This Is The Actual Definition Of Dapper. Nygmobblepot Is Quite Possibly The Best Dressed Ship I Ship--I

This is the actual definition of dapper. Nygmobblepot is quite possibly the best dressed ship I ship--I mean, like, Rumbelle have their moments, but Os and Ed are constantly in swag suits. Early season Ed wasn’t there yet, and that one suit Oswald wore at the start of season 4 was terrifically ugly imo, but other than that, they have flawless villain swaaag. 

Also, is this photoshop, or just hyperrealistic drawing? Either way it’s really well-done, very smooth, and it looks just like them. 

Let us have a happy Nygmobblepot! 

My RB

I love how a discussion of tropes can turn into an actual, full-length, illustrated story and get me emotionally involved. This was beautiful. Admittedly I could predict the gist of the villain’s motivations from a ways out, but that twist about MC-kun caught me by surprise and definitely gave me feels. I’m not even that familiar with anime tropes, but the mechanics of this story world were fascinating, and that was a quite the battle scene! 

This is exactly the sort of random find that I love about this site. 

You know those anime meta posts along the lines of “I was born with pink hair. The doctors told my parents I was a Main Character and ever since my life has not known peace from demons/spirits/sports competitions/harems who find me”

Well I see that, and I raise you this:

An anime boy whose appearance is, by absolutely anyone’s account, completely and utterly average. Mundane hair. Mundane eyes. Not even glasses to set him the tiniest bit apart. A simple, unmemorable, unrecognizable civilian among a backdrop of millions.

And he has a lot of passions, and a lot of ambitions, which he hones every chance he gets. He’s dabbled in sports and archery and cooking and just about anything you could wrap a competition around. And he’s competed in many of these. Every chance he gets. With all of his passion and all of his might.

He’s crushed by the competition every single time.

Until one day–one day something clicks for him. Something that should have seemed obvious from the start and yet never was–as though everyone, including himself, was unwittingly blind to it. It clicks, when he realizes every kid who’s beaten him in competition, every kid who’s gone on to fame and glory and acclaim, has been some candy-haired gel-spiked ridiculously-dressed fucker. 

There’s some trend there that this Main Character boy can’t explain and can’t understand but he decides, this one time, fuck it. He’ll play along too. He’s got a model train competition in four days, and he’s got nothing more to lose. He hits up the department store, buys the pinkest, noxious-est, fruitiest hair dye he can find, the spikiest hair gel available, and the gaudiest clothes on the thrift rack. He enters the model train competition looking like a bubble gum gijinka.

And he wins.

Suddenly, the other candy-haired contestants notice him. They talk to him. They pledge rivalries. Girls notice him. Judges applaud him. Acclaimed model train aficionados offer him internships across the world. He’s hit on something. 

The main cast expands to cover just about every candy-hair cliche in the book: from the mostly-normal-looking demure school girl with the blue hair to the Naruto-est, yelling-est boy with the red-and-green spiked hair. The cool megane senpais, the purple haired tsunderes, suddenly everyone is interested in him. They’re prodigies and upstarts and underdogs and they truly believe that this main character boy is one of them.

So the main character boy maintains his ruse. He touches up his roots at dawn every morning and carefully attends to his gelled spikes and tells absolutely no one about this great, uncanny, unfathomable secret he’s stumbled upon. He wins his competitions left and right. He racks up the acclaim. He’s hailed as a prodigy of all trades, just now bursting onto the scene, and boils to the top of all his candy-haired peers.

He’s rising up, his every dream within his grasp. Until one day he gets a note under his door, taped to an old picture of his Normal Boring self from middle school, that says “You don’t belong”

Is it weird that I feel like this would make a fun pet?

A postage stamp that licks you back.

And I think I’ll close out my pre-finale blast with this sweet one of Os and Ed holding Barbara’s baby. They’re going to be the best babysitters! Hehe :) 

Also I really like this art style. There are so many great Nygmobblepot artists!

Oh hey look it’s that part of 12′s regeneration speech I quoted on one of those phone cases I just did :) 

(13′s episodes are still pay-per-episode on Amazon Prime but I’m very much looking forward to meeting her once they become free!)

Doctor, I let you go.

Anyways, I’ve reblogged something on the eve of opening night for the past two shows I’ve been in, so I guess it’s a tradition now! Unlike with Frog and Toad and Almost, Maine, I didn’t happen upon something for Mamma Mia naturally, so I had to go seek this one out, but it’s very pretty and tranquil. Happy opening night eve! 

Mamma Mia (2008)

Mamma mia! This means literally, my mother, but it is definitely a term that can express everything from exasperation to wonder.