Shall we continue this elsewhere?” he asks.
She mirrors his look, her eyes lighting up with mischief. “Lead the way.”
Magu (Chinese: 麻姑) is a legendary Taoist xianassociated with the elixir of life, and is a symbolic protector of females in Chinese mythology. Chinese Magu (麻姑) is called Mago in Korean and Mako in Japanese.
In some parts of China she is the Goddess of spring, health and healing.
In Chinese art Magu is usually shown carrying cannabis or hemp or with a basket of peaches.
So long to peach season. So far summer has been, well, pleasant. I don’t want to jinx it, but 40% humidity is swell. I know there is still plenty of time for summer to exact its payment, leave its blistering southern impression, but here’s to the peaches, heirloom tomatoes, squash and okra and the porch that I have been able to enjoy while eating those. I shot this at Pearson Farm in Crawford County, Georgia.